Chapter 4

"There are times when the ocean is not the ocean - not blue, not even water, but some violent explosion of energy and danger: ferocity on a scale only gods can summon. It hurls itself at the island, sending spray right over the top of the lighthouse, biting pieces off the cliff. And the sound is a roaring of a beast whose anger knows no limits. Those are the nights the light is needed most."

― M. L. Stedman - The Light Between Oceans

It seemed like a brilliant idea at the time, but then again, he was drunk. Drunk and listening to Sweets, which turned out to be an awful combination. Booth rolled over, groaning and pulling a pillow up over his head to shield himself from streams of morning light seeping in through his blinds. God, it was bright. It was his second hangover in as many days and his body was exacting its revenge.

Laying there in the quiet of his apartment it felt like reality was assaulting him. His bed was empty, Hannah was gone, and Bones was, well, Bones. He rubbed his hands across his face, pushing them up into his hair, fisting handfuls and tugging before letting go. Bones. God. He didn't even know where to start with that, the way they left things, he didn't know what to expect. He'd deal with that later, when he could think clearer. Rolling over on his side, he tried to hide from the light. He just wanted to go back to sleep, wake up and have it all be some sort of wretched nightmare, not his life.

Letting out a long, deep sigh, he closed his eyes. He couldn't blame it all on the boy or the booze. It was time to man up, it was him, he needed to take responsibility for it, all of it. For a couple a weeks his conversation with Bones haunted him, that person's not going anywhere echoed in his head, constantly present, constantly niggling at him. Everyday it got worse, with every interaction louder, until it didn't matter whether it was Bones or Hannah he was talking to or thinking about, it was there, demanding his attention, begging for resolution.

But, as far as he could see there was no solution. He couldn't just break up with Hannah, not after telling her that there was nothing between him and Bones anymore. Well, he could, and maybe he should, but it felt like he couldn't. Plus, he loved her, not as much as Bones, he finally acknowledged that, but there was love there. He was happy with her and she was so goddamn easy to be in a relationship with.

Bones, she was just so complicated, but he couldn't resist the pull of her. He was convinced, if he stayed with Hannah, he would always have feelings for Bones, they were never going away. But, there was no guarantees with her. What if he ended things with Hannah, would Bones still want him and even if she did want him, would she be ready to be in a relationship with him? She said she was going to move on, what if she did?

Truth. He didn't believe that, not for a second. The way she looked at him that night in the Founding Fathers, what if you let that person get away, God, he would never forget that, never. Those eyes, those beautiful, stormy eyes of hers, and when he answered, it was too real, the most honest exchange between them, maybe ever. He knew, he knew what she meant and she knew his intentions when he answered. It was a promise. He made her a promise.

He made her a promise and he couldn't keep it while he was still in a relationship with Hannah. His mind rolled back and forth for weeks over these two strong, beautiful women in his life, searching for a solution that wouldn't hurt either of them, one where he could keep his integrity and honor. He wanted to do right by them, both of them. Back and forth, day and night, to no avail. Bones. Hannah. Bones.

God, what a mess he made of things.

Then Sweets happened, Sweets and copious amounts of alcohol. He was rambling on about life and love and marriage and not wanting to be like Booth. At first it stung, and then it hit him. Marriage, marriage was the answer. His brain was foggy from the alcohol and he wasn't exactly sure how this was going to work, but he ran with it, right then and there he made a commitment. He was going to ask Hannah to marry him. Sweets was going to ask Daisy and he was going to ask Hannah and they were going to go pick out their rings together.

Just like that, another promise to keep.

Booth could get out of it if he wanted to, he knew that. After he sobered up he thought about it, but for some twisted reason asking Hannah to marry him made sense. The way things were, he was stuck. Nothing was moving. This would change things, for better or for worse, it would change things.

All those years in catechism and Catholic school paid off, he knew his bible. Asking Hannah to marry him was an Old Testament solution to his problem. It was like the story of Rebekah. Abraham's servant was sent to find Isaac a wife and he prayed, right? Prayed that God would send the right woman to him and he would know her because she would be the woman who offered to give him, a traveler, and his camels water at the well. Easy, right?

