Okay, this is something I've been working on. It will be a one-shot most likely, but I suppose I could be convinced to do Booth's POV on the whole thing. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: You guessed it. I don't own Bones.
This is slightly edited and reposted for the holiday season :)
"Temperance?" She looks up at him. "Please... please don't run away."
She doesn't know what to say. She's terrified. She can't handle this the way she handles everything else. It's different... it's different because it's Booth. Because she doesn't want to lose him.
But it feels like she just has.
She can see the worry in is eyes. He's acting as though he doesn't want to lose her, but can't he see that she's far more worried about losing him?
He's going to leave. As friends, she trusted him; cared about him. As something more... she certain it won't last. Maybe there's something about her that just forces the people she's emotionally attached to, on a deeper level, to leave... to not want her anymore. She can't face him telling her they should move on. She can't face watching him walk away like her parents... her brother... Sully...
She runs.
Even though she knows it will hurt him... it will prevent the pain from becoming worse. If they have the chance to form more memories... then she'll never be able to look back at the past four years and smile. Already it's becoming hard to do that.
She runs from her life at the Jeffersonian and from the family she's built there. She flees the apartment where they ate so much Thai food at midnight... just enjoying each other's presence.
... She runs from the one thing that ever truly scared her and remained always as a shadow of doubt and misunderstanding in the back of her mind.
She runs from love.
December 24th, 2009
A lone woman stands in front of a small diner. Her auburn hair is long and straight, and she wears a grey hat and a purple scarf. Her hands are buried in the deep pockets of her long black coat.
Her skin is tanned, as though she had been in the sun a lot recently. She doesn't seem to belong in the wintery town, among the bustling crowds and the snowdrifts. She is lost so deep in thought that the traffic, which clearly is a strange sound to her ears, doesn't appear to bother her much anymore.
The lights from the tree in the window reflect like individual sparkling stars in her brilliant blue eyes.
Happy couples and laughing children stroll past on the sidewalk behind her. The echoes of Christmas carols ring in the air. She sees the reflections of all the smiling people in the glass, but she focuses only on the tree.
Just Russ and Dad. Just them... she reminds herself carefully. She cannot go to the Jeffersonian. She cannot even call.
She was trying to save herself, and him, from pain... so why does this hurt almost as much as it had when Sully had sailed away? The pain is supposed to have dulled over time. Her compartmentalization and her careful work-only focus are supposed to have helped her move on quickly and efficiently.
Why is it that they have failed her now?
She sighs.
Can she really stay away forever, when she feels this way? When there is this dull ache always present in her chest... when every small blonde boy reminds her of one adorable child in particular and every teasing remark she hears in passing reminds her of a certain FBI agent?
A light snow begins to fall, and she looks to the sky as if for an answer she knows she will not be receiving.
If she goes back... If... would he even care?
He must have felt as though she hated him after she vanished without a word... and perhaps he'd even checked with the FBI to see where she had gone. He hadn't followed her; he hadn't shown up one day at her dig site in Guatemala and begged her to come home.
And now, so many months later, he's probably moved on... gotten a new blonde lawyer of a girlfriend... She can't just walk in on that, try to make things the way they had been. She can't ruin everything for him when she's already done it once.
She must stay away.
Her heart beats painfully in her chest, and she fights to ignore it. Every step she takes is agonizing, but she turns away from the diner and heads back up the street, vanishing as though she was never there. Her footprints in the sidewalk disappear under the falling snowflakes.
She is gone, and like those footprints, she is certain she won't be missed.
Inside the diner, a man stares at the same tree from the opposite side. A small boy stands at his side, staring up at him with the chocolate brown eyes that were passed on to him. But the man doesn't notice anything but the tree, his eyes focused on it with a faraway look. The lights reflect in his eyes and make them sparkle so that it appears as though perhaps the emotion behind them has built into barely discernable, but definitely present, tears.
December 25th, 2010
A woman sits alone in a corner of a small diner. She does not order, and yet no one makes her leave. They remember her from a few years ago, when she was a regular. The staff murmurs to themselves back in the kitchen, trying to figure out what happened. After all, they see the man all the time still.
He's the one who orders just one piece of pie and sits alone for an hour just eating it. He often stays for longer once he's done. No one ever makes him leave either.
The woman's auburn hair is cropped short now, barely reaching her shoulders. Her skin is pale rather than tanned, and slightly unhealthy looking. She doesn't appear to have eaten enough recently, and yet she hardly touches the plate of food she has, for once, ordered. Her lips are pursed, and she jumps slightly every time the door opens, her eyes flying immediately to it.
The waitresses can't decide if she's looks more relieved or disappointed each time she sees it is not who she clearly is expecting.
She stands out in the bustling diner full of happy older couples and families with small children. Cheery Christmas music seems to have no effect whatsoever on her... In fact, it seems to make her all the more sad every time a new song comes on.
