"I am going to ignore your allegations. Tell me something, Dr. Brennan: Are you going to take any responsibility for the situation you're in?"
Brennan leaned back in her chair, unconsciously mimicking Booth's posture as she fixed herself in the right corner of it, defensive. She was aware of her role in her current predicament, but it started with Sweets - he set them down this path.
"I can address your interpretations of my behavior, as you derisively regard them, but this interview isn't about me. It's about you and Booth. Now, you can both sit here and insist this dissolution is about your new commitments, but I'm not interested in allowing yourself to lie to yourselves or each other. The sooner you admit that this is about your relationship, the sooner you can leave this room and move on with your separate lives."
Brennan stole a glance at Booth. He detected her gaze and met her eyes, watching her with resignation. He looked tired to Brennan- weary, sad, frustrated, angry, defeated, disappointed. Despite the energy she poured into maintaining her composure, she was sure she looked no different to him. She struggled with resentment- resenting Booth, resenting herself, resenting Sweets. She wanted to punish them and herself, but she also wanted to mend their friendship. She never wanted to injure Booth- she wanted to spare him from a greater pain she could not avoid inflicting if they entered into a romantic relationship.
She looked down into her lap, and then at Sweets. Sighing deeply, she finally conceded. "While my new work commitments are significant in my decision, I am no longer willing to work with the FBI if I cannot work with Booth. I am incompatible with the other agents, as evidenced by prior temporary replacements and social interactions." She could feel Booth's eyes on her, but could not bring herself to meet them.
"Thank you, Dr. Brennan. Agent Booth? Leaving aside your other obligations- why are you leaving the FBI?"
"I cannot work with Dr. Brennan any longer," she heard him admit, but the resolution in his voice was only a facsimile of his normal conviction. Nevertheless, the words elicited synaptic communication for a sensation she could only describe as grief.
Sweets nodded slowly, looking between the two of them. "Any particular reason?"
Booth was silent for an unendurable minute. "I've moved on. I cannot afford to be drawn back into…" he searched for the words, and she heard him turn towards her. She looked at him as he spoke, but could not maintain eye contact as he continued, "I'm done Bones. Our partnership- our friendship- it can't recover from this."
Brennan opened her mouth to speak, but Sweets interjected, "From what, Agent Booth?"
She saw him glare at Sweets, and then at her. "From rejection, Brennan. I gambled. I lost. That hurt- but we tried to move past it. Then you run away because we couldn't perfectly preserve the relationship we had before? Then, nothing from you, for an entire year, even after I reached out to you when you didn't deserve it." His tone was becoming increasingly frustrated and his voice was elevated, "When I came to you to tell you about training snipers, I hadn't committed yet, but I wanted to give you time, I wanted to talk about it—but you? You couldn't give me the smallest courtesy or notice about your trip until you were confronted with the possibility that I might leave too. Why, Brennan? Was it because I was moving on? Just like you told me too? You can't have your cake and eat it, too, Brennan. You can't reject me, tell me to move on and then expect me to pine after you or tolerate jealousy. You can't expect me to be ok with the fact that you didn't care enough to call or e-mail or anything and then expect us to work together just like we always were. You know what? At this point, I don't even care. Is that good enough for you, Sweets? "
Brennan could feel the tears welling in her eyes and she tried to fight them off. She knew that she had made mistakes. She knew she needed to shoulder some of the blame, but…then, he scoffed at her again. He lit the fuse, and she exploded.
"What did you want me to do, Booth? Did you want me to pretend like I can believe in your definition of love when all I can think about when I look at you is complementary immunoprofiles, dopamine, vasopressin, oxytocin, mating strategies, and what your facial structure reveals about your genetic fitness? Did you want me to tell you that I could give you 30, 40 or 50 years when I can't? Evolutionarily, the average human relationship lasts seven years, just long enough for the man to extract two or three children from the woman until the youngest is age two or three. This allows him to invest the minimum number of resources for the highest return to his reproductive success. Did you want me to just forget this? That in seven years, you and I will be nearly incapable of continuing our relationship? I took a gamble, too, Booth-a gamble that our friendship would last longer than our romantic relationship. You're not the only one that lost." She felt a lone tear fall down her face and she wiped it away quickly, furious for what it revealed. She turned away from him, unable to face the pity in his softening features.
"I wasn't asking you to change, Brennan. I didn't care what you called it, I just wanted you to share it with me- one day a time. You weren't willing, though, and I accepted that, but don't fool yourself into believing you were protecting me from anything because you weren't- not when you rejected me, not when you went to South Africa, not when you didn't communicate with me at all for a year. You were protecting yourself."
"I'm sorry, Booth. I just—"
"I'm sorry, too, Brennan, but I can't do this with you anymore."
Brennan nodded silently and skimmed the lower lid beneath her right eye with her finger to remove the impending tears. She hated crying when no one knew she was doing it. She hated it more when Booth and Sweets were watching. It was an admission of grief- more grief than Booth was bearing because he continued to look only defeated. It was an admission that she was feeling the sting of his rejection. It was wrenching in her chest. She closed her eyes, briefly, mentally compartmentalizing her emotions until they were all packed away. "Can we go now, Dr. Sweets?" she spoke, "You should have sufficient information for your report."
Dr. Sweets looked between the two of them, wearing both awe and confusion as he, too, tried to put together what had transpired between herself and Booth. "Yes , but I would like you to stay. I believe that you can repair this relationship and work together again." He held his hand up, anticipating their mutual objections, "This is because you neither require the other as a relationship surrogate and because you have other obligations. If you have both truly moved on as you insist, then, with time, you will be a stronger team because of it. "
Brennan looked to him, allowing herself the smallest piece of hope. She wondered if he could see it. "Booth-we are the center," she started, but he cut her off.
"Don't, Brennan. The center crumbled a long time ago." Booth got up and walked to the door, pulling down on the handle despite knowing it was locked. "Time to let me go," he said to both of them. Brennan took a deep breath, fighting the pain of a second rejection. Recognizing that he would be as unyielding as she had been to him, and that she deserved it, she pulled the crumbled letter from her bag. As she approached him, he gestured for the guards to unlock the door. Booth was gone before she could turn around.
She extended her hand with the letter, offering to to Sweets. He held his hand up in refusal, "Take some time, Dr. Brennan. I'll accept it from you after the conference is over."
A/N: A second thank you for the reviews. I really do appreciate them, whether it's a brief, "I love it, post more," or "Proofread, please!" On the latter note, anyone who has an eye for this sort of thing is welcome to send me a message. I know I need a Beta.