Brennan watched as Miss Wick walked out of the bone room before looking back down at the remains. Sweets remains. She felt a lump raise in her throat. Never in a million years did she think one on her friends would end up on her table. Logically she knew it could happen, but it still didn't seem like something that should happen. Ever.
She looked back at the fracture to his arm. The one from the tree house fall and smiled. It was strange to be looking at Sweets' bones, but it was also a strange comfort. Whenever she got a new set of remains and set to look at them, they would tell her a story. His did as well, like any other did, but different because he was a friend. Family.
She strolled around the table, scanning the bones with her eyes. She noticed fractures to his other radius and ulna that were only a little younger then their counterparts on the other arm. They looked to be from some kind fall when he around ten years old. Sweets must have been a clumsy child. She looked to the vertabrae and noticed he would have had a slight misalignement of his lower back, common of those who did desk jobs. SHe recalled him having this problem years ago, he had a realignment from the murder of a teenage girl. She couldn't blame him for not seeing someone about his back after that. She looked to his shoudler next, seeing some growths that indicated he may have been a swimmer at somepoint. She remembers Sweets telling her once when he was living with Booth and her that he swam in college.
Dispite how she might, she couldn't ignore the oldest of the remodeled fractures. Ones that didn't tell of sports and hobby's and childhood accidients. There were many remodeled fractures to his ribs, extremely remodeled, over twenty years old. Likely from when he was four or five. There were many other injuries about that old, fractures on his arms that suggested being yanked around by the arms and well healed and remodeled fractures to his left cheekbone and eyesocket. She picked up the scapula and turned it, there more old fractures, from being whiped so hard it scrapped his bone.
These told her a story to. The story of a little boy who was severally abused. These injuries would have been painful, especially for a boy his age. But this sad chapter wasn't the story that his bones told her as a whole, not at all.
These bones told the story of a boy who overcame a great, horrific tradegy and flourished. Who played soccer, learned the paino, and had slip and falls like any other kid. His bones told a story of sadness, joy, pain, and a tradgic death.
She picked up Sweets' skull and brought it up to her face and for a second she could see him as he was. Smiling and happy. Then it faded to empty eyesockets and a dead skull. She sat the skull down and walked away. She had work to do.
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Daisy sniffled as she wiped at her eyes softly. The funeral was over and she had to come home. Now it was time to stare at pictures and weep. There was no work for her to do, nothing to examine. All she had was an empty apartment. At least it felt empty with out her Lance in it. She strolled over to the paino, tapping a few sad, discordant keys. It filled her with sadness that Lance would never play for their baby boy again, or teach him to play.
She heard a knocking at the door and wipped at the teary eyes again before jogging up to the door.
"Agent Booth..." She said, looking to Booth as she opened the door. "What are you doing here?"
"Sweets' office had to be cleaned out... I did it, you know, for Sweets. I didn't want some jackass stealing his stuff." Booth said, lifting the box in his hands up higher. "These are his personal affects, I figured you would want them..." Booth paused, looking at the young woman's red, puffy eyes. "Hey, are you okay? You can come and stay with Bones and me if you..."
"No, it's fine. I'll be okay." Daisy sniffled, taking the box from Booth. "Thank you, Lance would apreciate it."
"Yeah... And just remember to call if you need anything."
"I will." Daisy gave him the best smile that she could muster up and closed the door with a nod. She sighed deeply, going over and sitting on the couch with the box. The box of Lance's things.
She hesitantly opened the box. On top were objects in evidence bags, the last things he had on him when he was alive. She gently took out the baggies, opening them up. First, she took out wallet, slowly opening it and pulling out the small, blurry ultrasound photo of their baby that Sweets' carried with him. Tears started to appear in her eye all over again. She looked in the second baggie and choked up. It was his father's watch. She slipped it out from the bag and pressed it against her swollen stomach.
"He was going to give you this, baby, when you graduated highschool." She whispered to her belly. "Just like his dad did." She felt her baby kick and she smiled sadly and sat the watch sadly aside.
She looked back in the box. Slowly, she picked out all of his little toys and knick-kacs that he kept in his office. They could make good toys for the baby when he got bigger, she thought absent mindedly. Next came his degrees. His Undergraduate, Masters, and both Docrates. She hugged them close to her chest for a second before sitting them aside. Then she pulled out a few other miscallenious things. None of them significant, but still strangely precious in there own right. Then came the last thing in the box. His first Jeffersonian access pass.
It was faded and old. His face in the picture was smiling proudly, like nothing bad would ever happen. He looked so young, like a highschooler. She laughed, tears streaming down her face as she kissed the photo.
She looked over at the small pile of things that had accumalated. She couldn't keep all this stuff.
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"Daisy?" Booth blinked at the young woman on his stoop.
"Can I come in?" She asked softly, clenching the items in her arms closer to herself.
"Of course!" Booth said, opening the door wider to let her in. She walked in quickly.
"Miss Wick? What are you doing here?" Brennan asked as the distraught woman walked into her living room.
"I- I'm sorry. I'll go soon. I just wanted to give you all some things." Daisy sniffled, gesturing with the things in her hands.
"You don't have to-"
"Bones, just let her... do her thing." Booth said, following behind Daisy.
"I wanted to give you all some of Lance's things. I- I can't keep it all. I just can't." Daisy said before handing Booth two plastic cards. I.D. cards. "These are Lance's first I.D. cards for the FBI and the Jeffersonian. Working with you, Agent Booth, was the thing he was most proud of. The best thing that ever happened to him. I figured it was right for you to have them."
"I... I don't know what to say..." Booth stammered, looking down at the innocent looking pieces of plastic.
"Your welcome." Daisy said before turning to Brennan. "I know... I know you were never a fan of psychology, but you are a friend of achedemia and... Lance was very proud of his college accomplishments, so I figured that you should have these." Daisy said, handing her the four framed degrees.
"Thank you." Brennan nodded, taking the degrees.
"Lance would want you two to have something to remember him by." Daisy nodded, rubbing her eyes to ward off the tears.
"Thank you, Daisy, do you want to sit or...?" Booth asked.
"No, no. I should get home." She said, turning towards to door.
"Good bye, take care of yourself."
"I will."
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Just a few little drabbletes that I thought up after seeing The Lance in the Heart. Sorry. Couldn't help myself.
I would like to hear your thoughts on it, please. Pretty pretty please. Really.
REVIEW, MY DUCKIES! PLEASE!