And whenever her eyes stray to the Christmas tree near the opposite window her eyes cloud with so much agony that the waitresses stay away. She looks lost and afraid, like a small animal that has found itself all alone in the world. A few friendly people attempt to cheer her up in passing, but she is so cold and distant that they hurry away quickly.
She wants to ask anyone if he still comes here, but she cannot find her voice to speak the words. She cannot say his name aloud. She stays silent, as always. This year she didn't even come to visit her family... either one, that is. She came solely to sit here.
She hardly even remembers making the decision to come, or even getting on the plane, for that matter. All she knows is that she is here now, and she feels more alone than ever. Never again can she fit in here, or anywhere. Never again can she speak to someone and just tell what's on her mind. Never again... can she trust... can she love...
But he has moved on, by now. And he has not contacted her.
He has moved on.
He has moved on.
She must stay away...
She pays the bill and quietly leaves. She never speaks a single word.
The bell above the door rings as a man in his mid-thirties walks in. He looks around half-heartedly, and then sighs. He takes a seat in the booth in the far corner. He drops his head into his hands and just stays like that.
He is alone; his son is not with him for Christmas. He does not even order pie; he would never enjoy it. Not today.
Not that he ever enjoys it anymore. It just helps him get through the day... helps him remember so that he does not fall completely apart.
His head snaps up as he swears he senses her presence. Something... maybe the sweet smell that seems to linger in the air... but then again everything reminds him of what he has lost. Nothing in his world was untouched by her.
And yet he cannot leave it behind, because that would be worse.
He cannot do anything.
And so he continues to wait, even though the pain has never gone... has only increased. The Christmas tree in the corner sparkles cheerfully, but it only makes his vision blur, and he doesn't even bother to blink away the moisture that builds up there.
December 23rd, 2011
A strand of auburn hair falls in her eyes, and she doesn't bother to brush it away. Her hands stay around the untouched coffee cup that sits on the table. It's only purpose seems to be to warm her cold hands.
She has been there in the diner, for hours on end, every day this week.
It is becoming increasingly harder to stay away, especially this time of year. For some strange reason the Christmas season seems to make her remember him even more, and with even more pain at every flash of recognition and every memory that flies to her mind.
She can see his face right now, at this very moment before her, and it is all she can focus on. His smile is gentle and caring. She sees the love behind it now. She sees how much he cared, long before he ever told her.
She bows her head, and more of her soft hair falls in front of her face, covering it from view. She lost him. She lost him because she couldn't face the truth... because she couldn't take one risk. And now she will never get that chance.
How can she go to him, three years later, and expect him to still feel the same? How can she do that to him? Not after all the pain she's already inflicted with her stupidity.
And he was the one person, the only one, who would ever truly look past that, her social inabilities. He could always see what she meant, even when it came out so very wrong. He could always comfort her in the worst of situations, even when she'd been so sure that she hadn't shown any distress on the outside. He'd just... known.
She'd been the complete opposite... he'd given all the signs... and she hadn't seen a single one. And then she'd left him, the one who cared. The one who loved her.
The only one who ever loved her. Truly, that is, so that even she can now see it.
He's the only one she's ever trusted.
What have I done? She thinks for what must be the millionth time.
She shakes her head. She had run; she'd made that choice. Very carefully, she places the money for the coffee on the table and stands. She steps through the door into the freezing cold, and contemplates returning to Canada, to her new lab there, but she can't seem to make herself leave. That is not home, and even though she has pushed everything here away from herself, she still feels as though this is where she was loved, that this was where she should be at home.
She cannot be, of course, but she can wish.
She heads back to her apartment... she keeps it rented out even though she no longer lives there. Moving her stuff out would have involved him knowing she was taking off; the last thing she had wanted in her hasty flight all that time ago.
It is familiar, in the way that opening the pages of a long-ago read and well-loved book would be. It is like flipping the pages and reading small tidbits as she walks around, observing the place. It is as though she has never left... if she was to dust off the bookshelves it may even appear as though she has been inhabiting the place for the entirety of the three years that it was vacant.
And she never wants to leave.
She sits on the edge of her couch for a long time, barely noticing as the hands of the clock turn and the darkness outside becomes more apparent. It is midnight, she notes vaguely, and her eyes turn subconsciously towards the door, as if expecting there to be a knock, and a familiar face to be waiting on the other side holding up take-out Thai food with a cocky grin planted across his face.
That does not happen.
She eventually falls asleep, never leaving the couch.
The following morning she awakens late, and she blinks open her eyes in confusion, taking in her surroundings.
Oh God, Angela is going to tear me apart with questions... she'll think I'm late because I've been with some guy. And Booth will be here any minute freaking out and thinking I've been kidnapped because I left my cell phone off and I'm not at the Jeffersonian...
