I'm starting to think of myself as the queen of the one shot. This is kind of an angsty one, touching on Pops' secret and a little confession of Booth's from season 4. Of course there is love and comfort thrown in. A little in the future, maybe dipping into where season 7 will take us. I hope you like it.

Past and Future

The skeleton had been so very small.

That was all Brennan could think when she finally made it home after an exhausting few days. Booth was still tying up a few ends, so she had some time to think, alone, in some very non-scientific ways. A relatively new concept for her to be sure and she didn't always find it relaxing. Angela had said that a baby changes everything.

She wasn't kidding.

The tiny girl, Kelly Coker, had been only five years old, but her bones had borne the damage of abuse that no one should ever experience, much less all in five short, merciless years. There were signs of malnourishment, beatings, confinement…despite all she had seen, both in her work with the FBI and otherwise, the cruelty this child had lived with was beyond Brennan's ability to compartmentalize.

Usually she was good at separating work and emotions. But this time it was incredibly difficult. Now, as she sat on the couch, shoes off, hands on her belly, feeling her own baby move inside her, it became damn near impossible.

Brennan had had, all in all, a nice early childhood. A teacher dad and a book keeper mom and a caring, protective big brother. Idyllic, really, if you didn't know the real story. And she hadn't, so her dad leading them in song on long car trips or her mom's time on the PTA had never seemed forced or phony. She'd been good, rarely in trouble for much, except for maybe her stubborn streak. But she'd lived for her father's approval and her mother's smile and so she'd always behaved.

The baby gave a good solid kick and she rubbed her belly in silent promise of a better life than the young girl whose bones had told such a horrific story.

She sighed, her eyes landing on a picture of Booth and Parker and she thought, not for the first time, how very lucky Parker was to have Booth as his father. He was patient and fun and involved and enthusiastic…all the good qualities she remembered about her own father from when she was young. Her partner was such a good man, her baby and Parker so fortunate.

Tears pricked her eyes and she mentally cursed her hormones. Parker and Little B, as they had taken to calling the baby, would have a wonderful father despite the kind of father Booth himself had had. She didn't know the details. He'd never talked much about it. She knew his father had been a drunk and a mean one at that. He'd beaten their mother and the boys. Their house had not been a happy home. If not for Hank…

She shuddered at the thought of a small Booth being beaten senseless by a man who was supposed to love him. Much like the man they'd arrested today was supposed to love and protect his own little girl.

She heard the key turn in the lock. She knew his mood would be as low as her own, maybe worse.

"Hey Bones." He looked worn, circles under his eyes and in his eyes he bore the look of someone who, once again, had been disappointed by human nature.

She did not stop to realize her own eyes looked much the same. "Hi."

He dropped his dufflel bag by the door and took off his jacket, and by his jeans and t-shirt attire she surmised that he'd gone to the gym after he'd gotten the suspect all locked away, the paperwork completed. He'd probably tried to work off some of his anger over the case. He put his gun in the gun safe she'd recently purchased for her apartment and went to the refrigerator.

"I bought beer, but there's stronger stuff, too." The gym would not have been enough. She knew he would want to numb a little now and she was jealous that he could when she, obviously, could not.

He chose a beer, though, most likely a small gesture in deference to her, and sat down next to her on the couch.

They were silent a long time. Sometimes, even when words aren't necessary, proximity and touch are. She'd learned that in her time with him; the value in both the receiving and the giving of body language and physical contact.

So she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, needing to feel his strong, protective form and hoping there was comfort in the gesture for him as well.

"Yeah." He answered to all the words she didn't say. "I know." He dropped his cheek onto the top of her head.

More silence. Not uncomfortable, really, but she felt like she might suffocate on the sadness of it all.

"No matter how bad it got in my house, I never thought he'd kill me just because."

That made her sit up so she could look at him. Instantly missing the soothing touch, she reached for his hand with hers. "Not like Kelly Coker's father."

"But he could have. He really might have, you know?"

She didn't. Not really. "Tell me." She encouraged.

He focused his eyes on the floor, unable to look at her, certain he wouldn't be able to shoulder her pain for his history along with his own.

"There was fighting all the time." He started slowly, pacing his story because he was sure that if he didn't all the words would tumble out at once and he wouldn't be able to control the feelings that came with them.

