A/N: Wow, I honestly cant believe the responses I'm getting to this story.
554Laura: a very interesting story…please add more
karenb: This story reminds me of the way they acted and communicated in the early days. You did a good job with this story. I am anxious for the next one.
geraghtyvl: I'm really enjoying your stories. I hope there will be more.
Thanks, y'all! And as a reward for your support and kind words, and because i really don't want to do my research paper, here is a new chapter! Also, the letter is the real one Brennan wrote during the Grave Digger episode.
Please continue to review!
She told him that she still had nightmares.
"Hodgins is bleeding, you're drowning. I - I can't help anyone."
He knew she still dreamt about being buried alive in that car, running out of air, running out of time, and hoping that he would swoop in and save the day. Some nights, when memories of the Grave Digger resurfaced painfully, he would lie next to her, trying to give her some reassurance that she wasn't suffocating. That he was right there. And with every whimper of fear, every nightmare induced tear on her cheek, his heart broke a little more.
Booth didn't like to think about that day, when Brennan had been taken from him and suddenly he had found himself floundering with squints he didn't understand and trying to do what Bones always made seem so…effortless. And Hodgins - it was more terrifying than he had ever imagined, and they hadn't been working together long at that point. But suddenly, the idea of her being a victim - that's why he had run across the lot when he saw the tiniest puff of smoke. That's why he kept screaming her name as he dug and dug until finally he grabbed hold of her and just held her in his arms.
That's why he felt no real remorse when the Grave Digger had been killed.
Seeley Booth sat in his armchair in the living room. Bones was upstairs putting Christine to bed, which, after all the sugar and sweets babysitters Angela and Hodgins had given her, was sure to take a while. Booth pulled out a worn slip of paper, something he has carried with him for years.
Dear Agent Booth,
You are a confusing man. You are irrational, and implausible, superstitious, and exasperating. You believe in ghosts and angels and maybe even Santa Claus. And because of you, I've started to see the universe differently. How is it possible that simply looking into your fine face gives me so much joy? Why does it make me so happy that every time I try to sneak a peak at you, you are already looking at me? Like you, it makes no sense. And like you, it feels right.
If I ever get out of here, I will find a time and a place to tell you that you make my life messy and confusing and unfocused and irrational and wonderful.
Booth has been carrying the letter Brennan wrote to him in that goddamn car ever since she read it as her vows at their wedding. Every morning, he slipped it into his pocket, and whenever a case got too tough, whenever things hit too close to home, he would take it out and read the very moment when Brennan admitted that she had fallen in love with him….and how she was too scared to admit it out loud.
Lately, though, he had taken to pulling out every few minutes. He just needed conformation…for what, he wasn't sure. But with what had just happened - Booth gripped the paper tighter. He couldn't think about that, even though it had been just yesterday…
Why did this case have to bring back those terrible memories? More importantly, why were there those whack jobs in the world that were fascinated with copy-catting murderers? Why would someone want to bring back the torment of the Grave Digger?
Why would someone target them again, after all they suffered?
Booth remembered fighting with Brennan over the stupidest thing yesterday morning -
"Bones, why can't you just see my side of things for once?"
"Because it's inaccurate, Booth! "
"Stop! Just stop, Bones. Okay, for once, can't you just be normal and let the scientific bullshit that no one understands go, and just feel? Just - be normal!"
And then he was saved by the bell, but not really because the hurt in her eyes haunted him all day, and they both answered their phones and were whisked away to the newest grisly crime scene. Bones didn't speak to him at all, and he directed all his questions through Cam. Why? Why did he act so petty? Why was he holding that angry facade when all he wanted to do was apologize and hold her and make her feel loved.
But he never got the chance. Piece by piece kept coming in for the case, and suddenly, before the could prepare, they had linked the body found in the shallow grave to a copy cat of the Grave Digger and everything became real - and then she was gone.
Bones was gone.
Booth, now and in the present, held that old letter tighter in his hands, trying not to tear it to pieces. He remembered getting the call - he hadn't even been there with her! He had sent Aubrey, a rookie, in the field with her because he had still been acting like a child, and because of that, Temperance had been taken by the copy cat.
She had been gone a full 24 hours.
24 hours of pure agony and heartbreak for Booth, who had to lie to his daughter to explain why Mommy wasn't home that night. And with each passing second, he had broken just a little more.
But it was over now. Booth sighed, releasing a breath he hadn't know he was holding. Bones was right upstairs, tucking their baby girl into bed. And they were good - he had held her and cried as he pulled her from the sinking shipping crate, kissing her over and over, murmuring his apologies and she shuddered and sobbed and screamed.
"It's alright, now Bones. I'm here. I'm here, and I will never leave. I love you. So much. Okay, baby? I'm here. I'm here, Bones."
"Booth. Oh my God, Booth. Booth.'"
"Shush, I know. I'm here. I promise. I love you."
"I love you, too."
Some days, he wondered if he hadn't ruined her life by coming into it. She certainly would have less near death experiences. But he opened that letter and saw how, even near death, she had though of him and thought that he life was wonderful simply because she knew him. And while it might not have been the most comforting thought, it made Special Agent Seeley Booth melt.
Slowly, he stood, replacing the letter in his pocket and making his way upstairs to his family. He had them, here and now. They were here, right now. That's all that mattered, at the end of the day.
That's all that mattered.