Just go to the well and wait, the first woman to come offer him water would be Isaac's wife, the one God wanted him to have, right?

He would ask Hannah to marry him and if she said no, well, then they weren't meant to be, that would be the end of them. Problem solved. No confessions, no sitting down and talking about his feelings for Bones. He wouldn't be rejecting Hannah, Hannah would be rejecting him, it would be her choice. And if she said yes, well, then that was an answer in itself, right? Because he wanted marriage, marriage and a family, a house and a yard and a picket fence, the whole nine yards.

So, he did it. He bought the ring, the most beautiful one he could find, more than he could afford, nonrefundable, and made the plans. The night was cool and stars twinkled in the sky, reflecting in the water fountain in front of him. It was perfect. And when he saw Hannah walking towards him, bright eyes, the picture of ease and comfort, he couldn't wait any longer, not for the restaurant, not for dinner or drinks or anything else. He asked her right then and there, right where they stood.

Of course, nothing is really ever that easy. Nothing.

Bones was at home when she got the call, leaning against the arm of her couch with her legs curled underneath her as she nursed a glass of wine. She and Booth skipped their post case celebration, he already had plans with Hannah. She understood. They were going to celebrate later, after the weekend, with a special lunch or maybe drinks after work one day when Hannah was working late. That was Booth's suggestion, which was interesting to her because they missed post case celebrations before, lots of them since returning to DC, and he never made a point of rescheduling.

When she saw that caller ID she immediately began to worry. Hannah was with Booth, so why would Hannah be calling her? Sometimes her mind was too fast for her own good, in the time it took to reach for the phone and answer it she'd already gone through hundreds of scenarios, none of them good, all of them centering on Booth being hurt or injured to the point where he couldn't call her himself.

In a way, that was true.

Hannah told her about the proposal, shocked that Temperance knew nothing about it. She told her about her refusal, about her conversation with him, told her she was at his apartment packing, getting ready to leave. Temperance kept trying to get her to talk faster, to get to the point faster, but Hannah wouldn't be rushed. She wanted the support of a friend, another strong woman who wasn't the marrying kind, but her loyalties belonged to Booth, they always had, and the only thing she wanted from Hannah was to know was where he was. Hannah didn't know. After that, she rushed to get off the phone. She needed to find him.

He felt her, when she walked in the door of the Founding Fathers, he knew it was her and part of him tensed, holding his drink tighter, letting his eyes fall closed. He wasn't ready to deal with her, not yet. He wouldn't be at the damn bar if he wasn't waiting to go home until Hannah was gone, but there he was, drowning his sorrows, aggravated because he wanted to be alone and the whole damn bar was filled with couples, happy couples, and he couldn't seem to make any relationship work, not even with someone as easy to be with as Hannah. And now Bones was there, which meant she knew, and she'd wanna talk about it. He didn't want to talk about it.

Halting when she walked through the door, she watched for a moment, taken by the sight of him slumped over. Even from where she stood he appeared broken. Booth cringed, as her footsteps fell closer and closer to where he was sitting. He shook off the burn of his last shot or maybe he was trying to shake her off. He tried to hide it, but as a student of kinesiology she could see the tension in his body as she walked up and sat next to him. She wanted to be casual about it, not knowing what to say, but knowing she needed to say something, even if it was the wrong thing.

So, she asked if he was drunk, small talk, which was not her fortey, and when he answered she was overwhelmed by the tone in his voice. She wished more than anything she was better at this, at knowing how to help. But, she wasn't, she could only stumble through and hope that the fact that she was there would count for something, that it would be enough.

Jaw ticking, his frustration flared when she mentioned that Hannah called. While he said he was over it, over her, nothing about his reaction confirmed that. Blinking, over and over, he wrestled for control of his emotions, choking them back as best he could. She watched him fight, trying to keep tears from falling. This strong stoic man, her partner, her friend, the only man she ever wanted to love, ever allowed herself to love. All she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and comfort him. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out anyway to let him know she was there for him short of saying it outright which seemed contrived.

