A/N: First story. Ever. Please be kind.
Summary: Set around the end of "The Doctor in the Photo." Brennan has finally realized her attraction for Booth. He makes it clear that it is too late, and for the first time in a long time, Brennan breaks. She's not as strong as she would like everyone to believe. She has decided to sever their partnership.
Disclaimer: Bones and it's affiliates do not belong to me.
What was the point of pulling her out of the way of the oncoming vehicle? As far as she could tell, the blissful darkness that inevitably would've been granted at her appointed time of death was infinitely better than the myriad of emotions that was flying from every direction. She had finally bared her soul (metaphorically of course; to assume humans actually have souls is preposterous) and confessed her mistake, and he had rejected her. Rightfully so, her ever-rational mind screamed. He loved Hannah. She loved him. She could provide, emotionally, everything that Brennan could not. She was not broken.
Temperance Brennan was imploding. She was burning. It wouldn't stop.
If she was broken before this Lauren Eames case, there was no doubt in the fact that she was completely pulverized by tonight.
Vulnerability doesn't suit you, Tempe, she admonished mentally. Being on the other end of the receiving line was not pleasant. She could equate the number of stars in the sky to the amount of times she had rejected Booth's affections simply for the reason that she was terrified out of all set boundaries of rationality. She wanted love. She didn't want love. She didn't know love. She lost her chance at knowing. And there's nothing she hated more than not knowing.
She released the intake of air that she wasn't aware she was holding. It was ragged and shaky and revealed how little of a hold she had to sanity. She despised how her body easily betrayed her when all she wanted it to do was resume it's place behind her long-established wall of indifference.
There was a time when these car rides with Booth was more of a home than anything her apartment could ever have provided. It was a cocoon. Here, they've revealed morsels of themselves that could not have been confessed to anyone else. Now, the leather seats that once cushioned and absorbed the day's worries felt foreign and uninviting.
Booth had the heater on at the highest setting as a desperate attempt to calm his partner's shivering form. It seemed that all of nature was against her, seeing as Booth's rain-soaked clothes accentuated his scent, making it all the more potent. He was intoxicating. Clean aftershave and natural musk clung to her hair, her clothes; it had completely overtaken the oxygen inside the suffocating Toyota. It did not aid in what she was about to do, what she was about to say.
It had been fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes since she had made the earth-shattering confession that undeniably shifted their partnership-for the worst. Her tears had dried, the only remnants visible being the stiff tracks left on her cheeks. Her breathing was relatively controlled when Booth pulled up in front of her apartment complex. He made no indication of speaking first, sensing that Bones was currently formulating the discussion in her mind. He gripped the steering wheel like a lifeline, staring into the dark street illuminated only by dim lamplights.
Brennan slowly brought her knees up to her chest in a sudden display of extremely uncharacteristic behavior. Booth turned his head towards his partner at the movement, slight amusement evident in his eyes. He sobered instantly once he caught her searing gaze. Wide azure orbs, usually bright and animated, were inked with obvious pain and apprehension.
"Booth, I can't do this." She cringed at how hoarse her voice had become.
"What, Bones?" Chocolate eyes dulled and became dark coal as it bore into hers. He asked more out of courtesy than of actual confusion. He knew damn well what she was about to say. When you spend seven years in close contact with one person, you start to pick up on their tells rather quickly. He was challenging her, daring her to say it.
Unfortunately for him, Temperance Brennan had the nerves of an entire Spartan army. She spoke, slowly and calculated; emotions carefully controlled.
"This. Us. Our partnership. It has to stop. I need to move on."
Booth wanted so badly to intervene, to interrupt what would be another one of her misguided mistakes due to her hyper-rationality. But he knew he had to allow her to speak. He had to hear her full argument before he could lay out all the possible choices she always seemed to overlook, or as he suspected, ignored.
"I have always merited myself in my proficiency in utmost professionalism. You jeopardize that, Booth. I can't do my job anymore. And you, you…" her soft whisper began to show the first signs of strain, "you've found someone to love for 30, 40, 50 years. And it's absolutely wonderful. Absolutely. I find that I am rather euphoric at your current happiness. But my bothersome feelings are hindering both of our potential. I cannot let that continue. I'm requesting permission from Hacker to provide me with a rotating circuit of various FBI agents."
She had not intended to repeat the words he had said to her on the steps of the Hoover building so long ago. It had slipped fortuitously in the common Freudian fashion. In truth, she had played the Hoover Building scenario, as she had begrudgingly dubbed it, over and over mentally since that day. She had every word he said memorized; his kiss was emblazoned on her lips, invisible to all but herself. She swore on some days that she could still feel the warm pressure that was Booth's hot mouth on hers. Obviously, her intuition was instantly debunked by her cool erudition at the mere mention of whimsical conjecture.
She could see the effect her reiteration had on her burly companion. He had closed his eyes briefly at the restating of his own vehement words, undoubtedly reliving that moment as she had every day since then. When he graced her with his scrutiny again, the discernible molten lava that was his glare told Brennan that he was going to go down kicking and screaming. He unbuckled his seatbelt, and firmly grasped Bones' shoulders in order to pivot her entire body in his direction. He leaned in, close enough to feel her fragrant breath on his upper lip. He wanted her close so that she could see the fuming heat radiating from his every pore.
"Bones, You've got to be fucking kidding me right now." Booth was infamous for his lack of tact. "You were the one that turned me away, when I basically thrust my entire soul at you. You broke me. You killed me. I contained all that pain in a mere few drops of tears, when all I wanted to do was tear apart the universe from the seams. But I stayed. I stayed, because what we do is important. We've got something great goin' on here, Bones. We do good, every day. How can you walk away now? How can you?"
Her tears were making a resurgence, brimming her eyes heavily until Booth was nothing but a resemblance to a watercolor painting.
"I'm not as strong as you, Booth." Her breathing was erratic at this point, hitching endlessly in the strain to prevent her inevitable sobs. "But…but I am impervious. At least, I thought I was. You've crumbled all my defenses as if I constructed them out of cotton. If there's anything I've retained from today, it's to enforce the walls that everyone I've ever loved has tried endlessly to break down, for the banal purpose of retrieving the loot from the fortress and then running off with it. And yes, I just utilized a metaphor, I'm sure you're quite proud."
He laughed weakly, despite himself.
"Shut up, Bones, God, shut up." He rested his head back heavily against his car seat, left arm thrown haphazardly thrown over his eyes in exhaustion.
Bones knew she had won today, solely due to Booth's inherent fatigue. However, tomorrow was another day, and if she knew Booth at all, then he'd be back again, with cocked guns and his charmingly persuasive voice.
"This is going to happen, Booth. It's for the best, I'm sure of it. I'll meet you at the Hoover tomorrow to discuss our partnership termination with Hacker."
Before Booth could have a chance to refute and pull apart her resolve, Bones quickly unbuckled her seatbelt and jumped out of the car, slamming the door in her hurry.
Coincidentally, the rain impeded Brennan from hearing Booth growling her name in frustration as he jumped out his side of the car, quickly catching up to her.
A/N: Trust me when I say, this night isn't finished yet.