Well, folks, this is the end of the road! My creative process started about ten months ago with my first ever fanfiction, and it has gone so much farther than I ever expected! Writing and sharing this series has been a wonderful experience, and I'm so very grateful for all of your wonderful feedback. Whether it was reviews, PMs, or tweets, you guys kept me motivated. I truly hope you enjoy these final scenes. They were very fulfilling to write.
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Epilogue
Part 7
Booth gazed down at his wife with a soft expression. For the past few weeks, she hadn't been able to sleep for more than a few hours at a time. Whether it was back pain, hip pain, or heartburn, there was always something making her too uncomfortable to really rest. She'd taken to sleeping in an almost completely upright position in an effort to cope with the heartburn, and this wasn't the first time he'd woken to discover that she'd abandoned their bed for the recliner in the living room. Booth was glad that her pregnancy would be over soon. As much as he loved seeing her carrying his child, he hated to see her in pain.
He took the lightweight throw blanket from the back of the loveseat and stretched it gently over her, brushing his lips across her forehead before settling on the couch. Booth knew that his back would be aching the next morning, but he wanted to be near her. Sleeping in their bed alone simply felt wrong.
Brennan woke earlier than usual the next morning and took a moment to get her bearings. She'd momentarily forgotten her relocation to the living room, and she glanced at the couch reflexively, unsurprised to see her husband still asleep there. She smiled and shook her head ruefully, hauling herself to her feet as carefully as possible. The shift in her center of gravity had brought about an unwelcome clumsiness that had landed her on her backside more than once.
A quick glance at the clock told her that she'd once again woken far earlier than necessary, so she decided to make a decent breakfast for them after getting ready for work. Booth was just beginning to stir when Brennan returned downstairs, and he opened his eyes to see her perched gingerly on the coffee table with two ibuprofen and a glass of water in her hands. She lifted her eyebrows as if daring him to argue with her, but he merely smiled in thanks and took the pills.
"I wish you'd stop doing that," she said blandly.
"I want to be nearby in case you need anything," Booth shrugged, flinching a little at the twinge of pain caused by the unconscious movement.
"It's silly for both of us to be in pain, Booth. And it looks like I'll be moving around faster than you today."
"It's worth it. I hate sleeping without you."
"Maybe we should move the recliner to the bedroom," Brennan mused, kissing him good morning before standing to return to the kitchen.
"That's a great idea, Bones. I'll do that tonight. Parker will be here, so I'll need to stay upstairs anyway."
While Booth got showered and dressed for work, Brennan threw a few things together for breakfast. The end of her morning sickness had also been the end of her habit of skipping the morning meal. By the time Booth came back downstairs, she'd made scrambled eggs with cheese, oatmeal, and toast, and he pouted inwardly for a brief moment over the loss of his beloved bacon. He hoped that her aversion to the smell would end with her pregnancy.
They carpooled to work each day now that Brennan was too big to fit comfortably behind the wheel of her car, and Booth walked her all the way to the lab most mornings. This morning, however, he had an early meeting scheduled, so they said their goodbyes in the SUV.
"Call me if you need anything, okay?" he told her, his eyes moving anxiously to her stomach and back to her face. "I'll bring lunch around noon."
"Okay," she smiled placatingly. They spent a few minutes kissing goodbye before she finally managed to extract herself from the vehicle, and Booth waited until she'd disappeared from sight before driving away.
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Brennan glanced at the clock display on her computer monitor and scribbled a number nine on the notepad next to her. She was fairly certain that she was merely experiencing Braxton-Hicks contractions, but since she was thirty-seven weeks pregnant, she knew that true labor could begin at any time. She'd been having similar pains for a few weeks, but they'd been extremely sporadic. The contractions she felt now were at irregular intervals, but the pattern was more consistent than it had been so far.
Booth would be bringing lunch in another half hour, so she decided to wait it out before telling anyone. She kept to her office so that she could more easily track each interval, and by the time Booth strolled in with their Wong Foos take-out, the shortest interval was around eight minutes. They settled on her couch and began to swap cardboard containers in the synchronized way they'd perfected over the years.