Then her eyes open wider and she cuts the thought off immediately.
She bites her lip and tries to stay calm as the wave of agony and sorrow washes over her with stunning intensity.
That isn't her life anymore; she is forced to face the fact. Being here had brought her back to then, had made her truly believe for a few glorious seconds that everything was the way it had been. But it isn't. Not anymore.
She considers leaving, heading back out of the country, away from DC. And staying away. Trying harder than ever to not feel the ache in her heart... But she knows that it will be pointless.
She will stay for a few more days... at least through Christmas. Maybe she will convince herself of something in that time.
Her heart, the heart that he taught her to 'put in overdrive', is beating hopefully, begging her to just try, to just give into the pain and go see him, go see Ange, go see everyone. Maybe then... maybe then the pain will go away. Maybe she will feel hope again.
Maybe she will feel love.
She let's herself hope, sighing as she gives up fighting against it.
Then she steps towards the computer that she left behind; she signs on to the email account she has not been on in all that time.
There is one message. Only one.
I'll wait. No matter how long.
The words burn into her mind painfully. Surely he can't have waited, surely this message, sent shortly after she left, no longer applies to the current conditions.
But still the hope spreads, like a forest fire catching hold of more and more trees as it consumes everything around it.
She thinks, briefly, about sending an email in response, but instead she closes out the internet and shuts the computer back down. She changes and leaves the apartment again, pausing in the door and staring back, the way that she did on that day. But this time she knows she will be back. She will return here tonight, certainly.
It is the only thing about today she can promise herself. Everything else is shrouded in doubt. She doesn't even know where she is going until she ends up back at the diner.
He isn't there, which does not surprise her but hurts nonetheless. She stays there, in the same booth in the corner, practically all day. She orders coffee continuously, and on a whim even buys herself a piece of pie, which she actually eats, much to her own surprise. It isn't so bad, but maybe that's only because it reminds her of him and all the happy times they sat with a plate like this on the table.
She's missed the pie. She's missed him...
With all the happier memories there is a warmer glow about her, and a soft smile on her lips as she traces a finger along the edge of the coffee cup. The waitress notices, but does not comment.
She surprises herself once again by speaking up when the young woman comes back.
"Do you remember me at all?" she asks cautiously. Her voice is a bit scratchy... she hasn't used it at all in the past day.
The waitress nearly drops the coffee she's holding, spluttering in shock. The silent woman has a voice...
She nods, "You came here last year," she responds nervously.
"Is there..." she clears her throat and forces the words out, "Do you remember... before that? Who I used to come here with?"
The woman nods warily.
A brief flare of hope fills her. "Does he... still come here?"
"Yes... practically every day. You just missed him last year actually."
Her eyes widen. She'd come so close to seeing him a year ago... she can't tell if she's more relieved or disappointed that she had avoided the encounter back then. Probably disappointed, given the way she feels now. The regret that's building up.
"Thank you," she responds calmly.
The waitress nods, still looking shocked and a bit overwhelmed. She practically runs back to the kitchen, and from the table she hears just the start of the woman's outburst.
"You're never going to believe this! She actually-" The door to the back shut firmly.
Her auburn hair falls in her eyes again, and she just stays like that for a very long time, almost giving up hope that he will come. She's been there all morning, and there's still no sign of him. The tree in the corner twinkles at her. Christmas music plays in the background.
Her eyes are only for the cup of coffee. Focusing on the door makes her far too anxious.
The bell above it rings. She does not look up. An old man shuffles in and sits at the booth behind her silently. A waitress serves him coffee, glancing curiously at her as she does so. She ignores it and sips from her own cup.
The door opens again, and a cold breeze filters in.
She looks up; she cannot help it. Maybe she knew it, the moment that door opened, who it would be. Or maybe she was just desperate to know who was walking in. Either way, she freezes.
He looks tired, and his gaze first goes to the tree. His usually soft brown eyes are hard and dark. A sigh escapes him.
In the corner, she cannot move. She cannot do anything... except wait. Any second he will notice her. He will see that she is there, that she is back. And he will react.
It is of this that she is terrified. What will he say? What will he do? Will he turn and walk back out? Will he accuse her? Will he yell?
She would deserve all of that, but she is still afraid. She cannot bear to see him look at her with hatred in those eyes.
But when his eyes slide to the booth that she is in there is no recognition at all, only a slight irritation; this is the booth he must usually sit at. It must be. Under other circumstances, she might pause to see the irony of that, but she cannot at the moment.
He takes only two steps in the other direction before he freezes, before he stops dead in the middle of the diner. His head flies back towards her, and she carefully trains her gaze on the coffee again. She doesn't know what he is going to do... she pretends to not notice that he has entered.
