A/N: Everytime I try to write anything, all I ever end up with are post EitB tags. I'm going to try and get something going soon, maybe a collection of one shots, or some kind of un-finale-related multi chapter. But I don't know. Got any ideas?
There's a freeway runnin' through the yard
And I'm a bad boy cos I don't even miss her
I'm a bad boy for breakin' her heart
-Free Fallin', Tom Petty
She had this look on her face like maybe she had never been happier. That, you imagined, was what it must have been like before.
When you woke up, she had been there. When she had excused herself to go call "The Others", the nurse had told you she hadn't left over the past four days. You must be really important to her. That's why you felt so terrible. You kept apologizing, and she kept telling you it wasn't your fault. " Why would I, or anyone else, blame you for suffering from retrograde amnesia? That's not rational at all. It is obviously out of your control."
She seemed so lost. Although she tried to mask her fear and discomfort caused by the entire situation, you could tell. She may have looked more lost and confused than you did, which was saying a lot.
At first, she done everything that you had asked. She brought in photo albums, and case files. She called Rebecca and told her not to bring Parker by for a while -- just as he had asked her to. In the beginning, you could feel - at least for her - that this was the end.
She was hurting. She looked like she was losing weight (you could tell even though you couldn't remember what she looked like before). Her visits to the hospital became less frequent and less lengthily. She said she needed to work, but that she would still make the time to come by.
The week you were released, the Doctor wanted you to stay with someone for a few days, and she volunteered. You were actually surprised by that. You imagined it would have been Jared, although he hadn't been by yet. She later told you he was somewhere in India, and completely out of contact with the world.
She brought clothes and other arbitrary things over to your apartment for the week long visit. She had even booked those days off work. She offered to take you places, and you agreed . "Sounds good, maybe it'll jog something up there."
On the day she took you to the Jeffersonian, you met all the people that were supposed to be you friends, but you had no clue as to who the hell they were. One guy, the one with the funny hair, had a good sense of humour, and a really hot girlfriend. And an intern with blond hair, he seemed familiar to you, you wanted to say hockey, but you doubt you were right.
She gave you the tour, introduced you to her dad -- who you had apparently arrested... you wondered how twisted this relationship was. Then the two of you entered her office. The second you walked into the large office space, you knew it was important. Big things must have happened in there.
She sat behind her desk and asked you what you wanted to know. You spotted some odd figurines on a shelf, and thought that you remember those as well; why, or what they were, you had no idea. Then, there on the shelf were some books. Did they have her name on them? You asked.
"Yes, I wrote them; they were quite successful literary pieces." You asked if she was writing anything a the moment. "No, I told my publisher that I needed more time, a sabbatical like leave. I claimed writer's block." You asked if you could see them. She handed them over hesitantly, as if there was something important about what you were about to see.
You skimmed over the first one, then reached for the second one. As you opened the cover, you noticed she had her bottom lip between her teeth. You had noticed she did that either when she was worried, or when she was trying to get out of something-- trying to ditch a conversation.
That was when you saw it; she had dedicated it to you. You looked up to see her starring directly back at you. She had seemed distant ever since you had "met" her. You tried to speak, but nothing left your mouth.
She nodded and smile softly. "Yeah," she said. "I dedicated it to you."
You smiled back at her. "Did I ever thank you?" She shook her head no. "I should have. I should thank you now. For everything. You're so patient, and caring. I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you. I'm so sorry."
She bit her lip again, but this time, it was no cute nibble. It was an undeserved chomp; as if she was trying to keep herself together in the simple act. She started to cry, and it was the first time you had seen her show any true sign of loss.
You rounded the desk, and squatted down. "Oh God, I'm so sorry. Don't cry, Bones, I didn't mean to upset you. I'm just so grateful."
She looked up at you with shock written all over her face. "What did you just say?"
"That I'm grateful?"
She shook her head. "No, what did you just call me?"
You had to think about it for a second. Bones. You had called her Bones. Why? "I called you Bones. I don't know what that means. Sorry."
A soft laugh escaped her as she smiled and wiped her eyes. "Don't apologize," she had said, "You'll understand. One day, you will."
And a few months later, you awoke to your lonely apartment, and you remembered. You picked up your phone and dialled the number you suddenly didn't have a such hard time remembering.
"Brennan," she answered.
"Hey," you replied.
"Booth, what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. Absolutely nothing. Everything is prefect, Bones."
"Then why did you call?" she asked, obviously confused.
"Because everything is perfect."
She was silent for a minute. "Booth...? You're serious? Oh my God."
A smile spread across your face. "Bones, I'll be there in a minute."
"Don't you think I've waited long enough?"
Your smile widened. "Far too long, babe."
When you arrived at her apartment - which you knew exactly how to get to - she opened the door quickly and jumped into your arms.
She had this look on her face and you knew she had never been happier, like this is what it should have been like before.
FIN
