A/N: So this popped into my head while writing Agent in the X-rays. References some of the events in that story, but you don't really need to have read it first. Reviews and critiques appreciated.

The Friday after Thanksgiving Booth and Parker enjoyed a skate with Wendell at Beltway Ice. Turns at the guy who ran the rink was a big Temperance Brennan fan, so he'd agreed to let Booth bring Parker in exchange for an autographed copy of her latest book, which she was happy to provide. Father and son enjoyed both the ice skating and the time together. Parker loved his family, but was happy to get some time with just his dad too. Hopping in the car Parker asked, "Dad, you 'spose we could grab a burger someplace?"

Booth grinned, "You're hungry AGAIN?" Yesterday had been a tossup as to who could put away more, Parker or Aubrey.

"Yeah." he admitted sheepishly, but then began to protest, "But we just skated our butts off for an hour." He then pointed to the SUV clock which read 23:10, "and dinner was over 4 hours ago!"

His father shook his head teasing, "But your post dinner 'snack' was only two hours ago." He put air quotes around snack, Parker had downed an overstuffed turkey sandwich with all the fixings. Seeing his son attempting a pout he mock sighed, "Five Guys is still open. I think I have a couple of dry shirts in my bag in the back, do you want one?"

Parker nodded, so the two hopped out and went to the back of the vehicle where Booth rummaged through his gym bag and pulled out two clean t-shirts. He tossed one at his son then started to change. The parking lot was deserted and it was just easier to brave the cold for a few seconds rather than try to maneuver while sitting in the car. Parker did the same. Booth had just pulled the dry shirt over his head when his son exclaimed, "Dad, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?"

Alarmed, he quickly pulled the shirt down and started looking around for whatever had freaked his kid out. But Parker was only staring at him, "What?"

"I thought you said THAT wasn't a big deal. " He pointed accusingly at his fathers abdomen.

Booth sighed. He'd been in a good mood and forgotten about his new souvenir. The scar was big, still pretty red, and definitely on the ugly side. Given his blood loss, the delay in medical treatment and his past history with anesthesia the medical team had opted to get him on and off the table as quickly as possible, so in his surgeon's words they hadn't 'prettied it up'. That was an option for later, but Booth couldn't see himself voluntarily going under the knife to fix it since it was just one of many 'warrior marks' as Bones called them. Seeing his son's glare he said quietly, "Come on, change your shirt and we'll talk."

Parker stared in disbelief. He was pissed. First off, no one had bothered to tell him when his dad had gone missing, Bones had opted to wait till Booth was in recovery to call and tell his son that his dad was going to be fine but had been shot. The next day his dad called to let him know he was okay but that his uncle was dead. Now he was finding out that the "scratch" his dad sustained was actually an angry looking incision that extend almost from navel to hip on his dad's right side. He wondered what else they hadn't bothered to tell him. He jerkily pulled his damp shirt off, put the new one on, snatched his sweatshirt and stomped to the passenger side of the SUV and slammed the door.

Booth closed the back of the SUV and walked slowly to the drivers side, praying for patience. In addition to being a teenager and all the mood swings that came with that gig, his son had inherited both his protectiveness and short fuse when it came to people screwing with his family. He had some explaining to do. Once in the car he turned to look at the teen who was staring angrily out the windshield and asked quietly, "Do you want to talk now or when we get there?"

"NOW" Parker practically spat the word. "You lied to me Dad!"

Booth took a deep breath, "Yeah, I did. And I'd do it again. Look when Bones called you, I was truly out of danger. And when I talked to you I didn't see the point in giving you all the details and scaring you. It was over, I was going to be fine."

"I'm not a little kid anymore. I've got armpit hair and everything Dad. " he was almost shouting.

Booth willed himself to remain calm and keep his voice even. "I know. But you are still only 15. I still want to protect you as much as I can from 3000 miles away. "

Parker snapped, "Well I'm here now. And I want to know the truth about what happened to you Dad. And Uncle Jared. EVERYTHING."