She watches from the corner of her eye anxiously. He stares for a long time, and then he very cautiously, very slowly, turns back and walks with deliberate steps, one at a time, until he stops a few feet from where she sits. She tenses up, biting her lip. It is impossibly hard to keep her gaze on the cup, to keep it from swinging to him, but she does it.
He opens his mouth but does not speak; he seems to be at a loss for words.
How he addresses her will tell her how he feels.
Dr. Temperance Brennan... it would be like a stab to her heart.
Temperance... it would be as though he were trying to be polite.
And then the last thing he could possibly call her... she cannot make herself think it. The nickname that follows her wherever she goes because it is also what she works with every day... the nickname that she has not been called in three years.
It is one of the things she misses most of all.
"Bones?" his voice is strained, disbelieving.
Her face turns immediately to him, her eyes fearful and wide.
He is almost exactly as she remembers, except that he is clearly tired... he hasn't been getting much sleep, she notes. And his eyes are dull. But a soft spark seems to light in them as she meets his gaze.
"You're back," he whispers painfully.
She nods, biting her lip again.
"Are you... are you staying?" She must be imagining the hope she hears in his tone... as though he wants her to stay. He cannot want that though, not after all this time.
"I don't know," she murmurs softly.
His eyes cloud with pain when she speaks, and she nervously looks away. She was right; she can only cause him pain.
And then a gentle hand is on her chin, turning her face back to him. He has knelt down next to her table, so they are face to face. The touch of his skin against hers sends a shiver through her.
"Why'd you come back?" he asks gently.
"Because... because I couldn't stay away," she says, her voice barely even a whisper.
"You did a pretty good job for these past few years," he reminds her; his voice has a slightly harsh edge to it that she can tell is righteous anger. She flinches.
"I know."
He slides into the seat across from her and waits. Maybe he's hoping that she will speak first. She complies hesitantly.
"I'm sorry," she says, looking away again. "I'm... really sorry."
He is still silent; his eyes soft... the way she remembers them. A soft smile comes to his lips and hope flares up within her once more.
"I never should have left," she tells him, begging him with her eyes to understand. "And I... I shouldn't have come back either. I'm sorry, I should have stayed away... I wanted you to move on, and I wanted to let you have your life... I-"
"Shh," he hushes her gently. "You're back. Don't regret that."
There are a few tears in her eyes. He reaches out to gently brush them away. No, he can't possibly still care. It's... it's not right for her to get him back after what she's done...
"I don't... I don't deserve this. I hurt you, I hurt everyone!" She starts to stand and he quickly follows. She runs out the doors and he catches up outside on the snow-coated sidewalk.
"Don't even think of leaving again," he tells her, turning her towards him with a gentle pull on her arm. "Not now that I've got you again."
"No," she tells him, pulling her arm from his grasp. This is... this is too much.
"It's okay, Bones, it's okay. I'm still here... I told you I'd wait."
"For three years? You waited for me; wasted so much of your life? Look what I did to you! Look how I ruined your life!"
"You were the best part of my life; I wasn't going to forget that!"
Her breath catches in her throat and she stares at him in painful shock.
"Bones, what I told you back then... I meant every word."
"What?" she asks in bewilderment.
"I love you," he repeats cautiously, waiting for her reaction.
"That.. that doesn't make... it can't..."
"I always have, Bones. You're the most important thing to me. Please believe that."
"I.. I don't..."
There is silence for a long moment. She does not know what to say to it. Her mind is spinning.
"Temperance?" she looks up at him. "Please... please don't run away."
She hesitates before responding. "You waited..." she whispers more to herself than to anything else.
He nods carefully. "I gave you time, Bones. I wanted you to come back... more than anything. I almost gave up... but here you are. Please... please don't leave again."
She looks at him, decision forming in her brilliant blue eyes. "I can't leave again," she whispers, "Not now that I've seen you again. But... I'll leave whenever you want me too. After what I did-"
"Hush," he says, pressing a finger to her lips. "Bones, I love you. Three years... three years is nothing... so long as I have you in the end."
She shakes her head in disbelief. "Booth, that makes no rational sense."
A huge grin covers his face, "God, I missed you," he sighs.
She smiles back, and it's the first genuine smile she's given anyone in all those years.
He reaches out hesitantly and then puts an arm around her gently.
They walk up the street together as the gentle snowflakes drift past. Their feet leave a trail of prints behind in the snow, interwoven in each other so that the difference is barely discernable.
And although the footsteps may be wiped away, and they may never be missed... the two people walking together can never be wiped away... can never leave each others' hearts. And if one is not with the other, then they would most definitely be missed... and they would never stop waiting until they would be together once more.
Okay, yes, it's a bit OOC but it was begging to be written, and I had fun with it. Let me know what you think!
Merry Christmas Everyone!!