I spent some time looking over the next few years of the show for the moments... there are a LOT of moments! Many, many more than I had anticipated! I think that is the reason I love this show so much!
Thank you to all those who read chapter one! Thank you to JSBonesLover for the review - there are a few more words this time!
Her Patchwork Heart
By Rianne.
Chapter Two.
Piece Thirteen.
Was anything but unlucky.
He did save her.
And Hodgins.
They all did.
No one gave up hope.
'What you have is faith, Baby.'
She disliked Hodgins' turn of phrase.
But, she did.
Not in some ephemeral higher being. Something rationally impossible.
But in those she knew. Those she secretly held dear.
Like Booth.
She had seen what Booth could do.
The gravedigger, anonymous, spectral, and deadly had lost for the very first time.
Messed with the wrong team of Squints, Anthropologists, Entomologist, Computer Genius and FBI Guy.
Outsmarted by the very best.
'Dr. Brennan, it's been a privilege.'
Meaningful last words. Their tears freefalling.
Her friend clasped tight in her arms in the dying green glow from her flashlight.
Then two wires, held by two brave souls.
Connected.
It had been enough just to breathe as her makeshift explosion had detonated.
Her lungs burning. Dust and smoke everywhere, thick and obscuring.
Lack of oxygen had made her limbs feel heavy.
Yet, she had fought.
She had clawed towards freedom, trying to keep a hold of Hodgins' arm.
Until two hands had closed tight around hers.
Shouldering her burden.
His strong arms dragging her up from the depths of gravel canyon hell.
The power in his body making her feel weightless.
The ground fighting not to release her, the residual suction from shifting gravel, trying to drag her back down.
But he encircled her. Holding her to his chest. Gaining strength.
Groaning, and panting as he freed her.
His heart wild.
His frown deep.
Her limbs weak.
'Get Hodgins,' she had managed to whisper.
Aware that there was Cam and Zack and Angela with him too.
He left her for a moment to help dig.
She had made it upright as they dragged Hodgins from the earth.
She had swayed, seen Angela's gentle kiss grace Hodgins' dusty lips.
Had wondered.
And Booth had come back.
Crawling beside her in the dirt.
Collapsing, watching the joy in Angela and Zack's faces for just a moment.
Before they found one another again.
The look in his eyes, made her smile take flight.
Face smeared with dirt, he was the best thing she had ever seen.
Hodgins was safe.
She was safe.
Then he smiled, nearly laughed, hysteria bubbling just beneath the surface, but their gaze spoke volumes.
Probably more than the scrawled words on the little folded piece of paper hidden in the curve of her bra.
Piece Fourteen.
Fell in sitting beside him.
She had found she did not want to be alone.
Or away from him.
So she sat.
Awkwardly.
Silently.
She waited, whilst he knelt.
Eyes drifting over the hallowed, lofty interior of his church.
Whilst he prayed.
Observing his faith.
Taking in the beauty of the carved wood, and the delicate, glowing panes of coloured glass.
She told him that she was okay with his thanking God for saving her and Hodgins.
And was surprised to hear his reply.
That he had thanked God for saving all of them.
And her tears had come.
At the knowledge that he saw them as part of something.
'I knew you wouldn't give up.'
Piece Fifteen.
A 'Guy Hug.'
Came after yet another disappointment in the playing field of dating.
She was frustrated. Feeling decidedly sorry for herself.
For starters, simple coffee with a man had left her bumbling and awkward. Which annoyed her. She didn't like that she wasn't good at something.
Will had seemed such a good man. Calm and reassuring. Genuinely interested.
One amongst thousands who understood something very few other people did about her.
He had lived a similar life, orphaned with a younger sibling.
He had fought, he had stayed, been the big brother that hers had not.
And how she wondered what her life would have been like if Russ had stayed for her.
She wanted to see the world the way he did.
He had given her a lot to think about.
And Booth had Cam now. So...
They had found many things in common, music, laughter.
His gentle kiss had flipped her stomach and made her smile.
Until confusion rose at Booth's appearance. The restaurant around her fading away at his words.
'I'm sorry.'
A single tear hovering on her eyelashes, burning a pathway down her cheek, as realisation dawned.
Will had killed his own brother.
It seemed that even if you tried to do the right thing, you didn't always succeed.
And that had made her sad.
Too defeated to even hide her tears from Booth.
Feeling his pained gaze track her motions as she fled.
She had been unsurprised that he had sought her out later.
Leaning in the doorway of her office.
Tilting his head in compassion.
Talking of perceptions altered by hope and fear and love.
Seeing her in a true moment of weakness.
When she questioned everything.
That even her best wasn't good enough.
'You had no trouble seeing through me.' He had teased her.
Made her smile. Brush the tears away.
She would like to think she did see him, and for the most part she had him figured out.
But his relationship with Cam, whatever that was, had been a surprise.
'Well, it's a good thing I like being alone.' She had murmured.
Melodramatic wasn't a place she usually dwelt, but she failed to resist the urge to wallow.
'You're not alone.'
The heat of his palm had touched her back. Right between her shoulders.
Encouraging her to face him.
He held his arms out, encouraging her closer.
Charming smile, creases around his eyes.
'We're Partners. It's a guy hug.'
She was too vulnerable to resist.
'Take it.'
She had bitten her lip so hard it had bled, as his arms came around her.
She would not cry.
He was warm.
Her heart had stuttered, causing her breath to catch.
Gentle palms moving across her back.
Everything she needed, and wanted.
And it wasn't hers to claim.
She had closed her eyes against the deluge.
Piece Sixteen.
Father Toby Coulter.
Matthew Brennan.
Max Keenan.
Cryptic messages that she and her brother were in danger.
Then the truth.
Who he was now.
How could she not have seen it?
'Your Mother said, 'Just like you Max, she's just like you.'
Her Mother.
His words that not a day went by when his heart was not broken.
Hair colour, plastic surgery, coloured contact lenses, chin and cheek implants.
Fifteen years older.
Her Father.
And her brother had known for weeks.
Max had decided her brother needed him, needed help to fix his life.
Whereas she was deemed better off without him.
A wall of stalker photographs had proved her father's warnings correct.
And two men had died. One of them in her apartment. One of them the Deputy Director of the FBI.
Her father a murderer?
Who had shot a man in the head, hung him from a pole, gutted him and then set him on fire.
To protect his family?
She had hugged him tight, both out of need and fear, and something more, to delay him.
But he had told her he loved her, when she told him she couldn't let him go.
He had told her he was proud of her.
She had waited what felt like a lifetime.
Then he was gone.
Her brother whisked away with him.
She had been abandoned again.
Chained to a bench.
Her metaphorical heart in pieces.
Her father's words echoing.
'Listen, if you find somebody you can trust you hang onto them.'
And Booth had been there.
Fighting for her.
Steady for her.
'I'm your Gun. I shoot'em. You cuff them.'
His welcoming arms at the sight of blood in her apartment.
Surrendering to her tears.
'I wish you wouldn't keep letting me hug you when I get scared.'
And a promise.
'Hey, if I get scared, I'll hug you.'
Offering her a family.
In the familiar surroundings of the Diner. Words passed between them, quiet and just theirs.
'I'm just one of those people that doesn't get to be in a family.'
Turning her face away to hide her pain. Voice breaking without her permission.
Until the tender coax of his single curved finger had drawn her back to him.
'There's more than one kind of family.'
And the moment had stretched. Mesmerised.
Filled with all the hopes and desires and an aching longing.
'Your squints, my squints.'
'No, Booth, we are all of us your squints.'
To Be Continued...