So Booth explained, Parker interrupting with questions occasionally. Booth answered as truthfully as he could. Oh, there were still some things that he omitted or glossed over. He didn't think Parker needed to know how if he hadn't found the silver nitrate there was a pretty strong chance that he bled to death or that Pete or Alex killed him. Or that he had been the one to incinerate Jared. Hell, he didn't want to think about those details, he certainly wasn't going burden his kid with them. When he was done they sat in silence for a minute or so, then he looked over at his son. He was still pissed off, Booth could tell.

"Bones should have called me earlier."

Booth snapped a little at that one. "Hey, you can be pissed at me, but she did NOTHING wrong. Think about it. It was the middle of the night for you, what was she supposed to tell you? Hey Parker, we have an unidentified body here at the lab, it might be your dad. Go back to sleep, I'll let you know. "

"She could have called me later," he said stubbornly.

"Right." Booth said sarcastically, "because later she could have told you, Parker, I've got good news and bad news. The good news is that your uncle is dead, the bad news is we don't know where your dad is. Good luck on your chem test!"

The teen opened his mouth to argue again and then realized that put that way, his dad was right. Seeing the crack in the hostility Booth softened his voice, "Look Parker, she had her hands full trying to find me. And it's Bones. It wasn't rational to call. There wasn't anything you could have done to help, so the only thing telling you would have accomplished was to make you worry. She called you as soon as she had the facts. "

Parker seemed a little less angry now, so he asked, "Anything else you need to know?"

"Yeah. Why Dad? I mean, I hardly knew Uncle Jared, so I know you guys weren't tight. Why did you almost get yourself killed trying to bail him out?"

Booth exhaled loudly. "He was my brother. "

"I know THAT." Parker added with a sneer, "But it doesn't seem like he gave a damn about you. The last few years he wasn't speaking to you most of the time, he only saw me a couple of times when you were in Afghanistan, didn't come to your wedding, and I don't remember him helping out when you were thrown in jail."

"Hey, watch the tone." Booth said sharply. Then he took another deep breath, "Our relationship was complicated."

"And I'm not old enough to understand right?" The teen retorted bitterly.

"Tone, buddy. " He sighed, "And you're old enough now. I'll try to explain, but it's not easy for me to talk about, so you have to want to listen."

Parker stared. He really hadn't been expecting that. There was something odd in his dad's voice that made him hesitate. Finally he said, "Yea, I'll listen."

Booth had been hoping against hope that Parker would refuse the offer. Now he was stuck. He hadn't planned on having this conversation tonight, or this visit. He didn't know when he'd planned on having it. Maybe when Parker was in his thirties. The comment from Bones last month popped into his head, bonding through the sharing of secrets. Please God, don't let anthropology fail him now. He didn't want to imagine a world where his son didn't speak to him. Where to start? He tried to remember everything he'd told his son about his father - there wasn't much. What had Pops told him? Rebecca? Jared? Marianne? He realize he had no idea so, start with a level set. "Okay. What do you know about my parents?"

Parker shrugged. "Not much. Your mom got sick and left, your dad couldn't take care of you anymore, I don't know why, so you went to live with Pops and Grandma. Grandma died when you were in high school. Whatever your mom had, she got better, obviously, because I met her at your wedding although something's weird there because Atlantic City isn't that far away and you don't see her that often, and I've never met your step family. And your dad is dead, but I don't really know when that happened." He shook his head in disbelief as it just occurred to him how little he knew about his dad's family. "That really isn't much is it?"

"No. But you got the basics right. " Booth took a deep breath and started at the beginning. "I was four when Jared was born. From day one I was told to watch out for my little brother. My father was still in the army and gone a lot, so I was supposed to help Mom. She was barely 19 when she had me, and it was tough to be an army wife. A couple years later, dad left the service. He had some problems on base - today he probably would have been diagnosed with PTSD, but they didn't recognize it back then, so they just gave him an honorable discharge and sent him on his way. Money was tight. Dad wasn't happy to be out of the army, he liked things neat and orderly, and Mom wasn't the most domestic person and with two little boys there was always a mess somewhere. "

