AUTHORS NOTES: Hey everybody! Okay, so in this story Sweets is a four year old in the foster care system. His adoptive parents are Booth and Brennan.
WARNING: Mentions of pedophilia and child abuse, minor use of curse words.
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Lance POV:
Lance blinked several times and swallowed nervously. His right arm itched where it was encased in green plaster, but he held perfectly still, not wanting to draw the attention of his social worker. The four year old was standing at the front door of a nice two-story Victorian remake, a social worker at his side, his arm in a cast, his back covered in stiches and bandages, waiting for his new foster parents to answer the door. He shivered, stifling a gasp when it pulled at the stiches. Without warning, the door opened and he was staring up into the face of a bough man with blonde hair. Lance scooted behind the social worker's legs, gripping her skirt with all his might. He knew she wouldn't hurt him; after all, she had saved him from his father! But he wasn't sure about this new man.
Booth POV:
Booth gazed down at the shivering little boy clinging desperately to the social workers skirt. The kids black curly hair hung over the right side of his face, not quite covering a deep purple bruise that stood out against his chalky skin. As his eyes slid over the child, he noticed the boy's clothing. It was clearly too large, hanging off him like he was a scarecrow. Booth smiled and squatted down to the boy's level. "Hey buddy," he said softly. "Would you like to come in and sit down?" The child didn't respond, merely shivered and lowered his wide frightened eyes. Booth sighed, stood and addressed the social worker. "Come on in, we've been expecting you."
Lance POV:
He didn't want to go in, but the nice lady was going in, and the fear of being left alone outweighed his fear of entering the house. Lance slowly shuffled after her, scrunching further into himself as he walked past the man. The door closed behind him and he noticed a dark haired lady standing by the couch. Suddenly Lance felt a panic attack coming from the idea that he was stuck in the same room with these people. Hunching over, he hurried to the closest corner, sat down, and pulled his knees to his chest, ignoring the pain that caused his back.
Brennan POV:
Brennan stood as she heard Booth open the door. They didn't immediately come in and she was about to sit back down, when she heard footsteps shuffling across the hardwood flooring. A woman wearing a power suit entered first, her heels clicking ferociously against the wood; following her, and closely shadowed by Booth, was a very thin little boy. He was very pale, and his frightened chocolate eyes were surrounded by dark rings, causing him to look slightly corps-like. His eyes flicked over her, and she almost missed the small hitch in his breathing. Quickly glancing away, he hurried to the farthest corner and put his face against his knees.
No one's POV:
"Right, let's have you sign the papers, and then I think I'll probably take my leave," said Lauren Camden, the social worker. She flashed a reassuring smile at the two soon to be parents. "Don't worry," she said so Lance couldn't hear. "He'll get used to being here soon, just don't push him." With that, Ms. Camden reached into her purse and pulled out several official looking sheets. For the moment Lance was forgotten in favor of signing the papers. Booth was the last to sign, and he handed the pen back to Ms. Camden when he was finished. She placed the papers back inside her bag, said her goodbyes, and got up to leave.
Lance POV:
His thoughts were jumbled, harried and frantic. He was so focused on calming himself that he almost didn't hear the social worker as she stood to leave . . . Almost. His head whipped up so fast that an audible crack was heard by all the room's inhabitants. He scrambled to his feet, stretching the skin around his stitches and causing him to whimper in pain. "No! No, you can't leave! Please, I'll be good, I promise!" Lance frantically shouted after the quickly fleeing Ms. Camden. He launched himself across the room, but was a second to late, and the door closed in his face. Despite his best efforts, Lance felt his bottom lip begin to quiver; he hung his head as hot tears slipped down his ghostly cheeks.
Booth POV:
He slowly approached the fragile child, concern etched into his features as he carefully reached out and touched the boy's shoulder. Whatever reaction he was expecting, it wasn't the one he got. Lance screamed and flung himself away from Booth.
"Please, I'm s-sorry! I'll s-stop c-c-crying n-now. . ." Lance whimpered, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, salty tear tracks glistening down his face.
"Hey, shh . . . I'm not gonna hurt you, I just want to know you're okay. Are you?" Booth tried to make his tone as soft and unthreatening as possible. Apparently it worked to some extent, because the child's tears slowed, and his eyes cautiously opened.
"Y-yeah, I'm okay. . ." Lance responded hesitantly. "Y-you're n-not angry?" His large brown eyes stared up at Booth through a tangle of his shoulder length curls. Booth smiled encouragingly, shaking his head in a gentle 'no', while he shot Brennan a sideways glance. She came forward slowly, dropping to her knees so as to be at his height.
Brennan POV:
Brennan stayed slightly behind Booth as she made a show of stretching her hand towards him. Pretending not to notice as he scooted farther away from them, she said softly, "My name is Temperance Brennan, and this is Seely Booth, but you can call us whatever you want. What should we call you?" She sat silently, waiting for a response and hoping that she hadn't scared the child; after all, she wasn't known for her people skills. Her efforts were rewarded however, when a small and shaking hand carefully grasped her fingers in a gentle handshake.
Lance POV:
"L-Lance . . . You c-can call me Lance, if that's what you want!" he hurried to add, worried that he might've overstepped his bounds. He quickly withdrew his hand, not wanting to incur a punishment so soon in his stay. Lance tucked his head down, but was drawn to look up again when he heard the woman- no, Temperance, address him.
"Well Lance, it's a pleasure to meet you."
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Well, what do ya'll think? Should I continue? Please R&R!