Dear all, thank you again for all your reviews and thank you also for your patience. I can't really post more than once a week, but I do my very best to be regular and make this story progress on a weekly basis. I absolutely don't want to be as lousy as Fox (shame on you Fox!). Yeah, I am totally pi###d by the constant pre-emptions.
So, I loved to write this chapter. Hope you like it too.
As usual I own nothing and earn nothing.
A note for Mahin, who was bothered by this line in chapter 5 "The good news was that out of the 80 plus skeletons of the mass grave, only 15 were recognised as non Afghan." I did not mean that it is a good thing that so many Afghans had died, nor that it is better to have them die rather than Americans. It meant that Brennan went on this mission to help find 25 marines who were missing, and with this calculation she could still hope that 10 were alive somewhere. If she had found the remains of all of them, that meant no more hope.
In any case, my intention here is to just show how horrible war is, because it spreads death, despair and sorrow with full hands and to all the parties involved. But that it cannot dissolve and erase the humanity of good people and hope for a better future for the ones who find themselves involved with it, regardless of the color of their flags.
Peace to all.
Grev
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Chapter 9
December 2nd Washington D.C.
Two military men were standing at his door, sad faces, hats in their hands. How many times he had witnessed the same scene? That was the standard procedure to inform families about the death of their loved ones at war. His colleagues were just staring disbelieved.
"Agent Seeley Booth?"
Booth nodded. His voice had died in his throat.
"You are listed as the nearest contact person in the file of Doctor Temperance Brennan. May we come in?".
Booth closed the door, and stood there without moving or reaching his desk and his chair. Every single muscle was tense, his heart was beating wildly, his jaw clenched. He prepared himself to receive the hit.
"Agent Booth, we need to inform you that Doctor Brennan is currently in Kabul, in our military hospital." They paused long enough to allow Booth to swallow the knot in his throat.
"She has been rescued from a kidnapping and has been found seriously injured. You need to give your consent to the surgery". They handed him a brief medical statement. He only distinguished the words stab wounds and hysterectomy. He also read that his signature was required because Brennan had been conscious and she had herself denied it. But her conditions had shortly after deteriorated and she was currently lying in and induced coma.
Doctors thought it was time that someone else, someone appointed by her had to make the final decision.
The relief of knowing she was alive and that she had been rescued was immediately replaced by panic. Brennan was not safe, she was in critical conditions and he had to make a decision on something he was totally ignorant of.
"I want to talk to the doctors, before I can sign these papers".
The two men left him alone and waited outside. Booth called Cam.
"Cam.. what is a hysterectomy?"
"Hallo Booth, what an unusual way to greet" She said smiling. However Cam immediately sensed the urgency and seriousness of the question.
"It's the technical term for the surgery performed to remove the uterus. Why?"
"Oh God.."
"Booth, what's wrong. Who needs a hysterectomy?"
Booth took a deep breath and explained everything to Cam, reading out loud exactly what was written on the paper he got from the military doctors.
"Booth, the doctors are apparently considering that the lesions to her uterus from the knife blade are at risk to break again any moment, and Brennan would die of bleeding. But you told me she had already denied her consent, right?"
"Yeah.. I cannot let her die Cam, but I'm not in a position to decide whether this surgery is really necessary or that maybe something else can be done to save her and avoid the hysterectomy".
"Booth, I feel that the military doctors are not gynecologists and might underestimate the latest surgical techniques to suture a uterus preserving at maximum the functionality. On the other hand we need to assess exactly how sever the lesions are and what is the current risk of Doctor Brennan bleeding out."
Booth passed his hand through his hair and down on his worried face.
"What should I do then?"
Cam strong and valuable leadership skills and her solid professional preparation saved Booth.
"Give me the number of the doctors in Kabul, I need to ask them additional questions and get more details on Brennan's medical file. I will then consult a friend of mine who is a top gynecologist and come back to you as fast as I can, ok?"
"Thanks Cam, thank you, really".
"Don't even mention it Booth. We all want Doctor Brennan back home safe and healthy."
While Booth waited for her final advice, he didn't lose one second to arrange what needed to be done.
