Brennan is drunk; unfortunately for Booth it isn't happy 'I am gonna lay you good' drunk but sad, depressed 'why me?' drunk. Enjoy.
Set after the episode 'Knight on the grid'.
"Booth?" Brennan called out to her empty apartment, clutching a bottle of gin as she walked slowly around her home. Checking under every chair, in every cupboard and in the front of every book, she searched in vain for Booth. He was sure to be here somewhere; he was Booth, her armour in shining-knight.
That's not right.
He was her one constant; daddy may come and go and always be dressed in orange. Russ may show up when little Hayley is sick and then go join Max. Her mother may be dead- but Booth always remained.
Brennan clumsily pushed her auburn hair out of her face, her blue eyes glistening with tears. Seeing Russ being led away, seeing another member of her family leave her, truth be told, it broke her heart. Her cold, forensic-anthropologist heart.
My most meaningful relationships are with dead people.
She sobbed slightly as she swallowed another burning mouthful of gin. She wondered how anyone could find this stuff pleasurable. She seen pleasure, heard pleasure, felt pleasure and this was not it. This was nothing but a pathetic excuse for her to lose herself and not be in control of her thoughts or movements for one night, because that was not going to happen any other way.
No.
Not any other way at all.
"Where are you Booth?" She whispered to herself as she slid down to the cold, hard floor. She knew him and his alpha-male tendencies to 'check up' on her at ridiculous hours. Coffee in the morning.
"Get up Bones, we got a case!" Booth would hand her a polystyrene cup of some of the most god-awful stuff on Earth, smile politely at the door and fiddle incessantly with all of Bones' little trinkets whilst she readied herself for more death.
Man hugs in the dead of night. Booth's warm arm encompassing her, those were the times she reminded herself that there was someone who would not walk out of life. Not string up the head of the FBI and burn him. Not die on her and definitely not try to bury her alive.
A single tear rolled down her cheek; a mix of saltwater and mascara. Brennan knew she looked a mess, but she was too far gone to care. She hadn't drunk herself under the table like this for years- not since one of Angela's catastrophic 'have you met my friend Tempe?' parties.
There was no party this time however, only the beginning of a pounding headache slamming against the side of her skull and a loud ringing in her ears.
The scientist was going insane, Brennan let out a harsh laugh as a twisted thought ran through her inebriated mind.
Sweets will be pleased.
"Bones? Hey open up and let me in." The ringing continued impatiently and then the knocking began. Booth could make one hell of a noise when he wanted to. Not insanity, just Booth.
"Booth." Brennan said with a gasp, as she registered the faint sound of his voice through her door, a door that should not be swaying- but it was. Alternatively, it could be her swaying like she was on some boat.
Sully, he had a boat.
He'd left on the boat, left on Temperance to be exact.
Left on her.
Left her.
Falling back to the present, she stood up and trudged over the door. It slid open to reveal a worried looking Booth, relief flooded her ace when he saw her and smiled gently.
"BOOTH!" Brenan threw herself at him and flung her arms around his neck. The bottle of gin fell to the floor with a crash and began seeping between Brennan's toes. She jigged slightly, her arms still clasped heavily around Booth.
"Bones? Are you drunk?" Hardly a question worth asking, Booth could already smell the intoxicating drink on her breath; he had seen the unceremonious crack of glass and pooling gin land on her floor.
"If I let go I am going to fall over." She spoke into his chest and hung on for dear life.
"Well, I'll catch you Bones, but let's go inside 'kay?" Booth slowly manoeuvred back into her apartment and swiftly kicked the door shut with his foot.
Setting her down on the sofa, Booth frowned at Bones and motioned to the drink.
"Bones, you don't usually get drunk do you?" Booth asked, hardly keeping the concerned tone from his voice.
She looked so broken and honestly, a complete mess. A thousand possibilities for why the normally strong and determined Temperance Brennan was a crying, drunk replacement ran through his mind.
Ultimately the reason he found was, family. Or lack of, in her case.
"Why did you come?" Brennan asked, ignoring his question.
"Russ' jail sentence; seeing someone else walk away from you Bones. That's the reason I came. I needed to know you were OK. Which obviously you're not.
"I'm fine."
"You're completely hammered!"
"Hammers? Where?"
Had she dropped a hammer? She remembered dropping a bottle, then all she saw was Booth and not her father or mother or Gormogon or Kenton. Or anyone else who featured in her gin-fuelled hallucinations.
" You had to face the one thing you hate, again." Continued Booth.
"What one thing?"
"Abandonment."
"I was not abandoned." She said fiercely, pointing a shaking finger at Booth. "They just... left me."
Her voice cracked and she stared helplessly at something just beyond her reach.
"So getting drunk and doing... this helps does it?" Booth asked whilst he searched for her eyes to make contact with his. Still she avoided it; Brennan breathed deeply and tried to keep her bottom lip from quivering.
Even when she was the farthest from God- she still looked as beautiful as ever, mused Booth.
Nobody's perfect, but she sure as hell came close.
"No."
"Bones please." Booth pleaded with her, although he wasn't quite sure what about.
"Don't call me Bones." She said stubbornly, shaking her head, more out of not being able to stop the shaking than physically meaning to move.
Neither moved for what seemed liked hours, apart from Brennan's involuntary shivering and the gin that was creeping further across the floor, the room was still.
Slowly Booth put his arm around Bones and drew her in closer. When he realised she wasn't resisting he brushed the hair from her face and sat there watching her fall further into oblivion.
"Sleep Bones. Let the sea of alcohol running through your veins take you away to a land of fairies and unicorns and little men with pointy ears."
"None of those things are real Booth." Brennan muttered into his shoulder .
"I Know." He paused and smiled crookedly down at her. "Goodnight Bones."
She shifted in Booth's arms to find a position which would enable her hear his heart beating rhythmically in his chest. To hear the sound that reminded her of life. Tough, painful, lonely life that was all too often described as a bitch.
But she had found a reason to love it, a reason that was currently whispering goodnight in her ear.
It's back :)
No need to guess what it is though, it's Bones ofc.