"So, what happens next?"

Her question was quiet and hesitant and she regretted asking it even as it passed over her lips. Under normal circumstances he'd school his own emotions, considering her need above his own. Patiently, he'd explain what was happening, what he was feeling, and why. He couldn't do that for her, not this time. Pulling her eyes away, she found herself looking anywhere but directly at him as resentment rose up within him and quelled his tears.

He was angry, he said so, and she could see it, but she saw more than that when she looked at him, felt it too. Underneath his hard exterior, his visible ire, she saw pain, he was hurting. It filled her with rage, not toward him, toward Hannah on his behalf. This was the very thing she warned her about when she first arrived in DC and it happened just as she feared it would. Booth gave his all to Hannah and now he was suffering because of it.

Hannah wasn't there for him to direct his anger at, she would be gone from his apartment soon and halfway around the world by tomorrow. Good riddance. Rebecca was an old wound, he figured out a long time ago that her refusal was for the best, just as Pops warned him. Plus, she was the mother of his child and like it or not he needed to maintain a working relationship with her. Which left Bones, sitting right there beside him, the woman he loved the most, who refused him then changed her goddamn mind. Tangled in the middle of his heartstrings, no matter where he started it ended with her. The whys and what ifs she inspired fueled this whole mess.

In his quiet rage, with the tremble of heavy emotion in his voice, he drew new lines limiting their relationship to partners only. Partners. That was her only choice. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as he definitively laid it out for her, there was no room for interpretation. She could stay and have a drink with him as his partner and nothing else or she could leave and they would be over, he'd find her a new partner. Her choice.

She would never leave.

So, she stayed, no more mention of Hannah or her or relationships. He put up a good front, acting like there was nothing else going on, though she watch it boil just underneath the surface. And when he was done, she drove him home.

He was staggering by the time they got to his apartment. Leaning on her heavily in the elevator, he didn't say anything when she took the keys out of his hands and opened the front door for him. Partners. Partners did that for one another, she reassured herself, already fearful she'd inadvertently cross the line. He'd done it for her on more than one occasion. She would do it for him.

Booth stopped short after entering his apartment. It was different, darker, colder somehow. And even though Hannah didn't come with much and left with everything, it felt so much emptier. All that stamped down emotion rose right back up. He started to rant, barely comprehensible, but loud and biting.

"You, you, you did this." He was mumbling and she was trying her best to understand. "This, this is you, it's all...it's all you." He made a broad sweeping motion, seemingly pointing to everything in his apartment then stopped and looked right at her. "It was so hot, Bones, so...so...so goddamn hot. I forgot, you know, I forgot."

Pausing, he just looked at her. He forgot, when he reenlisted, he forgot how lonely the military was, though he wasn't about to tell her that, he wasn't that drunk. Closing his eyes momentarily, he continued.

"I forgot how...how...how hot… all that sand...it's gets so goddamn hot." Her eyes grew wide, his pain so evident. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, not sure whether to say something or just listen. "And...and...you didn't...nothing...I got nothing...right? Nothing from you. You...you….left me."

"Booth." Just a whisper, barely audible, but he heard it and shouted in response.

"NO….No….You left, you lef me...and...and...and then you change your mind like it was nothing, like...like...like I was nothing. What was I supposed to do, Bones? What, tell me what?"

He stopped abruptly, walked across the room, picked up a picture of him and Hannah in front of the Lincoln Memorial, and just stared at it.

"Booth."

She wanted to apologize, he could hear it in the way she said his name. Looking up from the picture, he caught her eyes, holding them captive. It seemed like forever, they stood there in his dimly lit apartment, eyes locked. She shifted her weight back and forth, nervous, she pulled her teeth across her lip. He gripped that picture tighter and tighter, trying to control his emotions, until the frame snapped in his hands, glass and wood splintering, fell around his feet.

"Why? For godsakes, why? Why...I don't...I just...why...why wasn't I good enough, Bones? Why?"

Looking down at the broken glass, he dropped what was left of the frame and the pictures, stepping over the mess on the way to his bedroom. He was through the door in only a few steps and she was right behind him.