December 2nd Kabul
Everything was hazy around her. She could feel the pain but also the peace, as if everything had been done and she just could relax and wait. Wait for what, she could not be so sure. Death? She could remember shouts, arms carrying her, definitely the loud whoosh of a chopper. She had felt paramedics working on her and she was still conscious when they extracted the knife from her abdomen. Brennan could remember hearing herself scream from the pain.
As soon as she had arrived in the hospital in Kabul, the doctors had immediately transfused her extra blood and prepared her for the surgery. They were able to suture as much as they could, but they had also assessed the gravity of her wound. The knife had cut through the lateral side of her uterus, leaving a long open gash in the organ and had completely severed her right tube. Her intestine as well had a through and through rip, but that damage could be easily repaired.
Afraid of her unstable conditions and the risk of her bleeding, the surgeon had told her, the moment she had woken up in intensive care, that it was safer if she would authorize him to perform a hysterectomy.
"Doctor Brennan, I am sorry to inform you that your uterus has been badly damaged by the blade, and that in any case this will prevent you from carrying out a pregnancy in the future. Not to mention that you have lost a tube, and as you are aware, it means you have therefore lost 50% of your fertility. You are still very weak and the suture in you uterus could break any moment endangering your life. I'm really sorry, but I strongly suggest we remove it and avoid the risk"
Brennan felt as if a train was hitting her, taking away her breath and her rationality and composure with it. But she felt the urge to fight back, regain her logic and make the most rational decision regarding her own body. She tried to calculate statistical percentages of success versus risk factors, tried to briefly convincing her that in any case she could perfectly live without a uterus.
But she was too weak to think straight, too exhausted to calculate figures and too frightened to allow her logical will power convince her to let them open, chop and mutilate her body.
"I don't want you to do it. Just suture the wound, I think I can make it"
"But Doctor Brennan, you are seriously endangering your life with this decision, not to mention the fact that you will not be able to carry a child, in any case. The damage was too extended. I'm sorry, just allow us to make a hysterectomy."
"No, I.. I can't".
Brennan had closed her eyes and had suffocated her pain, disappointment and sorrow in bitter tears. The strengths were leaving her and she just wished, with all her heart, that she could feel Booth's touch on her face, on her arm, is hand over hers. His voice telling her that everything was going to be all right.
She had remained stable for a couple of hours, until an internal bleeding made her blood pressure collapse and she slipped into unconsciousness again.
The doctors could stop the bleeding but had immediately retrieved her file to find out who was the person responsible to decide for her.
December 3rd Kabul
His eyes were burning after spending so many hours in the dry air conditioned of the plane and the lack of sleep. He rubbed them with the back of his hand and continued to walk fast. Just a few hours before, he didn't even know if Brennan was still alive and now he had finally landed in the city where she was, just a few extra minutes of distance. Booth could not contain his impatience any longer.
The moment he stepped out of the airport, a marine approached him stretching his hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Agent Booth. My name is Tony Scalia, I will take you immediately to the hospital, it's only a few miles from here.".
And then looking Booth straight in the eyes he added "I was with her until she was taken by the Talibans. Remarkable woman, we are all very fond of her".
Booth nodded but inside a strong wave of longing just hit his heart.
She had been away for so long, she had met people, lived with them, she had been held captive, she had been hurt and injured. His life with her, working together, hanging out in the evenings with her, eating his pie with her, bickering and secretly loving it, it all seemed so far away, as if it belonged to a different life, to different people.
He was sure he had never missed her before as much as he was missing her now, wanting her now, wanting to be physically close to her and never ever be apart again.
"I once asked her if she wanted to join our morning prayer group" Tony's words brought Booth back to earth "because I saw she was wearing a catholic medal and I assumed she was religious" The marine laughed.
"Did she kick you back instead?" Asked Booth, being amused himself, picturing the scene in his mind.
"No, she explained that a loved one had given her the medal, to feel him close. And it worked, it always works" He told Booth showing him his own medal.
"Yeah, I know" a smirk growing on his face.
The moment he arrived at the hospital, Booth had to pass through controls and protocols, identify himself and wait for someone to take him to Brennan. Petty Officer Scalia remained by his side all the time.
A young doctor came within fifteen minutes, carrying a folder and introducing himself to Booth.