"I think I was five the first time I realized it was about alcohol. I mean, it always sounded like it was about other things. I remember him screaming at her about having dinner on the table and her crying, begging him not to go to the bar afterwards because there wasn't any money in the account to spare. I remember a lot of fights about money, but I eventually figured out they were really about the money he was spending on alcohol or the amount of work he was missing with no pay because of alcohol or the things he was doing with money while he was drunk." He stopped and took a swig of beer.

"Was he…" she swallowed the nervous feeling she could taste in her mouth. "Was he gambling?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I always thought he was spending it on drinking and buying rounds, but I guess it's possible." He shrugged. "It's not like I ever asked."

"You were just a child. It wouldn't have made sense to you no matter what the explanation. Addiction is a difficult concept for anyone to understand."

He nodded slowly, only vaguely aware of what she said, too lost in his memory to really hear her. "I can remember the first time I saw him hit her. I was surprised. And I remember…" he trailed off, his voice thick with sadness and anger.

"You remember what, Booth?" She prodded gently.

"I remember that I was surprised that he hit her, but more than that I was surprised that she wasn't surprised. Does that make sense?"

"It had happened before."

"I guess. I never knew it. But it was like she was used to it. Expected it. She just got up off the floor and went back to fixing dinner like it was no big deal."

She squeezed his hand.

"That was when he hit me for the first time. I stood up to him. Told him not to do that to her. I remember I said 'Don't hit my mom!'" He choked out a bitter laugh. "He knocked me across the room without saying a word. I was five, just like Kelly Coker."

Brennan couldn't keep the tears out of her eyes.

"I think…" he swallowed "I think she fought harder with him after that. I think she wanted to keep him off me. Jared was a baby then, my dad left him alone. And my mom, you know, she did the best she could. She would send me upstairs when she'd see him staggering up the sidewalk. Or she'd send me to Pops for the night when he was on a bender. If she could help it, she wouldn't let him touch me, even if it cost her."

"She loved you."

"Yeah." He seemed to be trying to work through something in his mind, so she waited.

"I don't think she had any fight left in her, though, you know? So when she got sick she didn't have anything left to give."

"Was it cancer?"

He nodded mutely. "My dad, he sobered up for the funeral. Long enough to make promises to me and Jared about how things were going to be different. He lasted 3 whole days before he was so drunk he beat me for not taking the garbage to the curb." The bitter laugh again. "It wasn't even garbage day."

Her tears spilled over. So did his. Hers were of sorrow, his of anger.

"I kept him off Jared whenever I could. I did what my mom did for me."

"You protected your brother. You've always been a protector. It's who you are. It's one of the things I love about you," she comforted softly.

"I egged him on, Bones, if that was what it took. Most of the time it worked, but the beatings… they were bad. I wore long sleeves and jeans all freaking year long to hide the bruises. You would think someone would have noticed, but no one ever did. Not 'til Pops actually walked in and saw it happening."

She felt unsure. Hank had said she would know when the time was right to share what she knew, but she wasn't sure she would ever be certain about telling him Hank's secret. So she asked "What happened that time?"

"I passed out. He'd been…it was a bad one. I saw Pops come in right as he shoved me back. I hit my head on something, the kitchen counter, I think, and I was out. When I woke up my dad was gone and I was on a gurney with paramedics. I never saw him again."

"Did that…did that upset you? That he was just gone?"

"I didn't miss him, if that's what you mean."

"Booth," she hesitated a breath. "Hank…Hank told me something. Something he's been afraid to tell you, but thinks that you should know."

"So he told you instead?" He looked at her now, his eyes red with exhaustion and raw emotion.

"Yes." She took a deep breath. "He wanted me to tell you, when the time was right, that he is the one who made your father leave. He ordered him out. He was so angry…he just wanted to save you from his son and that was all he could think to do." She was still unsure of her timing, but Hank's secret was weighing on her and she didn't think it was fair to Booth to keep it from him anymore. "I'm sorry."

He smiled at her. It didn't reach eyes, but it was genuine, just the same. A smile of trust and comfort within sadness. "I knew, Bones."

"You did?" She shouldn't have been surprised. Booth was a smart man, very people wise. Yet she was surprised, just the same.

"Yeah. Jared was there. He was seven then. Old enough to tell me what happened. I guess Pops didn't know he'd heard."

