Eighty years an old lady now, sitting on the front porch watching the clouds roll by. They remind her of her lover, and how he left her, and of times long ago. When she used to color carelessly, painted his portrait. A thousand times- or maybe just his smile- and she and her canvas would follow him wherever he would go. 'Cause they were painters and they were painting themselves a lovely world.
It was strange, life. Looking back on it and every memory held over the years Angela reminisced to herself as she sat on her large front porch that over looked a vineyard. She thought how Bren had been right all those years ago, ephemeral - meaning short lived. While some relationships in Angela's past, okay quite a few, relationships had been ephemeral. Time was the most ephemeral of all things. Bren and Booth had finally married two years ago. It was more at the prodding of their kids and grand kids than for their own reason; they both gave up on that fight long ago. Angela and Jack had three kids; she smiled wistfully at the memory of their births, their creation, of their father. Everyone had grown up so very fast. Wasn't it just yesterday that she had Michael, that Bren told her she was pregnant and weren't Booth and Bren still denying that they loved each other? She chuckled lightly, nostalgia of long ago yesterdays swept over her and she flash backed to Booth, Bren and she and Hodgins kids playing hide and seek in the vineyard. While they watched from the very porch she sat on. She smiled again remembering how Booth used to call the kids 'The Children of The Corn' and how Bren argued that their children were not corn but human beings, she finally understood once the King movie was explained to her.
Oil streaked daises covered the living room wall; he put water color roses in her hair. He said, "Love, I want to love you, I want to give you the mountains the sunshine the sunset too. I want to give you everything as beautiful as you are to me."
Angela inhaled the cool fresh outdoors air; it was windy out and there was a nice breeze . She closed her eyes to yesterdays, a smile tug at the edge of her lips as she remembered when she and Hodgins found out they were pregnant with twins a year after she had Michael. A boy and a girl. She remembered Hodgins brought flowers to work for her and she would put them in her office, she loved them - she loved him. She would walk around the lab with daises in her hair and that made for some light hearted jokes around the lab. Angela had returned to her roots, she looked like a hippie with the flowers in her dark hair everyday. Roses always made her office smell wonderful, life was good. They had, had a good life. Walks to the diner with Bren as they left their guys back at the Jeffersonian and Bureau made for girl talk. Oh the diner...it was the place where she told Bren she was pregnant with Michael and again with the twins. The waitress' and waiters had come to know them over the years. She smiled at all the lessons she had learned over the years, and the most important lesson; to cherish the years.
One day Hodgins brought a vase full of roses that was gorgeous into her office and Angela knew she had to make a painting of it, that, or a sketch. She wasn't sure which, only that is was too beautiful too let wilt and eventually die, forgotten. Her art would make the roses and beautiful vase last forever; it ended up an oil painting that hung on the wall of their home. She chuckled softly remembering all of her old worries, and seeing them in her own little girl when she and her husband had their first child. Everything seemed so minuscule now, her life was, now more than ever like a Bob Marley song. Over the years she and even Bren had learned to take things with a grain of salt, well Bren said she didn't remember eating any salt and they eventually agreed they had learned to adjust. Kids and husbands do that to you; one learns to play everything by ear, go with the flow or you just go crazy in need of a break of it all. The rambunctious kids definitely would have broken the beautiful vase Hodgins gave her years ago if it was not an oil painting on the wall.
'Cause they were painters and they were painting themselves a lovely world. So they sat down and made a drawing of their love, an art to live by. They painted every passion, every home, created every beautiful child. In winter they were weavers of warmth, in summer they were carpenters of love they thought blue prints were too sad so they made them yellow.
Eyes closed, lost in a world of nostalgia she inahaled again. Though, it was a lovely world, a home filled with photos and paintings of Booth and Bren and she and Hodgins' kids side by side playing. She loved a particular photo of Abby and Chrissy, Chrissy was six and Abby three. They were covered in chicken pox smiling because they had just painted medication on each other's sores to stop the itching. Only Angela had mixed the medication with food coloring so as far as they knew they were just painting each other. Another favorite was a photo she had made into a painting of all six of the kids covered in mud splashing in puddles after a bad storm. Big white smiles and some smiles with missing teeth as well as tongues sticking out at the camera always made her smile, especially because of the mud that coated their faces. They really had always been one big family, their kids even grew up together. Chrissy and Matt made Abby and Dave their children's Godparents just like Angela and Bren they had grown up best friends. Angela smiled looking out at the vineyard, what a beautiful life they created. They were one big family, and it showed.
