Standard disclaimer. I only wish...
Feels a little rough to me, but hey,what do I know? Besides, the subject matter isn't the most comfortable.
Jared was another alcoholic in the making--just like Dad, Seeley thought miserably, watching him reenter the restaurant. How did--how could I have missed it?
Even after nearly 30 years, he really wasn't sure how every time he covered for Jared he ended up on his dad's hit list. And outside of the family, little brother had a knack for easing his own way: slid through school without major exertion, made and stayed on the varsity team, got into the Naval Academy, and was duly promoted, and landed his current very prestigious position. And he managed to charm Bones on top of it all, filling her ears with crap! She's too trusting, sometimes. But I've never talked about my family, he realized. She must think all Booths are credible. It's the damn smile.
His attempt at lightening the mood failing, he groaned and went back to Jared's problems. He himself was no squint, but he had read up a bit on addiction when he realized he had his own problems. There had been a concept running through the literature--addictive personalities. Not entirely proven, if he remembered correctly, but it felt--right. It would explain a few things, Seeley mused to himself. Dad and Jared--alcohol, me--gambling. God--what about Parker? Now that was one of his bigger nightmares, that Parker would inherit this weakness from him.
And the worst of it was that there was nothing more he really could do for his brother. Only help Jared cover things up, slide out of trouble…and at his own expense. Be an enabler. Nothing had really changed since they were in school. Except the consequences. Dad's belt was a summer picnic next to the possibility of a DUI-related death. He rubbed his back distractedly.
But there was one thing he accepted as complete truth. "They" were right--change of that nature had to come from within. The senior Booth never did get to that point; Seeley had been determined to stop the gambling; Jared had to be ready to do the same with the drinking. He couldn't drag his little brother to an AA meeting when he didn't--wouldn't--couldn't admit there was a problem. Hell, after I scrubbed toilets in Vegas just so I could spend that tiny check at the craps table, and my clothes were too loose because I couldn't afford to eat right or buy new ones on a regular basis, I eventually realized something was wrong. And those pitying glances…ugh. I got out of Dodge as fast as I could once I saw it. I tried to get Frankie to come with me, but he always was so sure he'd tap the jackpot the next time. He blessed whoever had left that pamphlet for GA on the table, and prayed for them every Sunday, as well as Hank, who had helped him put it behind him. The lure of the dice only popped up a few times these days, not like the clawing pull it was in the beginning, when he had to avoid even arcades and lottery machines in convenience stores.
Booth punched the side of the bus shelter. From their talk, he could tell it would be a while--if ever--before Jared would be ready. I meant it, he swore. I'm not covering for him anymore. He screws up, he can take his lumps. But that's another I can't protect from themselves… And it hurt to admit that, too.
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And now he sat next to his partner, trying to eat cake. With unaccustomed sensitivity, she had asked if he need both space and time before she sat. Trying to make up for being influenced by Jared's BS, he guessed, but she was still soothing company. And he knew from experience that she would not judge him if he chose to speak. Nor would she pressure him for more. Which was probably why she knew so little about him, and why he knew so much more by comparison about her.
He took a deep breath. This was as hard as telling her about Raddick.
"My dad drank," he said, leaning forward.
He could feel her eyes on him. There was a faint clink of the dish being set aside, and then her unwounded hand came to rest gently, undemandingly, on his arm. Just like the time they sat in the cemetery, when he had shared another jagged piece of his past. And, like then, he found the same consolation in her simple touch.
For the record, I have never been through these programs, so if I have anything wrong, I hope you will forgive me.