"He feels so guilty. He thought you'd be angry."

"Nah. He saved my life. I know that now."

"Once, in Sweet's office, you said if it weren't for your grandfather…"she couldn't complete the sentence. It was too horrible an idea to put out there once again.

"I would have killed myself. Yeah."

"Really? It seems unlike you. The you that I know, anyway."

"Yeah, well, you know, I was a scared kid. It didn't seem like it was ever going to end. I wouldn't have killed myself in any way that you might think, but suicide by father was always an option. I would have died to save Jared from what he was doing to me."

"And who would have saved Jared then?" She was unreasonably angry at young Booth, but she tried to tramp it down. It wasn't logical, but she felt it nonetheless.

"I figured he'd go to prison and Jared would be safe."

There was something different about the way he wasn't looking at her now and suddenly, from a gut feeling she didn't really believe in, she knew. "Is that what you were doing the night Hank came over? The night he threw your father out?"

A long pause and then:

"Sweets would say yes."

"What do you say?"

"I guess it's possible. I was encouraging him, calling him names, trying to hit back. I'd never done that before. But he'd knocked Jared out of a chair and I just… I just didn't care anymore. I needed it to stop, however that might happen."

"So Pops literally saved your life."

"Yeah. I think he did."

Silence reigned again.

After a while, she took his hand and laid it on the side of her stomach. The baby didn't so much kick as roll underneath his palm, as if on cue. For the first time since the Kelly Coker case began, his face brightened a bit.

"I'm very, very thankful for your Pops." she whispered.

"Me too." Now it was his turn to lean on her shoulder, his hand still under hers, resting on their unborn child.

She took a deep breath. "I had a different experience than you. I had amazing Christmases. We cut down our own tree every year. My mother liked Halloween and she made us the most elaborate costumes on the block."

He listened. He knew a lot about her, but not this. Not her early years.

"We ate dinner together as a family every night, the four of us, around the table. No television, no answering the phone. Just us." She had a far away quality to her voice that sounded wistful and it pulled at Booth's heart. "Russ and I did our homework at that table while my mom made dinner. My dad would sit with us and help us when we needed it."

The baby rolled again and Booth imagined his Bones would give anything to share that with her mother.

"I can only remember one argument between my parents and it ended with them laughing." She smiled at the memory. "They were always laughing. We all were. I can remember picnics and trips to the beach and trips to museums. Sunday mornings were pancake mornings. On really special Sundays, we'd have pajama days and just stay in and play games or watch an old movie."

"It sounds nice." And it did.

"It was. Sometimes I wonder how they did it. How could they be so happy knowing the danger that lurked out there, just waiting to find them? But I didn't know about that, then. I just thought I had a nice family."

"You did have a nice family. The kind of family I always wanted."

"I want that now."

He sat up and waited for clarification. "You want, what exactly?"

"That nice family. Love and laughter and Christmas trees and family dinners and trips to the beach and all those other things. I want that for our baby. And for Parker when he's with us. And for you. I really want those things for you."

"I have you. And Little B. And Parker. I have everything I want. I'm happy, Bones. We already are that family."

"You think? Sometimes, when cases like this come along, I wonder if we bring them home with us. If the baby will know before he should about the horrible things people do in this world."

"You didn't."

"What?"

"You didn't know about the bad stuff. And what your parents were running from was far scarier than anything we deal with most days. If they can do it, we can too."

"I hadn't thought about it that way."

"Well that's what I'm here for." He smiled at her, a real smile this time, one that lit up his eyes the way that she loved. "We're the best at everything we do, Bones. Your parents were good, but we're better."

"Yes. I would agree. We're better." She said, remembering how short her carefree childhood really was.

"We're the best, Baby!" He turned on his charm smile, tired of the melancholy feeling that had saturated the air.

She had to laugh, his enthusiasm contagious.

"There it is! My favorite sound!" He loved it when he made her laugh. "I love you, Bones. I always will. Nothing's going to keep us from being that happy family. Nothing."

"I want to believe that you're right"

"Then believe me."

"I do. I believe you. And I love you, too." She smiled. "We can do this." She patted her stomach.

"You know it, Bones! You know it."

"Yeah. I think I do."

~End~

I really do, perhaps pathetically, live for reviews. Thank you!