'Cause they were painters and they were painting themselves a lovely world. Until one day the rain fell as thick as black oil and in her heart she knew something was wrong. She went running through the orchards, "No God, don't take him from me!" but by the time she got there, she feared he had already gone.
Angela inahled and exhaled a deep breath, remembering a particular day and it's painstaking events. It was raining outside, pouring to be exact. She felt something was wrong but couldn't place it. At the time they had just moved to the Vineyard in West Virgina. Jack felt it was time to get out of D.C, especially with Michael now two and the twins nine months. Suddenly, just like that she knew, knew the horrid gut feeling she had was right. The kids inside, she took off racing through the vineyard in the pouring rain and by the time she got to him he was barely hanging on. The snakes poison already ebbed it's way to his heart, his pulse rate was so slow, so slow. In his hand he held roses for her, they were scattered on the ground now. The were the last roses he would pick for her, no more daisies would weave their way through her hair by his hand.
Devastated she became infuriated with the Lord for taking him and mad at Hodgins for dying and leaving her. She had nothing left but the portraits, paintings and their children; they were so young. The twins had just turned nine months and Michael was only two. He needed his father! Why! This can't be happening, but it was and she lay over his body in the pouring rain as he slipped away.
She got to where he lay, water- colored roses in his hand for her, she threw them down screaming, "Damn you man, don't leave me with nothing left behind but these cold paintings, these cold portraits to remind me!"
"Hodgins! Jack! Don't leave me! You can't, I can't raise these children and build this life without you! Jack! Don't you do it!" Angela screamed, tears falling down her face mixing with the rain, while she lay over his body in the middle of the vineyard.
"Ange...?" Hodgins' voice was a hoarse whisper, but it was there. She picked her head up as she lay on his chest and looked into his baby blues.
"Hhmm? Jack? Hodgins! What? What is it?" She said frantic.
He said, "Love I leave, but only a little try to understand, I put my soul in this life we created with these four hands. Love, I leave but only a little, this world holds me still. My body mady die now, but these paintings are real."
"Ange...? Baby, I can't stay I know, but remember I put my soul in the life we created with these four hands. The kids will be okay, call Booth and Bren...you will be okay. My body may die now, but these paintings, these portraits you've created they will live on. Tell Michael, Abby and Jack I love them and...and..." Hodgins breathing became heavy and shallow and Angela knew it was nearing time for him to go.
Angela inhaled and exhaled another deep breath, she would and could never forget that day. She still lived in the same house with the vineyard and large front porch. Booth and a seven month pregnant Bren bought a place within walking distance from hers not long after Hodgins passed. A couple months later Booth and Bren's youngest, Ella was born. Angela remembered watching all five kids in the waiting room of the hospital, she chuckled lightly at that memory. Once older Chrissy, Ella and Trevor played for hours on end with Michael, Jack and Abby. The three boys and three girls. It was strange how life worked out the way it did, such joy and such pain. Angela learned you really don't ever know what you are going to get but you better be thankful for what you do receive.
Eyes closed she could see it if she tried hard enough. Picture their children playing in the vineyard as they grew up. Parker would visit as well and join in on the countless games of hide and seek, pirates, Indians, jungle animals, or marco polo - out of the pool- that was a Chrissy idea and always made Bren smile. Angela's kids never did know where Hodgin's died, none of the seven children did. Angela had only showed Booth and Bren where she found him. Well, until Chrissy overheard Angela one day and opened her mouth to the rest of the kids. Booth and Angela used to joke with each other that when God handed out filters, Chrissy like her mother, had forgot to pick one up.
