Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. No matter how much I want to.
Just to let you know, the fic this is inspired by "Blinding" by Florence and the Machine. Which I am also madly in love with.
Heck if I know where this is going yet. Any thoughts?
She'd always been closed off. She knew that. Always trying to isolate her emotions, because when you're dealing with death and depression every day, they become too much to carry. So, she decided, that if you force yourself not to feel anything, you won't be disappointed when things don't work out in the end.
Secretly, though, Brennan always wished someone would change her. Prove her wrong about all she believed. A bit like something that would happen in an unrealistic romance movie.
In just one day, the doctor in the photo had changed her. Brennan had succumbed to the idea of fate after Booth had saved her, and had the very same idea ripped away from her just seconds later. How stupid could she be to think Booth would give up his love just to be with her? Hannah was his soul mate, if such a thing even existed. Brennan didn't know anymore.
Nothing in life was as simple or perfect as they made it out to be in movies. There was suffering and pain and death out there, and even though she dealt with it every day as a forensic anthropologist, was it wrong of her never to have felt the pain she was feeling right now?
Brennan knew she was lying when she'd told Booth she would be fine alone. She was laying in bed, but every time she fell asleep she'd either slip into a dream that would either leave her more brokenhearted or more terrified.
The image of the doctor in the photo flashed through her mind. Her face. Her hair. Her eyes. She was this woman.
The doctor needed to find danger to feel something. If she were to do that, maybe it would break her away from her emotionless state. That's what she was. Emotionless. Sadness had passed as soon as she'd left the car with Booth. Now she didn't feel anything. She was numb.
Climbing out of bed, the idea was already swirling in her mind. Slowly, feeling as if she were in a dream, she found herself at her bedroom window. So far from the ground…it was perfect. The danger would make her feel something.
Biting her lip, she gripped the walls with her hands and hoisted herself up into the open window. Staring down, she saw cars and people, most too busy to notice the woman looking down on them. Brennan turned her head to spot an air conditioner poking out of the building. It would give her enough room to stand, but not enough that she would feel secure.
Brennan gripped one of the intricate, small ledges that lined the building and stepped up onto the machine, her arms now in a horizontal line as she held onto the ledge behind her and looked down again.
Suddenly, a car pulled to a screech on the side of the road. It looked familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She leaned forward slightly, feeling in control; like nothing could harm her. Like a dream.
"Bones, what the hell are you doing?" Booth's voice rang, but it seemed distant, like he wasn't really there.
A jolt beneath her feet caused her to yelp, awakening her from her dreamlike state. The air conditioner was detaching itself from the wall, leaving her with barely any protection from the drop that would no doubt kill her if she fell. Brennan gripped to the ledges behind her, praying that she wouldn't fall.
"Bones!" Booth didn't need to be asked. He flew into the apartment with speed he barely recognized as his own, shoving people out of the way as needed. He darted up the stairs, hardly caring if he fell in the process, and pushed open Brennan's unlocked door.
Another scream came from the window as the air conditioner collapsed, allowing Brennan to lose balance. She flailed her arms wildly in attempt to somehow stay balanced, but it was no use. She would fall.
Just as she braced herself as much as she could for the drop, a pair of strong arms pulled her in. Still obviously in shock, Brennan wriggled in his arms, her fear keeping her from crying or even speaking.
"Calm down, Bones, you're fine," Booth spoke softly, as if he were to alarm her if he was too loud.
Brennan sat in the windowsill, unwilling to remove herself from his arms as she stared down at the small crowd that had gathered to watch the show.
"Thank you," she whispered, trying to shake the fear from herself.
Even after nearly falling and scaring herself to death, Brennan had to admit to herself that feeling afraid of the fall was better than feeling nothing. Anything was better than feeling nothing.
