This one's for Sleeplessinatlanta, who just inspired me. Like literally, in the past 30 minutes. It's a tag for the season finale (Which i mostly liked).
Hope everyone is doing well!
-b&b-
Brennan clenched her hand on the handle of her suitcase, wondering why it seemed to feel twice as heavy.
Booth.
Her chest was tight, and for a moment, she felt like doing something irrational, something from one of those movies Angela was always trying to get her to watch. Something like run after Booth, tell him…
But…tell him what? She closed her eyes briefly, wondering why the confusion and worry she'd been feeling for the past few weeks hadn't subsided at all. She'd identified the issue…her partnership with Booth. It was causing confusion and she worried. She worried about him, about what could happen to him.
Identifying the problem was always the first step in finding a solution; that was a method of study she'd employed for years. But her solution…
"Dr. Brennan?" Daisy was saying, and Brennan blinked, focusing on the younger woman.
"Yes?"
Daisy motioned toward the gate, "We're loading now."
Brennan nodded once and then walked with her carry-on toward the open door. She was growing increasingly annoyed with her mind lately and how it seemed to create romanticized metaphors, unreasonable feelings for inanimate objects.
Why did a plane have to feel like such a step? Why did this open door feel like a closed one? Why?
Why was her heart breaking? Why was her hand tingling? Why did her arms feel empty? Why? Why? Why?
She closed her eyes as soon as she sat in her seat, and she watched, not paying attention as the safety requirements were displayed to the passengers. An oxygen mask sounded heavenly at the moment, her lungs so tight. So. Tight.
What if…?
What if…?
Her mind raced, and she was unable to gain control. One year. In the scheme of things, that's all it was. What did that even mean?
Why did this trip feel even more dangerous? Was it because Booth wasn't 'home' to meet her when she got back? Was it because everything had shifted? Why had everything shifted after she made her choice to accept the project? Why did she have to be the cause? She was trying to react...
Why? Why was she feeling responsible? Why couldn't she stop worrying?
"Bones," he'd whispered that night in her apartment. "Don't worry. We're going to win."
"Booth," she'd pulled back, her hands not quite able to move from his chest just yet. "Taffet is smart. I just…I don't know."
He'd tried to laugh. "Bones, you're worrying me. Come on, now."
With that, she'd pulled away. "I don't want you to worry about me, Booth." Her hands clenched at her sides, she'd turned away, unable to see his face, knowing that the same expression mirrored her own heart.
She'd sensed him step closer to her and a chill ran up her spine as he leaned closer. "Bones, there will never be a moment I'm not worried about you."
Brennan blinked from her reverie as the plane reached a high altitude. She looked around, seeing different expressions on strangers' faces. Each person had some reason for being on that plane. No one knew her reasons. She wasn't even sure herself.
"Ma'am?" the attendant smiled and placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of Brennan. "Would you like some water as well?"
Brennan stared for a moment and then looked up. "Yes please. And…do you have any brown sugar?"
-b&b-
