A/N: I started this some time ago, and don't quite know where to take it next. I have 3 chapters already and will publish them as I can.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I am not brilliant enough.
Set: Anytime before the writers strike and the last few episodes of season 3.
Temperance Brennan was sitting at her desk completing the notes from her latest case for the FBI. She was desperate to finish for the prosecution to have them first thing n the morning. More and more she fell behind in her work at the Jeffersonian. Logically, her work here should come first. The FBI had no right to exploit her indispensible talent as they did.
Brennan finished the final type and saved her work. A look at the clock reminded her that she hadn't gotten much sleep lately, and would not catch any of that tonight. As she sent the email, footsteps could be heard outside her office. It was most likely the security guard making his rounds checking in on her again. She began checking her remaining email when the steps stopped at her doorway and a heavy sigh came from the intruder.
Brennan looked away from her computer, a tart response to the person who interrupted her and was stopped dead when she realized it was her partner Special Agent Seeley Booth. He stood there, leaning against the doorframe in his jeans, black tee shirt with some strange music group written on it, and his green jacket. Something was missing and Brennan felt something stir within her. The glow his eyes usually had when he smiled at any prospect of catching her off guard was gone. In its place, sad brown eyes stared down at the floor, unable to look at her.
"Booth, its late, what are you doing here?" she asked.
He didn't answer. Instead, he made his way to the couch in her office and settled heavily into it. Brennan left her desk slowly and sat down next to Booth; her light frame barely causing any shift in the fabric of the sofa. She leaned into the couch, resting her arm on the back, cradling her head, while bringing her ankles up to rest behind her.
At this close proximity, she could see that Booth had at some point prior to entering her office, been crying. He sniffled and took another deep breath that was staggered, still unable to meet her gaze. Brennan reached a hand out to touch his shoulder in comfort. She remembered how much better he seemed to feel when she had placed her hand on his arm that day at the Arlington National Cemetery. No sooner had her hand come in contact with his jacket, Booth leaned over and buried his head into her lap and hugged her waist tightly. His breathing was haggard and uncontrolled.
"Booth, is Parker…" she began.
"Parker is fine," he croaked. His voice broken from the pain he was feeling. No, he wasn't hurt over his son. Parker was home with his mother, Rebecca, safe and sound. He would call his son later once he himself had more time to process the news.
"Parker's fine," he began again, "actually, Bones. I got a call from my brother and…" a deep shudder racked his body. Brennan's hands swept from his shoulders down his back to hold him to her. She didn't know what to do. Her phone was on her desk and Angela just a call away, but she just couldn't think about leaving Booth even the fraction of a second it would take to grab it.
"Bones, my dad had a heart attack and died earlier today," Booth finally let out.
"Booth, I'm sorry…" Brennan whispered, tears now searing her eyes as she started down at him.
His grip tightened slightly. "Please, Temperance, I... I… just don't want to be alone," he stammered.
"I'm right here, Seeley," she confirmed, using his first name to comfort him, as he had used her first name to comfort her so many times before. "I won't leave you, I promise."
Brennan pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over Booth as he continued to sob into her lap. She held him close while still unsure of what to do, still unsure of what she was feeling. She sat there trying to list what to do about the broken man before her, and her broken heart that wished she could take his pain away from him. She knew how to read bones, not people. It was the main reason she worked so well with Booth. She would bring the evidence against the murderer, and he would get the confession. At last, Booth drifted off to sleep and Brennan laid her head on the back of the couch and soon joined him in sleep.
