Thank You!~ Krimz and Charliewise (for reviewing me ;-)
Thank You!~ Kittychinchillakat and ohgirl14 (for fave-ing me ;-)
Thank You!~ Charliewise, JumbledIdeas, Krimz, kristylee84, lorifer, LukeNlorelaifan, millerdobey, Pegboard, penguins4869, and SmallTuna (for putting me on your alets ;-)
I appreciate all of it, thank you!
Notes: This chapter proved hard for me to write these past couple of days. Don't know why exactly. I guess it's because I have so many big plans later, I'm kinda anxious to get there. lol The centered words are the chorus for the song, "Airplanes," by B.o.B. featuring Haley Williams from Paramore. Great song, check it out. It was basically the anthem for this chapter. Especially that chorus. So yeah. Krimz don't worry, this story is angst central. And I completely agree with you. ;-)
Warnings: Same as before. Lots of angst, referances to chlid abuse, language, eventual violence
(nothing you wouldn't already see on the show)
Words: 3,700
Ask yourself, "Is 3,700 words worth the few minutes it takes to write my opinion?" Yes, I do believe it is. So please, write a review! I draw a lot of inspiration off of people's thoughts. Thank you, again.
Chapter 2
He had forgotten how big, yet so small Philly always felt. The signs of family owned and operated delis, butchers, and other Mom and Pop type diners flooded his view and gave him a big sense of nostalgia, as he sat at a red light. Booth felt almost guilty that he had practically turned his back on the homey air that surrounded the city through the smog. He watched the groups of teenagers fooling around on skateboards in between families smiling, completely oblivious to his own turmoil, with not a care in the world and couldn't help but give a sad smile.
Too many times could he remember wishing the way his friends interacted with their parents was the way he interacted with his. Now was no different. The drive had been long and hard. Well, for him at least. Hodgins and Angela had decided to take another car, leaving him alone with Bones. He was grateful that Angela had pushed that, somehow channeling her psychic powers of just getting people and knowing what they need; and what he needed was Bones. Not that he would come out and say that. Not after rejecting him like she did.
He bites back a bitter bark of laughter. In a dark place inside he hears that small voice asking him what he had expected to be different. Everyone always beats him down; it should have been just expected. But Bones had proved she was unlike anybody else. She had believed in him when no one else would, built up his confidence. Where had he read it wrong?
"Booth it's green." Bones whispered, breaking their near two hour silence.
His head jerked to the light and let his foot off the brake. As they drove along further, Booth finally noticed song on the radio.
"Can we pretend that airplanes
In the night sky
Are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now
Wish right now
Wish right now
Can we pretend that airplanes
In the night sky
Are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now
Wish right now
Wish right now"
So can I, he think to himself.
*The blueness of the sky had sickened him. It should have been dark outside. Black. Dark grey. It really didn't matter, just anything but what it was. A sudden chill crept up his spine at the realization that today was really his last day here. He turns his coltish, ten year-old body around to the barren house that holds so many different (albeit many sad and scary) memories of his.
You could say the house was simple enough. Certainly nothing extraordinary to the naked eye. But Seeley knew different, and oh how he wishes it wasn't so. He wishes he didn't know that every salmon colored brick, that every drop of concrete, that every shingle, wasn't all a huge cover up to the truth. He felt as if the house was a monster. That maybe if he could blame the house, it would somehow reverse his mother's car spiraling out of control exactly eight and on half nights ago, because of heavy and horrible rains. That maybe if he could simple punch the cracked shutters it would reverse his dad becoming addicted to alcohol. That if he could just be man enough to shatter the windows, he could un-shatter everyone's hearts and he wouldn't feel responsible for everything that happened.
Because he wasn't under any false securities in not being his fault, it was. If he had only done…well, he honestly couldn't remember what he hadn't done, just that he didn't do it and he deserved what was coming to him. If he could only turn back time and do it over again, he could show that he's sorry and make it better. Mom would be in the kitchen – pretending the bruise on her cheek was a misstep in her make-up applying abilities – making her meatloaf, and singing to herself. Dad would be at the barber shop, and he would make sure everything was perfect when he came home. He would keep Jared in his room occupied and not bothering him.