While, Chrissy's bit of information halted games in the vineyard for a bit. Just like everything else, with time, the kids returned to playing in the vineyard. Angela encouraged the kids to play in the vineyard, the laughter of children in the air was a lovely sound. While Hodgins had been bit by a snake and killed in the vineyard, life was full of choices and she believed that one should live every moment to it's fullest. Just because he was bit, didn't mean the kids were going to be bit.
Plus, they now had a Jack Russel terrier and a hound labador cross that never left the kids sides. 'Meatloaf' the lab cross, which Jack, Michael and Trevor insisted on naming barked at anything out of the ordinary always protective of the children and Angela. The terrier Jazlynn or 'Jazzie' which the girls named had killed harmless garden snakes on more than one occasion. It made Angela feel safe having Meatloaf and Jazzie around. She looked down to the side of the old wooden rocking chair where Meatloaf use to lay. She smiled reminiscing of the old hound cross, he was a good dog.
So many seasons came, and many seasons went. And many times she saw her love's face watering the flowers, talking to the trees and singing to his children. And when the wind blew, she knew he was listening, and how he seemed to laugh along, and how he seemed to hold her when she was crying.
Angela missed Jack; she didn't really talk to Bren about it, ever. She never really spoke to anyone but to be honest, she spoke to him. She would talk to Hodgins when she watered the flowers in the yard, when she sang to her children, or when she strolled through the vineyard late at night when the kids had gone to bed. Sometimes under the full moon she would take a stroll down to the creek at the edge of their property, and she would feel him next to her when the wind blew. Yes, when a gentle breeze caressed her cheek ever so lightly and softly, she knew it was him. That he was listening as she sang to the vineyard trees in the light of the full moon. Once she reached the creek she would sit on their favorite rock; it had been colored carelessly on once upon a time. It was stained with splashes of color and she sometimes would lay on it as she listened to the waters gentle flow, remembering.
Remember when she laughed loudly and brought her canvas down to the water's edge. How he tried to paint a nude oil painting of her in the sun, they disregarded the paintbrushes and canvas to make love instead. She looked at the nude color drips of paint on the rock and smiled at the memory. She remembered another time when she told him to take dirt and smudge it on the canvas, like charcoal. That particular sketch hung in their home. Now as she sat and watched the river flow under the pale moonlight she told him about Michael, Abby and Jack. Told him of how Abby and Chrissy, despite their polar opposite personalities were bestfriends and how they reminded her of she and Bren years ago. How Michael and Ella; Booth's youngest girl and their oldest son married. How his little girl Abby was now married as were Bren and Booth's kids. Hell, even Booth and Bren were now married.
She inhaled and exhaled, eyes closed in the old wooden rocking chair. A smooth light faded spot on the floor to her left where one could tell Meatloaf used to lay often. Easel in front of her, drops of paint stained the porch around the old wooden chair and easel. It was her painting spot, the kids knew it even the Grand kids. she remembered when Meatloaf knocked over a can of paint in little Jacks room while she and the girls were touching it up, a new color. The brown dog had turned brown and blue, she smiled at the memory. The breeze was strong; a thunderstorm on it's way. Though, she just sits eyes closed thinking of times long ago. How she used to color carelessly- a free spirit with no worries.
'Cause they were painters and they were painting themselves a lovely world. Eighty years, an old lady now sitting on the front porch watching the clouds roll by, they remind her of her lover and how he left her and of times long ago, when she used color carelessly, painted his portrait a thousand times or maybe just his smile.
She closed her eyes and her paintbrush became languid in her grip falling from her hand to the floor. She inhaled, exhaling softly she finished the painting. The rain let up and the clouds rolled away as Angela let her thoughts take her to another world. One that had been been painted just like she liked, beautiful. Lightning struck the vineyard setting a tree on fire, but Angela never knew it. Quietly with a smile on her face she slipped away, leaving this world and heading out with the stormy water colored clouds. A man named Michael and his wife Ella saw the smoke. They came to check on Angela, grand kids Austin and Pearl after Angela's middle name in tow. Angela hated the middle name pearly gates, but approved of Pearl-go figure thought Ella and Michael, but that was Angela. Mikey and Ella were always home bodies and never did move far from the vineyard. The fire was now out the rain had put it out, but Michael called the fire department anyway and told the kids to stay away from the scorched and smoking tree.
