A Boy From Philly

Part II

Booth sunk lower into the waiting room chair. In his right hand was a cup of luke-warm hospital coffee.

He took a sip and grimaced. I take that back. Luke-warm and burnt hospital coffee.

Anne had gone home to take a nap before taking the night shift, leaving her son to watch over his father for a few hours.

His father was in his room having his colostomy bag changed and therefore he was not welcome. Mike Booth may have been dying, but he knew enough to save his son the embarrassment of that particular process. Not to mention, a very feisty older nurse quickly shoved him out of the room.

Either way, Booth had seen enough gruesome grossness in his twelve and a half year career to last him a lifetime. He wouldn't have stayed if someone had payed him. Nobody needs those memories to be among the last ones they have of their father.

The clocked on the opposite wall ticked-tick-ticked around its center point.

"Woah! We're half way the-ere! Woa-oh! Livin' on a prayer!" A few nurses turned toward the phone that was making all of the racket. Bones had messed with his phone before the summer hiatus, switching his ring tone from its business-like preset tone to Bon Jovi's Living on a Prayer. An interesting choice of music. One which Booth didn't try to psychoanalyze. It wasn't much of a surprise. Bon Jovi, that is, wasn't a surprise. He knew that Bones was a closet 80s rock-a-holic. "Take my hand, we'll make it I swea-ear! Woa-oh! Livin' on a prayer!"

Nah. Brennan wasn't the type of woman who sent secret messages via musica to her partner.

"Sorry," Booth said, standing. "I'll just take this--" Glares all around. "Yeah."

He pressed the little green glowing phone button when he got outside. The summer sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon. So that would put it roughly at 7:30 PM.

"Hey, Bones."

Brennan was rolling a bag into the back of her car. She lifted it and placed it into the back of her Toyota. "Three rings?"

"Huh?"

"It took you three rings to answer." She slammed the back of her car.

"Sorry, Bones. I was in the hospit--a library." Nice recovery. And he knew it.

"Wait. No. You were going to say a hospital. Why are you at a hospital?" She climbed into the Toyota and started the engine. "Is Parker OK?"

"Yeah, yeah. Parker's OK."

"Rebecca?"

"Yeah."

"Jared?"

"Look, Bones--"

"It's your mom, isn't it?"

He couldn't help but to crack a smile, "No, Bones. It's not my mom."

"Oh." She had figured it out and Booth could tell from the way she uttered that syllable. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"How do you know it's not a broken hip or something? He's sixty-eight." Booth spotted a discarded cigarette that was still glowing on the sidewalk. He smudged it out, pressing one hand into his pocket.

Brennan backed out onto the main road and began to drive toward 295 South. "Taking into account the fact that he is an alcoholic, the fact that you left for your vacation two days early, and that you've been in a hospital ever since, I'd assume that it's something... serious. It is, isn't it?"

Booth turned toward the doors in time to see a woman in sweats and holding a tiny newborn being wheeled out by a nurse in Spongebob scrubs. The doors slid open. A bright-eyed husband pulled up in a Kia Sedona and ushered her toward the car excitedly. Such a stark contrast.

"Yeah. Yeah it is." Temperance Brennan. She never ceased to amaze him. One minute she was completely naive to the emotions and inner-workings of others. The next, she was reading him like some sort of anthropological book. "For someone who doesn't read people very well, Bones, you sure do pretty well at reading me."

Something in his voice made her do a U-Turn. "What hospital are you at?"

"Thomas Jefferson. Why?"

"Will you be there three hours from now?"

"Probably not. Bones, you don't have to come here."

"But I think I should."

"When does your flight leave?"

"It doesn't matter. Where are you staying?"

"Mom's."

She smiled, "And where exactly is 'Mom's'?"

"I'll text you directions. Bones, you don't have to do this."

"Who else will be there for you? Logically speaking, Booth, Jared is utterly dependent on you. You're probably comforting your mother through this all, and you need a friend." It didn't make too much sense to her. Even with all of her logic. But she had lost her own father once. She had lost her mother. How different would life have been if she had Booth as a friend when she was fifteen?

"Bones. I've got friends in Philly."

Silently, she replied, "But you don't have a Bones."

Booth smiled and shook his head. The sky lit afire as the sun disappeared, hitting the apex of the hills. "No. I guess I don't."

"I'll be there in a few hours."


I may be 24, but I'm well aware of the fact that Bon Jovi rocks! If you haven't heard that song, go find it on YouTube or something. :D Wait until the chorus before you make any judgments! ;) tehehehe