A/N:I haven't written any fanfic in a long time, but this idea struck me and it wouldn't let me go. I hope I'm not too rusty.
Some spoilers for DITP.
No infringement is intended.
"If I could pretende to fall,
Falla little out of love, I can't
I can't a little bit"
-A Little Bit, Madi Diaz
The second she was inside her apartment, she exhaled slowly. The shaky breath freed her from more weight than she though she could carry. She slowly removed her coat, then her shoes.
She peeled off the clothes, threw them in the hamper. To be washed. Despite the fact that she knew, logically, that once being washed, they should smell of detergent, she knew the brain didn't work that way. Her blouse would always smell of rain water, of wet pavement. Despite the fact that she knew better, her blouse would smell like pain.
She knew she should take a warm shower, but she couldn't. She couldn't bear to be alone anymore. Just for a minute, she needed to escape from herself.
She found her phone in her jacket pocket and scrolled through her contacts. She hit the call button as she went to her bedroom to change into dry clothes.
"Hello?" The voice on the other line was a tired voice.
"Hi, uh, sorry to wake you, but uh-" She was silent for too long, obviously.
"What's wrong? What happened? Is it the case?"
"No, uhm, it's Booth. Or. Well, it's me, I suppose. I don't- I'm not really-"
The small comfort made her feel better than she'd have thought, and she smiled weakly.
"I'll meet you. Need me to pick you up?"
"No, I can meet you at the Diner?"
"Sounds good, see you in about twenty minutes?"
"Yes, thank you."
There was a knocking at the door, suddenly, considering it was after 2 am. Booth rose from his bed, dreading the moment he'd need to face whoever was on the other side of the threshold.
When he opened the door, it was not who he had expected. "Hodgins?"
"May I come in?"
"Uh, sure," Booth said stepping aside. "What are you doing here?"
"Well mostly," he said, "I'm here to fuck you up. But we both know you'd win that fight."
"What?"
"Angela didn't send me." Jack said, moving past Booth, into the small apartment. "Where's your girlfriend?"
"Assignment in Raleigh. She'll be back tomorrow."
"Explains why you were following Dr. B around."
Booth's intake a breath showed his shock. He wanted to elaborate, or explain. He tried to speak, but Jack interrupted him.
"Don't justify anything to me," he said. "I don't want to hear it, honestly. I didn't want to deal with any of this. But someone has to, and you won't do it, so don't start. Just let me speak."
Booth was silent, so Jack continued. "When Ange and Zack were gone, do you remember how I looked everyday?"
"You looked sad," Booth said. "Lonely."
"Lonely," he repeated. "That's exactly what I was. I was lonely. I was angry, too, but mostly just sad and lonely. Did you know that the first person I talked to after me and Ange broke it off was Brennan? Did she tell you that?" Booth shook his head, no. "I didn't think so," Jack continued. "She saw me, said 'Whatever's wrong, I'm sorry. You are my friend, and I am here for you.'
"She brought me coffee in the morning, although I never said thank you. That's just the kind of person Dr. B is, y'know?"
"I, uh-"
"I told you to let me talk. It was a rhetorical question.
"So, you know, when she called me tonight, I answered. That's how we are. Ange is her best friend. But I was trapped under ground with her, for hours. That does something to you. Solidified her importance in my life. Because Dr. B, she's important. After Ange, she's next, man.
"Her and I, we've got a lot in common. But above all else, I was her friend before I was your friend, and she's the one who sat in that car for 24 hours beside me, and I've got to help her now, because no one else will."
Jack sighed, and Booth ran his hand over his face. He sat down on the couch, defeated.
"I'm not done," Jack said. "I met her about two hours ago. I've seen her upset. I saw her when she thought you were dead, okay? So, really in the two worst experiences of her life, I was the one who stood with her. It wasn't you. Not three years ago, and not tonight.
"We only saw her cry once, when you were dead. Well, I saw her really cry, but everyone just saw her wipe at her eyes. I saw her cry. And I'd rather see her the way she was you had died than see her like she was tonight."
"Is she okay?" Booth asked quickly.
"Not at all."
"I wish you'd chosen to just fight me," Booth said. "That seems as if it'd be easier."
"I wish I could, because shit man, you deserve it."
"What?" For the first time since Hodgins had been in Booth's apartment, Booth was kind of mad at him. "Because I told her I love Hannah?"
"Yeah man, you're an asshole."
"What the f-"
"I'm still not done, okay?"
"Fine," Booth huffed.
"Thank you," he said. " I met her at the Diner. She sat there and just stared at me. After a long time she just asked me how I did it-how I was able to just breathe when I saw Angela with Roxie and Wendell. I told her life felt like I wasn't breathing, not really. She told me she could understand that. She asked me not to say anything about our meeting to Ange, and then she cried for about ten minutes. Then she said thank you and left.
"Although Angela is my wife, Brennan asked me not to say anything, so when I get home I'm going to tell her it was for the case. I'm not going to tell Ange because Brennan asked me, and I could tell that she just needed me to promise. So I'm not going to say anything."
"Why are you telling me this," Booth asked after a long silence.
"Because I was in her shoes once. And she was there for me. And you, Booth, never are. Never, when it really counts. Because she'd rather be shot down or run over before she would ever want to feel the way she does.
"And I don't blame her."
"Don't you think I feel bad at it is? Don't you think that I feel like shit right now?"
"I don't care what you feel, to be honest Booth. I don't give a rat's ass."
"Doesn't it count for something?"
"You were warned. Cam warned you last year. If you didn't listen, then I don't really think me saying any of this will matter. But I owe it to Dr. B to at least try. God knows you didn't."
And with that, Jack was gone.