It was ironic thought Ella how their kids were able to play in the same vineyard Michael, she and their brothers and sisters had. Hodgins had died in that vineyard, and they had grown up in it as had Booth and Brennan's kids and grand kids. Ella walked over to Angela and called to her Auntie, but recieved no response.
"Michael?"
"Hhmm?"
"Look." Ella said pointing to the canvas her Auntie had been working on since they were kids, the last painting she would ever paint. Michael came to see what had Ella a bit misty eyed, it was the vineyard. Full of children, upon closer inspection one could tell the children were Booth and Bren's kids playing along with Parker and Michael's brother and sister, even the grandchildren were in the painting. Ella leaned close to the painting to see what her Auntie Angela had named it. "She called it Full Circle." Ella pointed out and Michael smiled, both he and Ella's eyes were more then mist now. A single hot tear ran down Michael's cheek and Ella took his hand.
"A families full circle." Michael said, "My dad died in the vineyard, we grew up in it-lived in it as kids and now our kids do too. Heck, Auntie Bren went into labor with you right over there." Michael turned and pointed to a particular spot in the vineyard and Ella smiled. Then Michael picked his mother up and carried her into her bedroom and laid her down, the ambulance was on it's way.
"Do you remember when Meatloaf broke his leg and your mom almost was happy to work again? At least that's what your dad always said, he thought everytime one of us broke a bone she seemed in her element again." Michael recalled.
"Yes. Do you remember when Abby and Chrissy decided they were going to dig to China and your dad made them fill in that huge hole they dug?" Ella asked softly, a hint of laughter in her voice.
"Yeah, Oh wow. How could I forget? Trevor, Jack and I had to help them out of the thing." Michael said and they both chuckled.
Both kids, now adults, stand over her bed their hands intertwined in each other's, tear drops falling slowly as they reminisced of their childhood.
Ella could hear Austin and Pearl's laughter echoing throughout the vineyard and into the house. Ella looked around Angela's room at all of the paintings of her Auntie, Booth, Brennan, brother, sisters and Michael's brothers and sister and she herself. Then she couldn't help it, she laughed lightly crying at the same time. "God Michael, I wish he could have seen the house she turned into a home. I really wish I could have met him."
Michael knew Ella was speaking of his father. "Me too babe, me too." Michael said as children's footsteps were heard racing through the home once more. From the other room Austin and Pearl shouted that an ambulance was here but it didn't have it's lights on. Ella left Michael to go and meet the paramedics and keep Austin and Pearl out of the way, they would want answers. They were kids and Brennan's grandkids as well, curiosity was in their genes.
"Mom, where is Grandma?" Austin asked more curious then Pearl who was a bit more feisty.
Ella thought about it, "She is looking down on us from the biggest canvas there is now."
"Is Grandma in heaven?" asked Pearl with all the innocennce and gentle emotion of a child.
Ella shook her head yes and Austin asked, "Does that mean she is with Grandpa Hodgins now?"
They recieved another nod yes from Ella and Austin looked at Pearl then to his mother. His big brown eyes reminded Ella of her father and half-brother, Parker. Ella smile a sad smile as Austin tried to comfort his mother with a hug. "She is happier now mommy."
"She is Austin." Ella said.
"Come here I want to show you two something." Ella said and brought the kids to the porch where the painting of the vineyard still sat on the easel. Ella hadn't noticed until now, but Meatloaf and Jazzie were even in the painting. She knew everyone was going to want a copy and prints were going to have to be made. She smiled just now noticing the tree that the lightning had struck was the tree Chrissy had told everyone that Auntie Angela found Uncle Jack under. It was a Full Circle indeed.
And she and her canvas would follow him wherever he would go. Yes, she and her canvas still follow. Because they are painters and they are painting themselves, a lovely world.
Painters by the artist Jewel. First Angela and Hodgins fic hope it wasn't too bad.