Alrighty, so I worked on this last night! Hopefully it's good. Please, read and review! I don't own Bones, as always!
It's hard to hate someone once you understand them-Lucy Christopher
When I woke up, I'm in a bed, covered with what feels like a million covers. For a moment, I think, hey, it was just a bad dream, and maybe I was sick or feverish or something, and mom just brought me to the guest room…Well, dad would do that, carry me, but they'd both be downstairs, talking about god knows what they talked about when I wasn't around. I'd get up, dad would take me to school, we would go to Colorado this weekend and it'd all be good.
I rolled over on my back, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, when I realized that this was not in fact my houses guest room. It was Angela's.
I started to sob.
It's a wretched sound, sobbing. Gulping air, pained gasps, the sounds that tear us apart. My body shakes with the effort, and I can't calm myself. I feel hysterical, and suddenly I'm shaking, sobbing, whimpering.
"Mom…Dad…Please, come back…Just.." I'm gasping, begging, crying out. It sounds like a scream to most of the house, though to my own ears it's a soft beg, a low beg. The sound of someone running upstairs greats me, and I curl further into the bed, sobbing, whimpering, hoping they won't see me, whoever they are.
I feel arms wrap around me, though the arms have little muscle, so I know it's not a male. For a moment, I almost gasp out, 'Mom, mom it's you, you're alive, you're alive!' until I hear the persons voice.
"Shh, sweetie…It's me…"
This only brings about more sobs from me, and the shaking continues. I felt as though I were suffocating, my lungs burning, and I try to think of the scientific reason all of this is happening, but I can't.
Burying my head into the arms of the woman next to me, I keep on crying, drenching her shirt, until exhaustion falls over me again and I want to fall back asleep. Instead, I relaxed in her arms and look into her eyes.
She's been crying too.
The light let in by the open door displays puffiness, red eyes. And if Angela looked like this, I don't want to know how I looked.
"It's…True, then? They're gone?"
She bit her lip and nods, before sobs erupt from her again.
I feel incapable of tears once again, and so I simply hold her closely and close my eyes, not wanting to be alone, not wanting anyone to leave me again. So lonely…So sick…I want to pass out again.
And so I do.
When I awake once more, Angela is still besides me, she too sleeping, and Parker is entering the room. He shakes me softly, and kneels besides me.
"How you feeling, kiddo? You alright?"
"I'm okay…" I lie, trying to hide my tears from him.
"No, you're not," he smiled sadly and roughs up my hair. I want to tell him, stop, no, knock it off! Only dad can do that! But then I've always been like my mother, rational, and this part of me says, no, it's okay, let him do it. He's not hurting anyone, he's showing a sign of affection. And your dad wouldn't care, he's dead.
I feel the choking sensation in my throat again, and lean into Parker, trying not to let everything break me at once.
He tugged on my arm, and motions towards Angela.
"Lets let her sleep, alright? All she's been doing since we found out is planning…I need to show you something," he offered, and I got up, slowly, before fallowing him.
Parker had his arm around my shoulder, keeping me close. I expected to see tears on his face, but when I didn't see them, I took a small amount of comfort. The sickness in my gut calmed for a moment. He walked us downstairs, out the door, and gestured for me to sit down on the step. When I looked at him, he shrugged, and sat down, taking out a cigarette and puffing on it lightly.
"That'll kill you, Parks,"
He shrugged. "Picked it up in the Army before they kicked me out for a bum knee. It feels nice," he stated, looking at me and smiling. "I'm gonna die one day. And with everything I saw and breathed in back in the war, trust me, a cigarette is the least of my problems."
He patted the ground again, and I sat down, staring at the ground. After a few moments in silence, he reached into his pockets and pulled something out. I heard a faint clinking sound, and when he pulled out dads tags, my eyes widened.
"Why do you have those?"
"Dad gave me a pair before he went back to war. That was before you were even thought of, kiddo. I have another pair, too, at home. But these worn by him in the gulf war. Little more damage," he smiled softly at me, then pulled out another set. "I know their a little more grungy, that set, but they're more…Him. Sometimes, I can feel it pulsating…Like he's saying, look, I know it sucks, but I'm still thinking of you. I'm still here,"
I stared at the ground, and when I feel him placing them around my neck, I looked up in surprise.
"You need him more than I do, Chrissy."
I fingered them lightly, and he smiled at me.
"They ain't reg, or you don't have to fallow reg, so wear them all you want. They're yours,"
"What about you?"
"I still have a set…Don't worry 'bout it, kay? I know dads with me. I've known all my life. I don't need a reminder,"
I almost back lash at him, saying, I don't need a reminder either, but I stayed silent. We sat like this while darkness set upon the day and then he got up, offering me a hand.
"You want to go get something to eat?"
"No I…I don't know what I want, Parker….I just…I want things to be back to normal…"
He looked at the house and then back at me, smiling sadly.
"I can't give you that. Sorry," he whispered. I choked back tears and nodded. When he opened the door for me, and I saw the majority of our odd little family in the living room, talking, I slunk away from them. They'd all turned towards me and Parker, as if expecting some sort of violent reaction. However, Parker held me close and kissed me on the top of my head.
I suddenly felt very overwhelmed, and looked back at Parker, begging him to take me away for a while. He looked at the group, tried a smile.
"Mind if I take pipsqueak to get some grub?" he asked, looking mainly at Uncle Jack, who shrugged. Michael started to get up, as if objecting, but Uncle Jack grabbed his arm and pulled him down.
Parker grabbed my arm, tugged me lightly back out, and when we got into the car, I simply leaned against the door.
"Nobody said it was easy," Parker said, ruffling my hair and starting the engine. The sound startled me, and I cringed slightly at the mere idea of food.
"Nobody said it would be this hard," I countered, and shook my head. "I'm really not hungry, Parker."
"Then lets go for a drive," he stated, putting the car in gear and starting off.
"Can we go to my house?" I asked suddenly, and for a moment, I saw a glisten of sadness in his eyes.
"Lets wait till someone more…Adept is with before we do that. I don't think I could do it, Christine. I'm sorry," he said, and then continued off again. Sighing, I leaned against the door again and wondered if, maybe, for just a moment, I could roll down the windows and scream.
But of course, I couldn't, and I didn't.
I felt sick again, but what was that to matter?
