Two. Days. In. The. Trunk. Of. A. Car.
The words kept repeating themselves over and over in his head. Booth let the rage overwhelm him as he took his anger out on the bag. He kept trying to picture the faces of people he had never seen imagining his fists pounding them to a pulp.
"TWO DAYS IN THE TRUNK OF A CAR!" The words were each punctuated by four right and then four left jabs. "For breaking a fucking dish!" Quickly followed by a right uppercut and then a roundhouse kick. Each punch, jab and kick only seemed to enrage him more.
He was angry that he was taking his anger out on the inanimate punching bag instead of the low lives responsible for the pain he had seen in Bones' face. He wanted to hunt them down, he wanted to hurt them, and he even wanted them dead. He felt no guilt for wishing he would be the one to deliver them to their final resting place. No, not even Catholic guilt could reach him at this point. He felt rage, righteous rage. But no matter how much he wanted, needed to hunt them down he knew he couldn't. Bones would not approve and he knew that if he did try to avenge her, she would never share with him anything like that again. Oh it would be easy to track them down, quietly sneak into their homes in the dead of night, and carry them off to a remote location and rain justice down on them for several hours before ending their miserable lives. Bones would even understand. But she wouldn't appreciate the risk to his career, the risk that no matter how careful he would be there would be a possibility of someone connecting their disappearance to his inquiry.
"Two days in the trunk of a fucking car!"
The fury was now being replaced by helplessness; he hadn't been able to protect her. He understood the obvious flaw in his logic. He hadn't even known her back then and if he had, he wouldn't have been able to do anything about it anyway. But he hadn't been able to protect her the other night as she shared from her past. Protect her from meddling psychiatrists with their dumb ideas that digging around in the past brought about healing. Didn't they know that you can only achieve true healing not by dwelling on what was behind you, but by looking forward? Sure, everyone carries around painful memories from their past that they never forget, but you learn and grow in spite of that pain and then prove you are stronger by facing your future. Talking and dredging up those old memories didn't make the past go away. They just made Bones cry. He hated it when she cried. A right cross to the bag, this time Sweets face appeared. Gordon-Gordon's face even flashed briefly on the surface of the bag. He had just wanted to invite Sweets over for dinner, he had had no intention of them sharing anything from their past. If he had known that was what she had had on her mind, he never would have driven her over there. A simple call from the cell phone would have been fine. He had even started to leave as soon as Sweets had declined, but then Bones had blurted out that horrific story so fast he hadn't had time to stop her. His first instinct had been to put himself between her and Sweets. He had tried to tell her with his eyes that she didn't need to talk about this in front of Sweets. If she was ever going to share anything like that from her past it would be with him and only him. No one else needed to see her pain. He was the one that had worked his way into her defenses and dammit he wasn't planning on inviting the whole world in too.
Booth could feel fatigue setting in. He wasn't sure how long exactly he had been working the bag, but the rage and hopelessness was receding now, determination taking hold. Bones would never feel that kind of pain again on his watch. He would protect her. Of course he could never tell her that. But he would protect her. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. Ok, maybe he couldn't protect her from everything, but he would provide her with a safe shelter. He would make damn sure that it would be made right, no matter what the cost. How else could he explain sharing what he did in front of Sweets? His determination to keep his past firmly hidden dissolved with one look at the plea coming from her teary gaze. The only way he was able to force the words out was by never tearing his eyes off of her face. Whatever she needed he would provide. He had been compelled to demonstrate this with a painful story and a handkerchief. What he had truly wanted to do was to pull her in to a hug and physically let her know he was a safe place. But not in front of Sweets, he had already seen too much. He would make sure that from this point forward, no matter what hurt Bones he would be there to help her. He would be the one to help her pick up the pieces and put them back together. Booth wasn't completely selfless though in this desire. No, he received his reward from the way she carefully re-folded his handkerchief, from the small open smile she gave him as she shyly tucked it back in his breast pocket, and the reassuring pat she placed on his chest. Booth caught the bag between his hands and rest his forehead against it smiling gently. No, he wouldn't call himself an entirely selfless man.