I've wanted to write this oneshot since the season finale. I was thinking "What ever happened in those hours before Booth actually died? How did she react when they were told (wrongly) that he died? What would Brennan do when faced with something that emotional?" And obviously since we all know Bones doesn't really do the whole emotional thing, I thought it would be something fun and challenging to write. When I read through this story, I also noticed that Booth rather sounds like a jerk, but hey, i'm just basing this off of what happened in the show, so blame the writers, not me. Thanks for reading and enjoy!
-
Dr. Temperance Brennan rubbed her eyes for the tenth time that minute. She had to will herself to stay awake even though she knew it would be impossible to sleep. There were too many things running through her mind. She knew he wasn't going to die, that was for certain. He would be wounded, but surely he wouldn't be killed by merely one bullet.
Killed. The six letter word vibrated through her mind, sending a shiver down her spine.
It was almost one thirty in the morning and she hadn't heard anything about Booth's condition in two hours.
She sighed quietly and sat back in the uncomfortable chair in the waiting room. She put her mind to work and once again tried to make some sense out of the night's events. Pam, the stalker, as Angela referred to her, or crazy, fat Pam as Hodgins and Zach referred to her, had shot Booth. She still didn't understand the motive; wasn't Pam obsessed with Booth? Stalkers typically follow their targets and occasionally send them things, but why try to kill them? Angela had seemed to understand it well enough. She had tried to explain it to her… something about Booth not seeing Pam and being focused on her singing… She didn't dwell on the subject. There had been so many things happening at once. The ambulance came and had taken him away. She had insisted on following when they wouldn't let her ride in the ambulance with him. That was, what, four hours ago? Five? She couldn't remember. Now they, herself, Angela, Hodgins, and Zach, were waiting in the ER for the doctor to tell them something new.
Brennan glanced at her best friend, sitting to the left of her, who was clearly worried. Hodgins was sitting next to Angela followed by Zach on the end. Angela looked back at her and barely managed a small, sad smile when they all heard raised voices beyond the clear glass doors that separated the hospital and the waiting room. She looked at Zach who had snapped his head up towards the doors.
"What is it?" she asked.
Zach shifted his gaze to his mentor.
"I heard him say 'Agent Booth'," he replied.
A tall man with graying hair and scrubs on pushed open one of the glass doors and stepped into the waiting room. He quickly walked around to where the four of them were sitting.
"Any news?" Hodgins said hopefully.
The three doctors and the artist all trained their eyes on the man in front of him. He said nothing.
"Oh…," Zach stated unusually quietly.
"No…,"Angela completed his sentence.
Brennan turned towards Angela with a confused look. She didn't understand why they were jumping to conclusions. Booth wasn't dead.
"What—" she began.
"Dr. Brennan."
She turned to the doctor standing in front of her. He looked directly into her slightly bloodshot blue eyes and said the words that made her understand.
"I'm sorry. We did everything we could…"
The realization struck her like a physical blow. She could immediately tell that he wasn't lying. She fought briefly with her mind trying to tell herself that it wasn't true, but logic won out in the end. It always did. She had to except the truth.
'Booth…'
Booth was dead.
Her grip tightened around the metal arm of the chair. She did not break eye contact with the doctor. Finally, she shifted her gaze to Angela, Hodgins, and Zach for a second and then stood up slowly. She could feel all of their eyes watching her.
"Thank you for trying," she said softly.
"The doctor seemed startled for a moment and then nodded.
"Of course."
And with a last glance at Angela, she quickly walked out of the depressing confines of the ER and into the shadows of the night.
As soon as she cleared the hospital doors she saw Parker and his mother walking through the parking lot towards her. Her heart fell even more than she thought possible, but she determinedly kept moving.
"Hi, Bones," Parker said and waved. No doubt he had heard Booth call her that.
She couldn't say anything for the fear that she would start crying as she went past him and half walked, half ran to her car. She pulled out her keys, automatically unlocked the doors, got in, and shut the door rather loudly.
She simply stared at the windshield for a minute, letting her brain absorb all of the information that was thrown at her. It was like realizing her mother was dead all over again, only worse, because Booth wasn't there to help her through it.
Suddenly, she let out a long shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and drew in another, attempting to force the tears back. She didn't know why. It was perfectly normal to cry when you lost someone close to you. It was a necessary part of grieving, a necessary part of accepting.
Well, maybe she didn't want to accept it.
-
Dr. White pushed open the door to Booth's room and stormed in.
"I still do not agree with you, Agent Booth," he said.
The FBI agent sat up in his hospital bed and winced at the pain it caused him.