"So… I don't want to alarm you…" She kept her voice even, but Booth still looked up from his mee krob with anxious eyes. "...But I've been having some irregular contractions this morning, and-"
"Contractions?" His food was forgotten completely, and his hands moved instinctively to her swollen belly. Brennan hurried to reassure him.
"It's completely normal, Booth. There's no need to panic. I've been tracking them, and it's nothing to worry about right now."
"When did they start?"
"A few hours ago, but-"
"Bones, why didn't you call me?! Come on, we should go to the hospital and get you checked out. Do you have your bag? We should call the doctor…"
Brennan sighed and watched him repack their lunch into the plastic bag. She'd eventually relented on the hospital vs home birth debate, but she was beginning to regret it now. They had compromised by choosing a hospital that allowed mothers more freedom to decide how they labored and gave birth. When the time came, she wouldn't be confined to a bed, laboring in a counterproductive horizontal position. Unless there were complications, she would be permitted to move around as her body needed and even labor in a tub of water if she chose. Brennan knew that she might still end up needing to advocate for her own preferences, but at the moment, she was more worried about Booth. His take-charge personality would only work if they were on the same page.
"Let's just call the doctor, Booth," she said reasonably, certain that they would be told to stay away from the hospital for quite a while yet. She knew that he would take that instruction better if it came from a medical professional. "If she tells us to go to the hospital, then we will, okay? Let's just stay calm."
"Okay," he nodded, heaving a sigh. His hands were shaking as he hit the speed dial he'd programmed for her obstetrician, and Brennan rubbed a soothing hand over his back.
Unfortunately for Brennan, the lunch hour phone prompt at her doctor's office directed Booth to either leave a message or be connected to the emergency service. The emergency operator advised them to play it safe and head to labor and delivery. Brennan sighed dejectedly and allowed her husband to buckle her into the SUV.
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As Brennan expected, she was experiencing Braxton-Hicks contractions as opposed to actual labor, and they were sent home from the hospital after a few hours of monitoring. Under normal circumstances, Booth would've been more disappointed that the baby wouldn't be coming that day, but instead he was gloating a little. He'd succeeded in sweet-talking the obstetrician into supporting his side of the when-to-stop-working argument. Brennan had dug her heels in about working right up to forty weeks, but she'd now been effectively overruled by both her husband and her doctor. She was already two centimeters dilated and fifty percent effaced; her maternity leave would start that very day.
"Thank God," Booth said, his relief obvious. "I was afraid you might actually end up giving birth in the lab."
"At least it would be a sterile environment," Brennan replied, only half-joking.
"Yeah, all the dead bodies are completely sanitary." He rolled his eyes with a grimace and said another silent prayer of thanks that the doctor had been on his side.
Over the next two weeks, Brennan spent her time satisfying her nesting instincts, telecommuting with the lab, and trying to write. She fortunately hadn't struggled with writer's block very often, but she was having a difficult time putting her ideas into words. Brennan eventually gave it up as a lost cause, knowing that she did her best work when the creativity flowed naturally. Booth was still working at the Hoover until five every evening, but he was handing off the majority of the cases to other agents who were in turn consulting with Dr. Edison. The system they'd arranged seemed to be working, and Brennan felt slightly less guilty for abandoning her work.
Unfortunately, the predictable result of so much free time was maddening boredom. She had cleaned every inch of their home, packed and repacked her hospital bag twice, and rearranged the nursery. Booth hadn't been at all pleased to come home and find her moving furniture by herself. Brennan spent one particularly cold December morning visiting Zack, and she was pleased to see that he had settled into a comfortable routine at the facility. The spark was still absent from his eyes, but he didn't seem as depressed as he'd been during those first few months in his new home.
