Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea.
Author's Note: So this is it, the grand finale. I hope it isn't too angsty for you. As always, I love to hear what you guys think, so keep the reviews coming in.
Author's Note 2: I have to say special thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story so far – your words of encouragement mean a lot. Also, thank you to Bella Loony for all her hard work in beta reading. And, last but not least, thank you to all the Boothy Bunch for their support and to the guys at the 'Yard who reviewed there. You're an amazing group of people!
The early morning sky was grey with bilious clouds hung low and heavy with unshed rain. The fall weather suited my mood perfectly as I stood in solemn silence, looking out at the rainbow of lights that lit the city. I watched as the traffic signals at the end of my street flashed from red to green and then back to red, their symphony of colors playing to nobody but me.
I took a sip of coffee from the mug clutched between my icy cold hands. The black liquid burnt a path down my throat and rested heavy on my stomach. Almost immediately I felt acid rise in my throat, and I swallowed hard as I set the mug down and went in search of Pepto-Bismol.
The clock in my kitchen told me it was a quarter to seven. In just over three hours the task I had been set – far worse than any I had faced in the laboratory – would begin. With a heavy heart I headed for a shower.
Hot needles stung my skin as I turned the heat up as high as I could stand it. I allowed the water to cascade down my cold skin, although it did little to warm my cold heart. I reluctantly climbed out fifteen minutes later, my skin scrubbed and shiny and smelling of soap. Wrapped in a soft, fluffy towel that smelt of fabric softener I headed to my bedroom.
I kept my formal wear tucked away at the back of my closet, bringing out for court days and funerals. I flicked through the hangers and eventually settled on a black v-neck afghan sweater and a black knee length pencil skirt. I pulled out a pair of black open-toed shoes, and gathered my underwear from the bureau opposite my bed.
I dressed listening to the silence that resounded around my apartment. It buzzed around my ears like a bluebottle around a corpse, and I strained to make out the sound of the clock ticking and a tap dripping. After I had successfully put on the third pair of tights without putting my nail through them I slipped on my shoes and headed back towards the kitchen, my stomach growling.
The fridge held little in the way of food, the shelves covered mostly by bottles of beer and water. A carton of Chinese food had been shoved to the far back of the bottom shelf, and my nose wrinkled as I retrieved it and tossed it into the trash. Closing the fridge door I opted for a toasted bagel instead, unconcerned that they were stale and past their date. I ate hungrily but my mouth felt dry, and I washed it down with a glass of orange juice. My stomach growled and I reached for the Pepto-Bismol again.
At nine I reached for my jacket and umbrella from the rack by the front door. In fifteen minutes Angela and Jack would be picking me up from outside my building, and I needed to be ready and waiting. I kept myself busy brushing lint from my jacket. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach and I thought about anything other than the task I was facing.
At exactly a quarter past nine I was waiting outside my building. The rush hour traffic had dissipated somewhat, and I watched the remaining traffic as it sped by. A car horn beeped a couple of times and I looked up in time to see a black SUV roll to a stop a few yards up from me. I walked towards it on shaky legs as Angela climbed out.
"Morning, Sweetie. Did you sleep okay?" She caught me up in a tight embrace and I breathed in the scent of perfume and hair lacquer.
"I'm fine, Ange," I replied as I pulled back. I climbed into the car and settled back against the seat. Jack nodded at me and smiled through the rear view mirror. I returned it with a tight smile of my own.
We drove in silence, lost in our own thoughts. I stared out the window, watching as buildings rolled by and gave way to trees and parkland. The car slowed and I could make out the grave markers that resembled tiny white pebbles as we pulled into Arlington National Cemetery.
A handful of cars lined the grassy knoll alongside the road that led us down the spine of the cemetery. Jack pulled in behind them and we climbed out. I could make out the funeral car at the front of the line, could see the uniformed officers waiting to carry out the sombre task of carrying the coffin to the grave. A lump formed in my throat and I was thankful for Angela's arm wrapped through mine as we weaved our way towards the crowd gathered around the opened earth.
We made our way towards the back of the crowd to the shelter of a majestic oak displaying its rich fall colors. A smattering of leaves carpeted the soft grass, and they crunched underfoot as we gathered in a huddle. Angela slipped her hand into mine, her other reaching out to take hold of Jacks. She regarded him with a small smile and rested her head on his shoulder.
The sudden drum roll sounded like distant thunder, and I watched as the uniformed officers heaved the coffin out of the car and made a path through the headstones to where we were gathered. The stars and stripes covering the coffin caught on the breeze and billowed, and one of the officers used a free hand to hold it down.
I heard a strangled sob as the coffin was set down and looked up in time to see a grey-haired woman step forward and collapse on her knees at the side of the coffin. She lowered her head until it rested on top of the coffin, and her wailing drowned out the sombre words of the officiant. She was joined by a man of similar age who stood behind her, his hands gripping her shoulders, his own tears of grief matching her own. Suddenly embarrassed at having witnessed such a display of private grief, I lowered my head.
I lifted it again as the crowd roused and began making their way back towards their cars. The kneeling woman was led away, her sobs echoing through the silence around us. We waited in our own private group until all but one of the mourners had left. Angela placed a hand on my arm, tears shining in her wide eyes.
"We'll wait for you in the car."
I watched as they walked away, nodding their heads in polite acknowledgment of the man stood by the coffin. I stood still for a moment, waiting until they had climbed into the SUV, watching as the man took something from his pocket and placed it on the coffin. His head dipped in silent prayer, and I didn't move forward until I saw it rise again.
He looked up as I approached, chocolate eyes red-rimmed and cheeks flushed from tears. "He was my best friend." His voice was strained and shaky.
"I know." My own voice was tight and quiet. I dug my cold hands deep into my pockets.
"It should be me laying there, not him." He was edging on hysteria, and I reached out a hand and placed it on his arm.
"You shouldn't say things like that." Anger swirled in the pit of my stomach. I didn't want him to say things like that, couldn't force my brain into imagining such a scenario.
He sighed. "We trained together, you know. That was how we met. He'd been so excited, so willing to die for his country. I wonder if he ever imagined that one day he would." He slipped his hand in mine and turned to face me. "Thank you."
My eyebrows furrowed. "For what?"
"For being here today." His other hand reached out and cupped my cheek. "It means a lot to have you with me."
"I wouldn't be anywhere else." A gentle rain began to fall. I realised I had left my umbrella in Jack's car. I tugged on his hand slightly, motioning for him to stand under the tree I had left moments before. He followed and caught me in a tight embrace.
"I love you, Temperance Brennan." His voice was muffled as he pressed his lips to my forehead in a kiss.
I smiled and tightened my arms around his waist. "And I love you too, Seeley Booth." I pulled back and looked into his eyes as I released a hand and pressed it against his chest, against the puckered scar lay hidden underneath his clothes. "Thank you for coming back to me."
We stood in the rain, holding each other, thankful that we were together after 15 months, two weeks and five days apart. We stayed that way until the rain subsided and the grey clouds parted. Then, with lighter hearts, we walked hand in hand from the cemetery, ready to begin the next chapter of our lives. Together.