He would do it better!
But that was never coming to him. His wishes were only that…wishes. The painted wood front door was open, with only the screen closed. He could hear the sounds of Pops finishing whatever it was he was doing with Jared, and fought his natural instincts to go find out what it was. Pops wasn't going to hurt Jared. He told himself. But just like he promised himself exactly eight and one half nights ago, he wasn't going to fail his four year-old brother again. He would protect him if it meant his own life.
"See-leeey!" his brother's high-pitched squeal cut off his thoughts. He immediately looked to the little tyke barreling out of the screen and across the yard with his teddy boo-boo bear. Aunt Margaret had bought it for him when he "accidentally" fell down out of his booster seat six months ago. Now, he wouldn't go anywhere without it.
"Yeah, kiddo? Where's Pops, he comin'?" he answers, catching him mid awkward run with a faked smile, doing his best to look happy for his sake.
"Yeah, Pops said we going bye-bye. Where we going, Seeley?" Jared asked innocently and allowing his big brother to pick him up.
"Uhhh…" He pretended to think about it, "We are going far, far away. Where dragons and monsters are locked away forever!" He responds theatrically making Jared giggle when he swoops down to pick him up and make him fly. Jared continued to giggle hysterically when Seeley finally let him down.
"Yer silly, Seeley." He laughs.
"Yeah, I guess I am, bubba." He smiles.
Jared looks to be in deep thought for a minute and he began to wonder what was going on in that overactive mind of his. "Seeley? Are we ever coming back here?" he asks innocently.
Booth thinks on that for a while, and shakes his head. "No, Jared. I don't want to ever come back here."
Jared seems surprised. "Never ever, no more?"
Booth gives a tight-lipped smile. "Yeah. Never ever, no more."*
He makes a left and at a four way stop and feels his skin start to prickle in nerves. Two more turns. Just two more turns and he'll be back on that too familiar street. He fights hyperventilating and instead turns up the radio hoping it will settle him down.
"It's really nice of your aunt to open up her house like this." Bones says conversationally, glancing at him and noticing his paling face.
"Yeah, Aunt Margaret has always been like that." He replies stopping again at another red light with yet another long sigh.
"Are you okay, Booth?" she asks worriedly.
"Yeah, fine. Never better." If his voice higher was pitched than normal, it was nothing to be concerned about. Really, he was fine.
"Uh huh." She says in disbelief, squinting at him.
"Bones, I just…I love my aunt." He starts. With a glance her way he notices the confusion written on her face, and realizes how odd that must have sounded. "I love my aunt but her house and…stuff it just…" he pauses as he starts driving again, trying to collect his thoughts. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, even though I love my aunt, she has a lot of memories that go along with her that I would just prefer to forget."
She nods in understanding. "I can see how that would be so."
"And going back to her house after all these years…it's, I guess it's just a bit of sensory overload." He chuckles nervously as he nears the final turn, flipping the signal on.
She doesn't answer when he makes that too familiar left.
They move forward till they reach the very end house on the old street, sitting on a corner lot with a tire swing hanging from a low hung tree branch and lush green lawn. Booth parks the car on the side of the house and takes a deep breath. "Here goes nothing." He whispers and opens his car door.
Bones had repeated his action and soon they were trailing up to the front door.
Everything was how he remembered it. The lawn was still perfectly kept-up, the flowers were still perfectly in bloom, the front porch still had that same – now certainly peeling and faded – rocking porch swing, the windows still had the same colored window shutters…even the gnome in the garden was the same. It struck him how relieving that was. Maybe because Aunt Margaret had always been his constant, and knowing that she even kept her house the same meant sanctuary.
"Here are Angela and Hodgins." Bones interrupts his silent musings and gestures to Hodgins' shiny, black Audi Spyder coming down the road and parking next to his Toyota. He shakes his head as the two of them step out and start walking over, bickering over something.
"What?" Booth catches Jack asking, while taking off his designer shades and Angela rolls her eyes.
"As I've been telling you the entire ride, we should have driven something a little less flashy." She says turning annoyed eyes his way. "We don't want a lot of attention, Jack. This is about Booth, not you."
"I'm not making it about me!" He gripes and starts walking a little faster.