Brennan returned home and ate a quick lunch before deciding to reorganize the baby's clothes and belongings for a third time. It was at least an hour before she realized that the pain of her sporadic 'practice contractions' had now spread to her lower back as well. The tightening of her uterus was more intense than it had been thus far, and she paused in the act of folding a tiny sleeper. Brennan pressed a hand to her bump and felt the distinct difference beneath her skin. The softness was gone, replaced by what felt like concrete over the lower half of her abdomen. She abandoned her menial task and moved to the master bedroom, taking note of the time on the alarm clock when the pain subsided. It was six minutes before she felt another contraction, and it was just as intense as the preceding one. She paced the bedroom floor as she weighed her options.
Brennan knew that it wasn't necessary to go to the hospital until the contractions were three or four minutes apart and about a minute in duration. Her first instinct was to call Booth, but his overzealous reaction to the false labor incident made her hesitate. She knew that this process could potentially take a very long time, especially as it was her first pregnancy, and she wanted to labor at home for as long as possible. Brennan was absolutely certain that one call to Booth would have him panicking and rushing her to the hospital again.
She decided to wait it out for a little while and track her contractions. He'll be home in just a few hours anyway, she reasoned. Brennan puttered around the house, pacing through her contractions and rechecking the hospital bags. She showered and ate a light snack, knowing that it would be a while before she got the opportunity to do so again once they got to the hospital. Brennan's contractions got progressively stronger and began to affect the entire uterus, but they were still roughly five minutes apart. When it became more difficult to breathe through the pain, she decided it was time to call her husband.
"Booth," he answered predictably. She could hear the sound of shuffling papers in the background.
"You need to come home," Brennan said, her voice tight with restraint.
"I'm leaving the office now, baby. Are you okay?" The shuffling stopped.
"Yes, but we need to go to the hospital. Maybe I can… meet you there." The last words came out as a grunt as her pain intensified.
"Whoa, Bones. Breathe, okay?" he coached, fumbling his phone slightly as he sprinted for the elevator. "I'll be right there, just hang on. How far apart are the contractions now?"
"About five minutes. I know we're supposed to wait longer, but by the time you get here…"
"No, you're right. It's time to go. I'll be there as quickly as possible. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?"
"No, you need to focus on driving," she declined, knowing that he would be racing through traffic with the lights and siren on. The last thing they needed right now was for him to have an accident. "I have everything ready to go. Just get here."
"Okay, Bones. You're doing great, baby. I love you so much."
"I love you too," she sighed, relieved as the contraction passed. "See you soon."
Brennan felt better knowing that Booth was on his way, but her reassurance faded quickly when the next contraction came with moisture between her legs. It wasn't the gushing sensation often associated with the breaking of the amniotic sack, but more of a trickle. If she didn't know better, she would've thought she'd lost control of her bladder. Brennan stood rooted in place, slightly shocked by the sudden discomfort. When she realized the mess she was making, she paced stiffly to the master bathroom and tried to clean herself up.
There was no sense in calling Booth again. He was on his way, and if he drove any faster, it would be dangerous. Three contractions later, Brennan was desperate for some kind of pain relief. She filled the tub with warm water and eased herself into it carefully. Her body's natural buoyancy relieved some of the pressure on her back, and the next few contractions were more manageable. Unfortunately, they also accelerated in frequency and duration after her water broke, and she knew instinctively that going to the hospital would no longer be an option. In her haste to find relief, she had left her cell phone on the bathroom counter.
Damn, she cursed inwardly through another crippling pain. Brennan knew she'd misjudged her body by assuming she would have more time. For most women, first-time labor took the better part of twenty-four hours from start to finish. She now felt foolish for having taken that statistic for granted.
"Bones?!" Booth's voice echoed from downstairs and a door slammed shut.
"Up here!" Brennan called back. She heard his thundering footsteps as he took the stairs two at a time.
"What are you doing in the tub? We need to go!" He didn't realize he was shouting until Brennan raised her own voice to be heard over his.
"Booth! Calm down. There's no time for the hospital-"
"What?! No, come on, Bones. We can make it! We just have to hurry." Booth felt his already rapid heart rate skyrocket, and his hands trembled as he knelt next to the tub. Brennan winced in pain as another contraction swelled, and Booth had never felt so helpless.
"I need you to calm down and listen," she said in a strained voice. "I need you to get some towels, a pair of scissors, something to clamp or tie off the cord, and something to suction."
