Author's Note: This is my first tag! Now, I know that there are already a million of these on here and it's kind of late, but I couldn't resist. I have been busy, as my great aunt passed away and the viewing was yesterday and the funeral was today, so I've had no real time to write since Thursday. I also haven't read any other tags for this episode, so I hope that I'm not accidently copying what someone else wrote and if I did, I apologize. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome!
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. Fox does. This is, unfortunately, just for fun.
When taken out of context, the words he has spoken have little meaning, used only occasionally in an accusatory fashion when surprised by an unknown person. They may be used when one comes home to find someone standing on their porch, someone they have never seen in their life. But not here in this hospital room, and especially not to her. These words should never have fallen from his lips as he stares blankly up at her.
She stares down at him in shock, her mouth falling open slightly as a wave of emotion washes over her. How could this have happened to him? She knows that he has reacted poorly to the anesthetic, but she didn't think that it would be anywhere near this bad.
"Wh-What did you say?" She stutters, pulling away.
"I asked, 'Who are you?'" He answers, giving her a perplexed look. "That's not that difficult of a question."
It feels like someone has just punched her in the gut, and she can't find the breath to respond. How could he not know her? Her eyes dart around the room as she struggles to catch her breath. It spins slightly and she grabs onto the railing on his bed to keep from losing her balance. "I have-I have to go." She manages to choke out, turning away from him. She walks out of the room quickly, barely pausing to grab her purse and laptop on the way.
"Hey!" She hears him say behind her, but doesn't stop until she has made her way down the stairs and out the front doors. There she makes her way over to a bench, collapsing down onto it. She fumbles through her purse for her phone, and finally pulls it out with shaking fingers.
"Hello?" Her friend's voice, thick with sleep, comes over the line.
"Angela, he-he's awake, but he doesn't know who I am and it's the anesthetic and how could he not know me, I mean, we've been working together for four years. How could he not know me?" She's babbling, something that never happens. She always has it under control, but the words come spilling out before she can stop them.
"Sweetie, Brennan, you have to calm down, I can't understand a word you're saying." Angela replies. "Just, take a breath."
She follows her advice, breathing deeply. She can feel the cool night air pierce deep into her lungs and the panic that has come over her lessen, just the tiniest bit. "He doesn't know who I am." She repeats slowly, her eyes filling with tears as the gravity of the situation hits her. Before, it was pure adrenaline, a panic that rose up inside her which made her run. Now, it is a deep ache growing in her chest, and she knows that she should be thankful for the fact that he's alive, but she can't. He's alive, yes, but if he doesn't know who she is, then it's as if he were dead. He's certainly not the same person. "He doesn't remember me."
"What? Bren, that can't be possible. How could he not know who you are? He loves you." Angela says, her words spoken with shock. "Maybe it's just a temporary thing and he's still under the influence of the anesthetic. In a few minutes, he should know who you are."
Although her words are meant to be reassuring, Brennan is unable to find any comfort in them. "I spoke to him, Angela. I told him that he's been out for four days and that he reacted poorly to the anesthetic and then he said 'Who are you?'. He has no idea who I am. His eyes were blank. There was no sign of any recognition."
"Sweetie, I want you to go back inside and sit with him."
"Ang-"
"Don't 'Ang' me. He needs you. He might not know who you are or that he even needs you, but he does. So, I want you to march your butt back up those stairs and into his room. It's probably a temporary lapse of memory, okay? And if he asks who you are again, just tell him. Maybe something you say will trigger something in his brain and he'll be all right again. But that can't happen unless you do something."
"Fine. If he asks me again, I'll tell him. But, this could be permanent. I don't want to have to start all over again." The panic is like a vise, closing around her chest so that she can no longer breathe again. "I can't start all over again."
"Would you stop thinking like that? You don't know that yet. He'll be fine. I know it. Now, will you go back up there?"
"Yes. Goodbye, Angela." She hangs up and drops the phone into her purse, a sigh escaping from between her slightly parted lips. She tilts her head back to gaze up into the sky, the stars barely visible against the city lights. "Why him?" She whispers into the open air. This is a totally irrational thing to do, but she needs someone to blame. "Why did that have to happen to him?" Although she pauses for a moment before rising and walking back into the hospital, there is no answer.
Getting off the elevator at the correct floor, she slowly makes her way back to his room. She enters to find him asleep again, his chest rising and falling gently. She sets her purse and laptop down next to the chair where she had sat only moments before, and makes her way over to the side of his bed again.
"Please, Booth." She finds herself whispering, her hand clasped around his. "Please, remember me. I…I don't think I can lose you again, especially not like this." She can think of no other words to say, and turns around.
"Bones?" She spins around to find his eyes fluttering open. "Why wouldn't I remember you?"
"You-You're okay. You're okay." A mixture of laughter and tears comes pouring out of her as a wave of relief rushes over her.
"Yeah. I'm okay. It's all right, I'm all right." He reaches out and takes her hand. "Bones, it's going to be okay."
She can feel the tears running down her cheeks even as she smiles down at him. "I know…I'm just…very happy that you're okay."
"You know I would never intentionally leave you, right?" His voice becomes serious and his grip on her hand tightens. "I think it would be very hard for me if I didn't see you every day."
"I know. And…I think it would be hard for me too, if you weren't here anymore." Their words fall away and a soft silence descends over them. Something has changed, something is changing, but neither of them is quite ready to take that first leap. It is always so difficult to jump into the unknown and leave that which you have known for so long behind.
But for now, just this, this holding of hands in a hospital room, is enough. It is enough for them to just be together in this silence, to be comfortable in the knowledge that they have, once again, beaten something else together. Another fight has been won. There will be tomorrows that can be filled with this toeing of a line. And maybe someday, this line will finally be crossed. But for now, this is enough.