When they both reach Booth and Bones, the two looked extremely aggravated with one another. Bones smirked and looked at Booth who also seemed slightly peeved.
"You alright?" she asked him. He nodded at her and shook it off. If Hodgins wanted to shove his money in his aunt's face, he figured he could go for it. The Margaret he remembered would look at Hollywood stars the same way she looked at homeless people – everyone was equal in her eyes, it was very hard to impress her.
"Your aunt has a very adorable house, Booth." Angela said in a sincere tone. She stepped forward and admired it a little more. "There's just a homey charm to it. I wish there was a way to bottle it and give it to everyone."
"Thanks Angela." Booth said to her and gave a smile, before turning toward the direction of the front door.
The foursome ascended the steps in silence. Booth paused to take in a breath before knocking soundly twice. He didn't dare look behind him and see the curious eyes asking quiet questions for why he knocked in such a way. They wouldn't understand, and he didn't have the energy to explain.
The wood door opened first and then the screen, revealing Jared with an unreadable face. "Seeley." He said to him in greeting and turned to the other three, who all looked at him with differing expressions. Bones – suspicion and mild anger; Angela – anger all out; and Hodgins – unconcern. "Guys." He greeted and stepped aside to let them in the house.
Booth almost growled at Jared as soon as he saw him, but thought better of it. He had every intention of sitting his brother down to have a long chat soon; but now he was too tired. Both emotionally and physically. "Jared." He said instead with clearly recognizable coldness and stepped inside. He was suddenly assaulted with yet again everything being exactly the same. To his left was that same black and white picture of some woman he can't remember the name of. To his right was that same antique table still holding all the same trinkets he used to think were the coolest things in the world. Even the same silver plated letter opener sitting atop the display. He gulped.
*"Aunt Margi, why do you have that small sword?" Booth had asked one afternoon, when he was only five.
His aunt looked up from the coffee table where she had been setting lunch out for Seeley and her. She smiled tightly, nervous of how to answer that question. "It's not a sword, sweetie, it's called a letter opener."
Booth's eyebrows shot upward as he stared at his aunt in amazement. "Wow! It actually opens letters? So you don't get cuts on your fingers?" He was excited to hear of such a device, but then turned back to it and looked at all of the intricate carving on the blade and became confused. "But then why does it look like a sword? You know like…like one of those cool swords that those metal covered knights use on bad people?"
Margaret stepped forward and began leading her nephew towards the coffee table, biting her lip. "Well," she paused and avoided his quizzical eyes, "maybe" she brightened, "it's because then I know I have something to protect myself with, huh?"
"So it could kill the bad guys AND open letters?" Booth asked in wonder.
She nodded her head vigorously. "Yeah, uh-huh, I guess so. Come on, let's go eat a PB&J, shall we?"
"Okay." He agreed with a sigh. He truly hated peanut butter, but never said so. It was the only thing they could really afford. A thought crossed his mind, however, and he added quietly, "Maybe one day I'll use that sword to protect someone?"*
"Seeley?" Aunt Margaret's smooth, feminine voice brought him back to the present.
"Yeah Aunt Margi, it's me." Booth replied looking at her shuffling from the living room couch over to where he was standing. He smiled and didn't notice the looks he was receiving from his friends or his brother. He was lost in memory. It felt, while standing in that tiny foyer, like he had stepped into the past again. Like he was five , and had run to her house because his became so scary. And he was loathe to admit how many times in all those years he would run to her bleeding or really hurt, and she would have to perform her magical powers of making him better.
She had on one of her usual flowery dresses. Her make-up was simple just like he remembered. Margaret had always been a firm believer in loving what God gave you, and not covering it up with something as trivial as make-up. Her hair was a dark, smoky gray – obviously replacing her once midnight black; and her eyes were still that same fiery brown. She was exactly as he'd left her.
"My, my how you've grown, Sweetheart." She went on as he closed the small gap to not make her walk any further. "I remember when you were just knee high to a jack rabbit's butt!" She laughed out loud and Seeley turned red slightly but accepted the embrace she caught him in anyway. He took a deep breath and was nearly brought to tears by the fact that she even smelt the same.
