End of a Season
It's hard to lose someone you care about. And Dr. Temperance Brennan had. Lost people, yes, but cared about him too. She was no stranger to pain, to heart-crushing moments where faith in people in general seems to wash down the sewer drain with the rain. Her parents taught her the world was a harsh place, both with their words and with their absence. Her brother taught her that people lie, that some people choose to leave. Foster Care taught her the strength of some people's malice, spite, and how neglectful the world at large can seem to those tossed about in it throes. It also, funnily enough, taught her how to breathe when there seemed to be no air, how to fight when she was almost too scared to move, how to control herself, because she could control nothing else.
Despite all that, it was still hard.
Vincent.
He had been nice. A bit long winded, but generally a very capable and knowledgeable young man. She had called him her favorite without even realizing it, mostly because she wanted him to know that she had seen who he was, how brilliant and caring. That she wasn't going to be the kind of person who made people leave anymore. She had pushed her brother away. Had pushed Zack away. Had pushed her partner away. Every romantic relationship ended mostly because she pushed them away as well. She may have even pushed her parents away, though she wasn't foolish enough to blame herself for their leaving. Not anymore.
Oh how she wished she could have granted that last plea. That he could have stayed with them, where he wanted to be. Where he loved to be.
Booth stalled her forward motion. "You're staying at my apartment tonight."
She thought about arguing for a moment, but one look at his face told her she wasn't going to get anywhere with that. She agreed.
After Booth settled her on his couch, he went into his bedroom. There was nothing left to distract her from the memories of Vincent. His eyes pleading with her, his voice shaky.
She closed her eyes. Tears leaked out despite her efforts. Here she was, in Booth's apartment after how long wanting to be close to him, and all she could think of was Vincent. Why did he think she was the one making him leave? How could he have thought she didn't want him? What kind of person was she?
After hours of sitting in the dark, she finally drifted off to sleep, only to be awakened by a nightmare not long after. She cried into her pillow, but it wasn't enough. The dark was too much to bear alone with her thoughts.
Booth's door barely made a sound as it opened, but he still sat up so quickly she barely saw him move before his gun was pointed at her.
She apologized immediately, holding up her hands defensively. How easy it was to forget how intimidating he could be; that gun wasn't usually pointed at her. Why had she not thought of how on edge he would be with Broadsky still at large? That was why she was here after all, because he wanted her near, where he could protect her. What she had been thinking tumbled from her lips as she shook, still crying despite her efforts to articulate herself properly.
What she really wanted, for the first time in a very long time, was to just be held. Why was it so hard for her to make herself ask? Booth wasn't going to offer, it had to be her. "Could you just...?" She trailed off, hoping it was enough. It was.
"Yeah, that's what I'm here for." He pulled her close to him.
That was why he had brought her. Not just to protect her, but to comfort her if she needed it. Finally, his arms were around her. She sobbed into his chest and he just let her. She clutched him like an anchor. The tears slowed, and stopped. She felt drained and exhausted. Emotionally and physically. She looked up at Booth's face.
He smiled at her and leaned down, kissing her lips softly. Then he rubbed his hand up and down her back. "Get some sleep Bones. I'm here."
Brennan hesitated. Not sure, that if she just let it go, that she would get another chance.
"Don't worry. It can wait. We'll catch Broadsky, then... I'll kiss you again. I promise."
She sighed and nodded shakily, settling back into his chest.
Fear laced through her body. Staring at the phone, waiting for Booth's call, was so much worse than anything she had ever feared. When it rang, she was frantic to answer it. Broadsky was in custody. She exchanged a look with Angela. The artist knew what Booth had promised. That night, after saying goodbye to Vincent, she clutched Booth's arm fiercely. She was never letting him go. Figuratively speaking, of course. It was better than she had ever imagined, in Booth's bed that night. He was better. They could have lit the world on fire.
She worried about it almost obsessively. The positive pregnancy test scared her. She and Booth were just barely piecing things back together. What could this news change for them? Apprehension at even telling the father of her baby the truth made her hesitate. But when Booth spoke of Angela's and Hodgins' happiness, she gathered her courage.
His smile brought out her own.
Life. It has a way of surprising you. One day you're happy, maybe happier than you've ever been before. The next, tragedy could strike. It's a risk; to wake up everyday is to increase the odds exponentially of everything imploding around you.
However, these surprises aren't always big. They can be very small surprises that have no effect on the life you live or the world around you. Perhaps you get the surprise of waking up to a beautiful sunrise. To the person you love. Sometimes, you are surprised by simple things. The way he smiles, the way she smells.
Other times, the surprises are bad. The milk that has gone sour when you hadn't noticed and is now poured over the last bowl of your favorite cereal. The animal that streaks into the street and causes you to plow into a car parked at the side of the road.
Sometimes, though, the surprises are big, maybe even life changing, and it's amazing how many different shapes they can take. Like that of a single heartbeat.