David Bowie died today. He was a cultural icon to say the least.
I definitley don't own Bones.
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He'd heard the news on the way to work and at first he had felt sad. Another cultural icon gone too soon. David Bowie released an album on January 8th and today he was dead from cancer. Hell, did anyone even know he was sick? The news was quite a shock.
As the morning wore on he grew melancholic. He didn't know why, but the sadness wouldn't go away. By eleven that morning he'd had enough. He didn't have a case to work on and the paper work he needed to do held little interest. After rereading Agent Merrick's 'after action' report for the third time, Booth knew that he wasn't going to get anything done that day.
Before he left his office, he called Brennan to let her know she couldn't count on him to come and get her after work. She had assured him that either Angela would bring her home or she'd catch a cab. She also let him know that she would pick the children up from Day Care. She sensed something was wrong, but her husband insisted he just didn't feel well and a day off would take care of things.
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Brennan tried to keep her mind on her job, but as the morning turned into afternoon, she knew that staying at work was not an option. Something was wrong with Booth and she wanted to know what it was. Was he having a bad day? Was the gambling urge calling to him? There seemed to be more to it than just not feeling well and Brennan couldn't let it go.
After she let Cam know that she was going home, she made arrangements with Angela to have her pick up Christine and Hank from Day Care when she went to get Michael Vincent later that day. The children would stay with her until Brennan could come and get them.
Angela was worried for Booth and Brennan. Brennan's nervousness made her anxious. "Listen Sweetie, if you need for me to watch the kids tonight, just call me and let me know. It won't be a problem."
Hugging her friend, Brennan released her quicky and gathered her purse from her desk and her jacket from the coat tree. "Thank you. I don't know what's going on, but Booth sounded so strange when he called me. I need to find out what's going on. I'll call you later this afternoon."
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By one that afternoon, Brennan was home. Entering the house, she heard loud music coming from the living room. The music a little too loud for her taste, she placed her purse and jacket on the counter that divided the kitchen from the aisle leading to the living room and stepped into the living room.
Booth was sitting on the couch, one foot propped up on the coffee table, his eyes closed. His right hand held a half filled glass of liquor. The bottle of Scotch rested on the coffee table next to Booth's foot.
Moving over to the juke box, Brennan lowered the music to a more bearable decimal level. Once that was accomplished, she turned back to face her husband. Surprised that he hadn't reacted, she walked around the couch and sat down next to him.
His eyes still closed, Booth sipped his Scotch and then lowered his glass. "What are you doing home?"
The timber of his voice was low and slightly slurred which raised her anxiety. "You sounded strange on the phone. I was worried about you."
Opening his eyes, Booth finished his drink, pulled his foot off of the coffee table and placed the now empty glass on the low table next to the bottle of Scotch. "It's stupid . . . I didn't know him. He was a mega star. I didn't know him and he sure as hell didn't know me, but I'm sad . . . I can't help it. I'm sad that he died."
Cautiously, Brennan placed her hand on his knee. "Are you talking about David Bowie? I heard he died this morning."
Booth turned slightly to face his wife. "Yeah . . . I heard about it on the way to work. It made me sad and . . . it's dumb, but I kept getting sadder and sadder. I couldn't stay at work, so I came home. I just had to."
The last song dying out, a new song began on the juke box and the room was filled with 'Space Oddity'.
Shaking his head, Booth placed his hands over his face, "Oh God, I forgot that was on the album. I just . . . I just wanted to pay my respects and listen to his music, but that song . . ."
Her concern growing, Brennan squeezed his knee. "David Bowie represented a lot of things to a lot of people. You love music and you connect to the songs of the older entertainers from the 70's and 80's. It's alright to feel sad that someone you admired has died, Booth."
Grimly, Booth lowered his hands and looked at this wife. "'Space Oddity' was my Dad's favorite song. He'd get into one of his moods and he'd play that song over and over again . . . That song came out in 1969, the year before I was born. You know my Dad flew F 105 Thunderchiefs in Vietnam. He loved being a pilot . . . When he was shot down and hurt . . . It killed a little of his soul that he never flew again after he was hurt. One minute he was a pilot and the next minute he was a barber . . . It twisted something inside of him."
Brennan knew all about Edwin Joseph Booth and she was grateful she had never met the man. If she had, she would have been compelled to let him know what a horrible person he truly was. "Yes, I remember you telling me about it."
Booth let her words slip by barely noticed. "That song, 'Space Oddity' . . . that song represented how screwed up his life became. He saw himself as Major Tom . . . I guess David Bowie hit a major chord that my Dad needed to hear, but . . . anyway, I heard that David Bowie died this morning and it was like my old man dying once more. First my Dad died and now his song has died."
Slipping her arm around his back, Brennan leaned against her husband. "I'm sorry you're sad, Booth."
His arm now around her shoulders, Booth sighed. "Thanks Bones. Like I said, it's dumb that I'm reacting this way, but sometimes, things happen that don't make sense. I'll be alright. I'll mourn a great singer's death today and tomorrow my life will go on . . . thank you for coming home and checking on me, Bones. I needed someone to talk to and I guess I didn't realize it until you got here."
Some of the sadness seemed to be leaving him and for that Brennan was grateful. "It's not dumb to react to the death of someone famous Booth. It's true you didn't know him and he didn't know you, but that's beside the point. He represents your father's need to try to understand what had happened to him. I can see that. I can also see how your father's obsession would affect you as you grew up and listened that song when your father was having a difficult time. It represents a bad time in your life, but it also connects you to the man your father was. When you heard that David Bowie died I can only assume that you felt that one of your connections to your father had been severed. Good or bad, Edwin was your father and it's hard to lose a parent."
Pulling her closer to his side, Booth kissed the side of her head. "Thanks for understanding. Thanks for coming home and checking on me . . . I love you Bones. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. The best."
Shifting in her seat, Brennan turned enough so that she could kiss her husband. "I love you Booth. We'll get through this day together."
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I wanted to write a little tribute to David Bowie. I hope you liked it.