"Booth."

But she was too late. Turning, he looked straight at her, then slammed the door in her face.

He was so tired. Turning his back to the door, he meant to strip and crawl right into bed, but he didn't. He stayed there, letting his body go limp against the hardwood and his eyes close. He just needed to breath, just breath, and then he'd go to bed.

Stepping forward until she was toe to toe with the door, she reached out and put her hand on it. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she let out a heavy sigh, and just stood there for what seemed like forever. There was so much she wanted to say, but no one to say it to. It didn't matter, she decided, she needed to say it anyway. She wasn't loud, didn't yell to make sure she was heard, but she wasn't quiet either, she wasn't trying to hide behind a whisper.

"I'm so sorry, Booth. I never meant to hurt you." Her voice shuttered, her breath ragged and weak left her stumbling over her words. "It...it was never you...I…I...was just scared. I was afraid you wanted something I couldn't give you, something I didn't think I was capable of and the thought of hurting you...of me causing you pain because of my own shortcomings...how could I let that happen?"

He was sure she didn't know he could hear her, but it was an old apartment with thin walls and a transom window above the door. He heard her, every word. Holding his breath, he listened, trying hard not to move or make a sound. He didn't want her to know he was right there on the other side of the door. He didn't want her to change what she had to say because she knew he was listening.

"I'm not good at this, at people and relationships, I know that. You know that. And you deserved so much more than me, so much more than what I thought I could give you." Letting her head fall against the door with a soft thud, she gasped for air, desperately trying to get the rest of what she wanted to say out through her quiet sobs. "You...you...you deserve all the things you want, Booth, someone who can love you like you loved me, someone that can make you happy."

Squeezing her eyes shut, she pushed herself to finish, to say everything she wanted him to know but could never say to his face.

"That's what I wanted for you. You deserve that, more than that, you deserve more than me." He felt it, the physical pain of her words rang through his body. "I was scared, Booth, I thought I was protecting you, I just wanted to protect you, but it didn't matter, I hurt you anyway."

She stayed there a minute before standing up straight, brushed the tears from her cheeks, and took a deep breath letting it out in one quick huff of air. That was it, all she had left. Grabbing her bag, she left, closing the door softly behind her and locking it.

He let her go. Pushing off the door, he striped, crawling into his cold, empty bed. He just wanted it to be over, the whole horrible night. It didn't take long to fall asleep even though he was restless and he slept hard, thanks to the alcohol.

Night became early morning, early morning turned into midday, he woke, no miracle, everything was just the same as when he went to sleep. It would be for awhile, he knew that, having been through it too many times. Eventually the anger would go away and the pain would ease. Maybe then he'd think about all the stuff Bones said to him through the door.

But, not today.

ooooo0ooooo

A/N: I know...it's awful...and I'm sorry for that. If it's any consolation I am posting this today (early) so that I can post the next chapter on Thursday. I didn't want to leave you lovely and loyal readers hanging too long on the sad note this chapter ends on. I'm having an angiogram on Friday (I know it's a routine procedure but I'm still nervous) and I don't want to be worrying about posting the next chapter this weekend.

Please leave a review, this chapter has me anxious, I know it was a rough one but they've hit bottom now and will start to fight their way up from here. I promise, if you stick with me on this and the reward will be worth it. I just think this was a process for them, not a quick fix where they fell easily into each other's arms, although, secretly I wanted that to be the way it happened. There are some chapters where it seems like I'm going episode by episode through the season. I'm not, in fact the next chapter isn't tied to any episode, and there will be more chapters like that to come.

Thank you to snowybones who is worth her weight in chocolate (more valuable than gold in my book) She's been a trooper through this story, always offering up great help and encouragement.

Thank you for all the support for this story, I've really enjoyed reading your reviews and private messages (going to try and answer some of those today). Every time I get a new follow or favorite I smile. It all keeps me posting! Whether you loved this chapter or are forming an angry mob complete with pitchforks and torches, let me know. I love the feedback!

Much love

~DG