Author Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. If I did, Bones and Brennan would have hooked up a LONG time ago :) And please review (and be nice but constructive). This is my first time back in the writing saddle since about 5 years ago. I have an idea of where I'm going with the story, so please enjoy!
Her body felt weary and unstable as she began the walk to exit the plane. The twenty-three hour plane ride seemed like an eternity, her body readjusting to the feeling of solid ground and gravity. Her ankles were swollen and the lack of sleep left a painful sensation above her left temple. Every breath seemed labored yet she felt a certain calm ride over her. This return, for whatever illogical reason, didn't seem the same to her. Angela and Dr. Sweets would have a better explanation for what was happening, but she could surmise that it most likely was related to feelings of recognition, commonality, and convenience. The temperatures in the Maluku Islands did not bother her as much as it did some of the workers. She was used to the temperatures due to her other expeditions. Some of the graduate students under her care had to be put on bed rest for a few days due to heat exhaustion, but she always pressed on.
She tumbled through the crowd at the busy airport; the symphony of voices, screams, and tears adding weight to her already throbbing head. She was surrounded by others embracing after a long separation, cheerful voices welcoming their missed ones back into their folds. Her aching body struggled to move through the crowd; her feet refused to move as quickly as she would like; her arm was searing in pain from pulling along her suitcase, which appeared to weight an extra hundred pounds. The more she walked the less energy she seemed to have; there was always another body to dodge. She kept running into people, despite her best efforts. She didn't bother to apologize, her words would be lost and she didn't feel it was her fault. She continued to trudge through this urban jungle, missing the stable trees from Maluku.
Her only source of comfort was the brightly lit exit sign that almost seared itself into her vision. She could feel her pulse slightly racing, most likely from the aerobics she had just preformed running through the crowd. Although still exhausted, she was better able to focus. She stepped through the exit and could have almost been mistaken as one of the crowd. Her eyes eagerly scanned the surroundings but found nothing familiar. She saw mothers running toward smiling children, husbands embracing wives, lovers separated by oceans. The crowd slowly filtered out following the migration patterns out of the airport. She stood staring for a second. A sadness washed over her for no explicit conscious reason. Her body refused to will itself to move.
She scanned the almost-vacant hallway again. There seemed to be a few stragglers but no one of interest. Who was she hoping to find? A deep sigh exited her frame and finally she continued on. Still, she kept turning around, seeking someone who seemed to only be a figment of her imagination. She was on her own.
The next few steps were a blur of exhaustion, colors, and familiar sights. In a half-conscious state she managed to hail a cab and find her way home. Her father had promised to take care of her apartment while she was gone. She hoped he had at least remembered to pick up her mail, even though most of it would be obsolete and unnecessary at this point. Pulling up to her apartment, she tipped the cab driver and climbed her aching self from the car. She needed to lay down on her own bed; her back was cramped and sore from nights on a cot and hours on a plane. Too exhausted to search for her own keys, she pulled her spare out from under the light a few feet a way. The overpowering smell of stale air and her favorite sandalwood fragrance slammed her in the face. Her apartment was dark, desolate. Nothing warm waited her inside. Flipping on a switch, she noted the pile of mail on the table and the large bouquet of flowers sitting calmly on the table. Unnecessary, but a very symbolic gesture that encouraged social relations. The flowers, according to the attached card, were from her father. She pulled off her shoes and placed them neatly on the mat by the door. She instantly opened a few windows to let fresh air enter the home and to avoid breathing in the layers of dust that accumulated in her absence.
On her way back to the kitchen, she found a bottle of ibuprofen sitting on the shelf. She casually glanced at the expiration date - it was almost 6 months past. Yet she still pour two out and headed to the kitchen. The active ingredients were still fine; the expiration date was a ploy for consumers to purchase more. Downing the two pills with a glass of water, she noticed how different the water tasted. The metallic aftertaste hung in her mouth and seemed to not leave. She opened her fridge in hopes of finding something to quell the taste but found only a bottle of ketchup, a half-drunk bottle of wine, and a shrivel lime. Giving up, she headed over to her answering machine. Her business line was full, but her private line only had 3 messages. She pressed the play button and the noise filled her empty apartment and echoed through the walls. "Brennan, hun, it's Angela. Welcome back! I can't wait to hear all about your trip. Give me a call when the jet-lag wears off. I have some exciting news." The machine's overly eager beep echoed in her ears. "Hi Dr. Brennan, it's Cam. I just wanted to say welcome back and I can't begin to explain to you how much I've missed you. Let me know if you need anything and I look forward to seeing you back at work soon. It hasn't been the same without you." Cam's voice sounded sincere; she could only wonder what chaos ensued at the Jeffersonian in her absence. Another screeching beep. "Tempe, it's Dad. Welcome home, honey. I missed you. I hope you liked the flowers I left you. I couldn't remember what you liked best so I got you a little bit of everything. I left your mail on the table and I'm going to come by later tonight with some food for you since I know there's nothing in the fridge. I'll try to be quiet in case you're sleeping. I love you sweetheart. It's so good to know you're safe." Beep. No more messages. Her head pounded and she no longer felt like she could stand. She sat down at the table to regain some energy. She checked her cell-phone, no notifications. She never considered herself smitten or dependent. She never depended on anyone but herself. Yet at this moment, she could feel a twinge of hurt, of pain. Not just the physical pain, but the emotional pain. The pain that had taken over her body when her parents had left; the pain that encompassed her when she realized she was truly alone in the world. She checked her phone again. What mistake had she made? What fault had she committed? Where was he? Why hadn't he met her at the airport? Logically she knew he could be busy. But emotionally, irrationally, just for a moment... She missed him.