"Did you look in her eyes?" he asked.
"Yes, yes, I did."
"And she believed you?"
"Yes."
He sighed.
"Good."
The doctor sat in one of the two chairs lined up against the wall near the right side of the bed and rubbed his eyes.
"It wasn't right," the gray haired man said.
"It's not like I wanted to. I have a chance to catch a criminal and I won't just let him get away," Booth protested. "And when I explain, I'm sure they'll all understand."
"In a few days?" Dr. White said dryly.
"Yes."
"A lot of damage can be done to one's emotions in the few days after the death of a loved one, Agent Booth. In fact, that is perhaps when the most damage is done."
Booth stared at the opposite wall from where he was sitting. He did feel bad that he had to lie, but it was all for the 'greater good' so to speak. Pretty soon everything would be back to normal. Well, as normal as it would ever be. A thought sprang to his mind and he quickly voiced it aloud.
"Did she cry?"
"Excuse me?" asked the tired doctor, seemingly coming out of his own thoughts.
"Dr. Brennan, did she cry?"
The doctor remained silent for a moment, appearing thoughtful. One might say there was a knowing look in his eye, but in a second it was gone. He lifted himself out of the chair and proceeded to the foot of the hospital bed and picked up the clipboard that was hanging there.
"No," he said as he flipped through some papers.
"See," Booth said as he tried to sit up further, "nothing to worry about then."
In all reality he was simply trying to get the doctor to go away. He hadn't thought that Bones would cry, she was emotionally stronger than that. At least he hoped so. But he suddenly wondered if she didn't cry because she didn't care, or if she was being tough.
The doorknob turned and a nurse poked her head into the room. She nodded at the doctor when he shifted his gaze to the door.
"Your son is here, Agent Booth," she said. "Should I send him in?"
"Yes, thank you," he replied, putting his worries aside for now.
The nurse nodded once more and closed the door.
"If you don't mind doctor, I'd like to tell my kid I'm not dead."
The doctor sighed as he returned the clipboard to its previous place. He shuffled to the door and opened it, but then he turned back to look at his patient.
"Dr. Brennan is strong, isn't she?"
Booth looked up at the question, a bit curiously, to meet the doctor's eyes once more.
"Yes… One of the strongest people I know," he replied.
He nodded.
"You know, Agent Booth," he began, "I've been working in this hospital for a long time. I've seen people completely break down or simply not care about a friend's death. She is the type of person who doesn't trust anyone, only accepts the facts. And in my opinion, those people have the worst reactions."
"And what is that?" Booth asked quietly.
"She ran away, Agent Booth. She didn't cry, which leads me to believe she didn't want to accept your death, and she looked genuinely devastated… which also leads me to believe that she cares about you more than you think."
He gave a small, sad smile and walked out the door, leaving a very confused Booth staring after him. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the pillow.
Strangely, he smiled a little.
"If that's true, then Bones is gonna kill me when she finds out I'm alive," he said to himself.
-
She rested her forehead on the steering wheel and tried simply to not think about anything. But there were too many things happening. Feelings of anger and sadness took hold of her and images and memories filled her mind.
She remembered everything.
All the stupid little arguments they used to have, how he would never let her have a gun until she finally gave up and bought her own, when he had stood up for her when she had been the main suspect for murder, dancing and air guitaring in her living room shortly before he had gotten blown up while opening her fridge, and helping her to get her father off on murder charges. She remembered being left on the altar with him after Angela and Hodgins ran away, having to see a psychologist because they had…issues, taking care of baby Andy, and lying on the ground shortly after he rescued her from being buried alive just smiling at each other.
But the most vivid one and her best of him was ironically when she had been kidnapped. Her kidnapper, an FBI agent actually, had been about to slam a gun to her head when he was shot and she turned to see Booth walk in, more limping actually, because he had been in the hospital from the explosion. He had went straight over to her, removed the gag from her mouth, and ducking his head under her tied hands, lifted her off the hook she was tied to. She remembered falling onto the floor and sitting there half crying and half laughing with her arms wrapped around him. He said, "It's okay. I'm here. It's over." It was only later that she realized that he had practically broken out of the hospital to rescue her, even though he was seriously injured. And just for that brief moment, in some abandoned warehouse, sitting on a cold cement floor, resting her head on her partner's shoulder, she felt so… happy… and grateful… and wanted.
Maybe even loved.
She couldn't count how many times he had helped her and he had saved her life. And now he had, once again, put his life in danger in order to protect her. Except this time it had cost him his life. She suddenly remembered Angela commenting once that he was a knight in shining armor.
Her knight in shining armor.
And finally, she cried.