"Are you serious?!" His panic was mounting, but he forced his breathing into a more regular pattern.
"Yes. You can do this. Everything will be fine." It felt slightly odd to be coaching her husband when she was the one in labor, but Brennan needed him to focus. "After you get everything together, call for an ambulance."
"Okay," Booth nodded, reining himself in. "You're doing great, baby. We're gonna be okay." His hands framed her face, and he pressed his lips to her dampened forehead. "I'll be right back."
Booth called the doctor as well as the emergency service while he raced through the house to gather the items Brennan had requested. They didn't have a clamp, but he managed to find a piece of ribbon that should work well enough. He pulled a rubber bulb syringe from the diaper bag as well as a few receiving blankets, adding them to the bundle of items in his arms before running back into the bathroom. Brennan was much the same as he'd left her, but she had drained the tub and seemed to be having more trouble breathing through the pain.
"Ambulance is on its way, and I had the doctor paged. She'll probably be calling back soon. How are we doing?" As he spoke, he placed everything on the floor next to the tub and knelt there again. Booth placed one hand on her head and another on her rigid belly. He had calmed down considerably, but his hands were shaking with suppressed anxiety.
"We're okay," she groaned. He coached her through three more contractions, each coming at a shorter interval and lasting a little longer than the one before. Brennan felt a sensation of immense pressure, and she reached down cautiously to confirm her suspicion. Their son was crowning. "I need to push."
"Okay, baby. You can do this. I'm right here." His words were confident, but his face went white when he saw the baby's head.
"Look at me," Brennan commanded, practically growling. "We're going to be just fine. You can do this too." She took his hand and guided it down to touch their son's head. It felt strange and unexpectedly soft against his fingertips, but the emotional impact was profound. He shook off his fear and helped her to lean forward, curling an arm behind her shoulders.
"Alright, Bones, we're going to push when you feel another contraction, right?" She nodded, and when the pain took over again, she was beyond the power of speech. Brennan curled her body inward around the baby and followed the instinct to push. "You're doing great, baby. Breathe…" He wiped her face with a hand towel after a particularly rough contraction, and he felt overwhelmed by her strength. "You're incredible, Bones. I'm so proud of you."
Brennan gave a low whimper of acknowledgment as another contraction swept over her, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she pushed. It felt like nothing she could have imagined. The pressure was agonizing, but it was as though her body knew precisely what to do. It spasmed and stretched to bring forth new life, and Brennan let out a sob when the baby's shoulders emerged.
"Now, Booth," she instructed. Booth's own instincts took over, and he gently pulled the baby from her body, placing him immediately on his mother's chest. Brennan cried tears of relief and love as she cradled their son against her bare skin. "The suction," she prompted softly. But Booth was already there with the bulb syringe, clearing the baby's airway of remaining fluid. They both rubbed their hands over his soft, wrinkled skin, and the baby let out a cry of protest. The sound was both heart-wrenching and reassuring.
"He's here," Booth said quietly, tears streaming over his cheeks as he held his wife and son in his arms.
Brennan guided him through the steps of tying off and cutting the cord, and when they had managed to clean the baby a little, she brought him to her breast. It took a few moments, but he latched perfectly, and Booth was overwhelmed all over again at the sight of her feeding their son. Some distant part of his mind registered the sounds of paramedics calling out from the front door, but his eyes never left his family.
"Welcome to the world, Henry Joseph Booth."
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Thank you for reading my series! I am forcing myself to take a creative break for at least a couple of weeks before I start writing again. Real life has been busy lately too. Please click the Review button and share your reactions, whether to this chapter or the series as a whole. I know several of you hoped I would continue through all of the seasons, but my Booth and Brennan have evolved so far beyond their actual S4 counterparts that it would be too difficult to continue my established format.
At this point, the plans for my next story are still in the brainstorming phase. I can tell you, however, that it be set in the pre-Jeffersonian days. Booth will be in the military, and Brennan will be helping his unit. But she won't be there to identify remains. :) Sound intriguing? I hope so!
Much love and many thanks,
Christi