Booth paused, gathering his thoughts. Here's where it got tough to balance Parker's need for more information with his need to protect his kid from reality. "Dad started to drink. A lot. And when was drunk he'd get mean. When things would get ugly it was my job to keep Jared quiet and out of the way." Most times that meant hiding in their room, but some nights the shouting and crying were loud enough they would retreat to the closet. On more than one occasion they would fall asleep in there, only waking when Mom opened the door in the morning sporting blood shot eyes and fresh bruises. He shook the memories away and worked to keep his tone even as he stared at the dashboard. He couldn't look his son in the eye right now, not if he wanted to get this out. "When I was nine, he pushed Mom down the stairs one night. She busted up her hip and spent some time in the hospital. When it was time for her to be discharged she left instead of coming home. After that, until we went to live with Pops, if my dad was drinking, it was up to me to take care of Jared." He fell silent then, waiting to see if that was enough information to satisfy his son, knowing it probably wasn't, but he wasn't going to volunteer any more ugliness. Parker would need to ask what he wanted to know.

Parker asked quietly. "How long till you went to live with Pops?"

"Almost three years."

"But you were just a kid!" Parker was trying to imagine taking care of Christine. He couldn't, not now, let alone when he was nine.

His dad shrugged, "Jared was younger, he couldn't take care of himself."

More silence, then a gasp as he processed the information. "He hurt your mom, did he ever? I mean you and Uncle Jared, did he?" Parker looked at his father with horror, unable to say the words.

As much as Booth desperately wanted to lie, he nodded, "Yeah, he did."

"And she just left you with him?" The question was asked with venom.

Booth hesitated. How to explain when he couldn't explain it himself? "She had no family. The only job she'd ever had was as dance teacher and she'd written a few commercial jingles. Dancing wasn't a possibility any more, and the jingles didn't pay much and weren't very regular. She didn't know how she was going to take care of herself let alone two little kids."

She could have called Pops, a neighbor, Pop's daughter Ruth would have still been alive then, there were other things that could have been done. He opened his mouth to argue and then realized that his dad would have thought of all these things over the years. No sense in rubbing it in, but he suddenly became very glad his grandmother was in New Jersey. His dad may have forgiven her, but he wasn't close yet. "That's just fu...whacked, Dad. "

Booth offered a half smile at his son's near slip, but nodded in agreement. No matter how much he tried to justify her actions, his mother had only enough courage to save herself.

"Why did it take Pops so long?" While it was hard to tell by the dim lights of the parking lot, it seemed like Parker was holding back tears.

"He didn't know, Bud." Seeing Parker's look of disbelief, "He was still in the army. He and Grandma moved around and we did too. About six months after Mom left, Aunt Ruth got sick, so they had that to handle. We didn't live close enough for Pops to just drop by. Visits were planned. If Dad knew that his folks were coming around he'd be on his best behavior." The visits were double edged swords. The couple of days leading up to them Dad was tense but sober, while they were there it was great, after they left all hell had a tendency to break loose. "As soon as he found out, we went to live with him. "

"How'd he find out?"

"When Pops retired from the army, he and Grandma got settled in Philly and then decided to take a road trip. They were going to come visit at the end of their trip but something went wrong - car trouble or something, so they ended up coming three days early. They had thought about calling, but decided to just surprise us. " And it was a tossup as to who was more shocked he thought to himself. Some memories from that night were so vivid -Jared crying in the corner, him screaming for his brother to run, his father yelling at them both to shut up, the look of horror on Pops face, the shocked gasp from Grandma, the relief he felt at seeing his grandparents thinking that at least for this night, the terror was over. Shaking himself back to the present, he continued, "Dad was, um, on a tear when they arrived. Pops stopped him. It gets a little fuzzy after that, but the next morning he was gone, Pops and Grandma took us home." The reason for the fuzziness had to do with a well placed backhand but Parker didn't need to know that.

Parker was quiet, trying to digest everything he'd learned. He didn't know what he'd been expecting when his dad agreed to talk, but it wasn't this. "So. What happened? "

"Um, what do you mean what happened?" Booth was hoping he misunderstood the question. He did not want to talk about that last night with his father. He never had and he wasn't sure he could.

"What happened between you and Uncle Jared? " Booth could almost hear the "duh" added to the question. "You took care of him all that time. Why didn't you get along later?"