Bones had been silent throughout everything up until that point. "Actually, a jack rabbit…"
Angela cut her off, "Figure of speech, Sweetie. Let it go." Bones looked at her annoyed, but slightly guilty and nodded her head.
"Oh dear Heavens, where are my manners?" Margaret pulled away from Booth, somewhat unsteadily and looked at the other three quarters of the foursome. "Seeley baby, these must be your friends! Hi, I'm Margaret Booth, but you are all very welcome to call me Aunt Margi."
"Hello there, Aunt Margi," Jack said first and smirked at Booth who looked uncomfortable with the term of endearment Margaret used. "I'm Dr. Jack Hodgins. You can call me, Jack. I work with your" he turned toward Booth with an absolutely evil smile, "Seeley baby on our murder cases."
Booth scowled, then looked at Angela before looking back at Hodgins with an equally evil smile. "Yeah, Aunt Margi, Hodgie" it was Jack's turn to scowl while Brennan and Angela looked nothing but amused, "here is an entomologist."
Aunt Margaret turned to Booth in dissatisfaction from rising to the bait, but shook it off. "Well it's nice to meet you, Jack."
"My name's Angela." Angela piped up and stepped forward with an outstretched hand and charming smile. "Angela Montenegro. No "Doctor" in front of it, I'm just his associate." A beat. "His associate, meaning I'm a forensic artist. And I do…" She glanced at Booth who motioned for her to continue, "facial reconstructions…of the dead peop – of the victims. Yes, I do facial reconstructions of the victims." She let out a nervous laugh as she let go of Margaret's hand and motioned for Brennan to save her from her rambling embarrassment.
Booth patted Angela's arm affectionately and she relaxed a little, neither noticing the daggers being sent from Hodgin's. Well, none but Jared who crossed his arms and smirked.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan, and I'm your nephew's partner."
"PARTNER?" She squeaked and spinned to slap Booth's arm. He yelped in shock. "Why the hell didn't you tell me, you had a partner? Seeley baby, am I that unimportant that I can't know when my nephew's finally seeing someone?"
Bones dropped her hand and looked at Booth in confusion. He had a faraway glint before shaking it off and saying as light heartedly as he could, "She's not that kind of partner, Auntie. She's my work partner." He chanced a glance Bones' way for help.
"I'm a forensic anthropologist. I help him ID victims, and catch their killers."
Margaret squinted in suspicion when Jared finally spoke up. "It's true Auntie. She's just his work partner." The stressing was not lost anyone besides Margaret. She nodded her head in acceptance.
"Well then, I apologize for my outburst." She turned away from everyone and began leading them through living room and to the wood paneled, rickety stairs. "I don't line in nothing but a split-level, so you all are gonna have to make do with sharing…"
Booth looked at Bones as they fell to the back of the line, vaguely hearing the grumbles coming from Jared when he found out he would have to share with Hodgins. He smiled slightly there. His aunt once again knew what he needed. Solitude. A room entirely to himself so he could think and piece himself together every morning before having to face another day.
"Your aunt is a lovely woman, Booth." Bones said quietly, afraid to look at him.
"Yeah, I know. She always knows what I need." He sounded reverent.
Bones stopped and her face became completely serious as she turned toward him. He stopped as well, letting the others go on ahead. "What do you need, Booth?" She asked, her voice heavy with emotion.
He let his eyes flick around her face, cautioning himself for a trick but found none. There was so much he wanted to say to that – so much he wished he could say to her, yet knew was against the promise he'd made to leave that possibility be – but he had no words other than, "Sanctuary." He said in a breath, his eyes getting watery. It was the best word for it, really. What he really needed was for Bones to hold him like he's had to for her, and tell him everything's fine. Even though he knows as well as she does that it's the furthest thing from fine. That everything was stacking up against him like shit in a garbage dump, but while close within her arms, he could pretend it wasn't there. That it didnt matter. But no he wasn't going to get that. Bones wouln'd - well according to her couldn't love him that way. The way he needs and wants her to. So until then, the best he could wish for was..."A Sanctuary…and…peace. I would love to finally have peace." He nodded his head once in an attempt to look resolute and turned back around to follow the other s up the stairs.