Booth rubbed the back of his neck, thankful that he'd dodged that bullet. "A lot of things. I couldn't stop trying to take care of him. He resented having both Pops and I trying to tell him what to do. Then I was overseas, he was overseas, we drifted apart - no email back then and it took letters a long time to catch up, and we could go a couple of years before our leaves overlapped. When we were finally on the same continent, he was drinking and I finally stopped cleaning up after his messes. He got sober, but it didn't last and I couldn't handle watching him go down the same path as my dad, even though he wasn't violent when he drank." Suddenly a wave of grief overtook him. Up until the point when Jared had gone out the window, Booth had clung to the hope that someday they'd be able to work things out. Booth looked at his son and said hoarsely, "But he did give a damn about me at some level - he got booted out of the Navy for saving my life. " He saw Parker's look of interest, "but that's a story for another night." He was already going to have a tough time sleeping tonight, no sense in adding that little trip down memory lane to the mix.

Parker finally really looked at his dad and realized what an ass he'd been. His father had watched his brother die and he'd thrown it in his face that they weren't the best of friends. Gulping, he offered sadly, "I'm sorry Dad, I didn't mean that earlier."

"It's okay." And it was, Booth knew the comment had come from his son being scared. Parker wasn't the type of kid to be intentionally cruel. "You were angry. Anything else? Are we good?"

"Yeah. We're good."

"Still want that burger?"

"No. Not so hungry any more. "

Booth started the car and headed towards home. They drove in silence, punctuated by an occasional sniff from Parker. Booth kept glancing at his son, trying to get a read on how he was doing, but the teen spent most of the drive staring out the passenger window. When they pulled into the garage, they met at the back of the SUV to unload the skates and Booth saw the tears in his son's eyes. Before the boy could protest he pulled him in for a tight hug. That seemed to break the dam and Parker clung as he silently cried into his dad's shoulder. Booth struggled to keep his own emotions in check as he held his son repeatedly whispering, "Shhh, it's okay. I'm fine." After a few minutes Parker calmed. Suddenly embarrassed to be crying like a baby he straightened up. Booth reluctantly let him go.

Trying to lighten the mood, he pointed at his father's shirt, "Sorry I got snot all over you Dad."

Booth laughed, "Not the first time you've done that buddy."

Parker laughed and grabbed his skates and started to head into the house.

"Hey Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Did I hear Bones tell you right, she made an extra pumpkin pie?"

Happy that things seemed to be heading towards normal Booth teased, "I think you heard that Bones made ME an extra pie. Don't recall her saying I had to share."

"Come on Dad!" That was said a little too loudly as Booth opened the door. Bones was standing in the kitchen bouncing Hank and she gave them the 'don't you dare rile up the baby look' which after she saw her husband and son's red eyes quickly turned into a look of concern.

Looking appropriately chagrined Booth kissed his wife, wrapping his arm around her and gently rubbing Hank's back. She whispered, "Is everything ok?" He nodded and whispered back, "will tell you later."

"Dad. Pie. Pleeaaaaaaaaase? " Parker whined quietly.

"All right. Since you said please. " He started to rummage through the refrigerator, mock grumbling the whole time, "can't believe I have to share this."

While he was pulling out plates Parker got settled onto a stool at the counter. Christine stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. Seeing what her father was up to, she started to pout, "I want pie too!"

Brennan glanced at Booth in exasperation. It was way too late for a six year old to be out of bed, let alone eating sweets. Booth just shrugged, gave his wife his best charm smile and cut a small slice for his daughter. Some rules were meant to be broken, especially on a night like this. Bones sighed and conceding defeat pulled up a stool and settled Hank in her arms. He had been on the verge of sleep but was now studying his siblings intently. Parker pulled his little sister into his lap. Booth smiled at that, Brennan caught the action and reaction and reached across the bar to give her husbands hand a quick squeeze. Whatever had happened between father and son tonight, they both needed their family right now.

As he watched his son holding his daughter and his wife holding his baby and the smiles of all four, Booth committed the picture to memory. Damn, he was a lucky man.