They all went to an office and sat down, except for Booth who remained stubbornly standing.
"Why are we here. I want to see Doctor Brennan first".
"She is still unconscious, is in ICU and had a rough night. Better let her rest. I want to go with you through her medical records first and Officer Scalia here can also explain what happened and why she got injured. We think it's better than you know before you see her state".
"I want to see her first. Just see her. Then you can have all my time and explain anything you want from me." His arms crossed against his chest sent the other two the message that he was adamant about it.
"Ok.. just.. expect that she is not in good shape and that she had just been rescued from captivity".
Why were they warning him? Was she so badly hurt?
And then finally they stopped in front of a door, and made sign to him that he could go ahead. "Just a few minutes, we will be waiting here. Don't wake her up if she is still out".
He gripped the door handle much tighter than he intended and entered the room.
It was a silent room, three bed and three people lying still, attached to their beeping machines monitoring heart beats, alerting about their life signals.
In the last bed he saw her, recognizing her hair.
"Oh my God, Bones" whispered within himself.
Her usual brown and mahogany hair was a of a dirt color of dust, dirty and messy. It was evident that during the weeks she had been hostage she did not have access to water and some basic toiletries.
He noticed, gulping hard, that she had hematomas on her face, sign that she had been fighting. And on the side without swelling, he could notice her cheek bones were more prominent, undoubted sign that she had lost weight and therefore she had suffered from lack of food.
Her hands were scratched and her knuckles bruised, another sign of her fight.
Booth felt a surge of rage, thinking about the bastard who has tried to kill her, punching her face and stabbing her in the abdomen.
But she was there, she was breathing, he could hear the rhythm of her heart beat from the machine, see her ribcage softly rising and falling.
He had been waiting for more than a month, plenty of sleepless nights, restless day hours, for this moment, when he could finally stretch an arm and touch her, feel her skin under his palms, feel her presence. If only he could see her eyes, those beautiful deep eyes, that contained the universe and with it his soul too.
He leaned very close to her, caressing her hair with his full right hand, kissing her forehead where it was not bruised, gently grabbing her hand with his left one and rubbing softly his thumb on her cold skin.
Brennan didn't move, the machines didn't show any increased heart pace but Booth could feel a sort of reaction to his touch, like a small imperceptible stir of her shoulders and neck.
And she opened her eyes. They were red and dull, probably she had a good amount of drugs in her system. But by the way they were looking at him, Booth was sure she was seeing him even though maybe still half unconscious.
"I'm right here, Bones, don't worry about a thing, shhh, it's ok, you can sleep and rest." He whispered in her ear and then kissing her forehead again.
"I got you back and I'm staying here with you, until I can take you home. Ok?"
She didn't answer or made any move, but kept her hazy stare on him.
Until she said "It hurts".
"I know Bones, I know. And I'm sorry you are in pain. I'll talk to the doctors and ask them to give you something for it"
She didn't show, again, any reaction to his words, Booth started to be unsure whether she was really hearing him or understanding what he was saying. But he could feel her relax under his touch, since his caresses on her head and hand had not stopped.
She closed her eyes, as slowly as she had opened them, just a tear escaped out of her eyelids and rolled down her cheek. The monitor and the machine continued to give back the steady and unchanged rhythm of her heart.
Booth caught and wiped the tear with his thumb. His heart half aching and half exploding of joy.
"I love you Temperance, I love you more than my own life"
He surprised even himself with this genuine outburst from his heart that he had no power whatsoever to stop.
Could she hear him? He was not sure. What was sure, was that for the first time in four years he had the courage to let his heart be honest and talk out loud over his feelings for her. And he discovered that now that this truth had been said, those words have been freed up in the air, he didn't want to stop saying them.
And with it, he realized also that there was no way for him to go back home to his life keeping this truth hidden inside and absolutely no way that he could ever live again without her.
She seemed to be back in her drug induced sleep, and he had a long talk still to do with the two men who were outside waiting for him.
He removed the ring from his chain, and slipped it on to her finger, where it had belonged before she had given it to him.
This way, if she was going to wake up before he was back, she was not going to have any doubt that indeed he had been there and had come for her.
He felt sorry to let go of her hand and missed the contact the moment it broke, but he also needed to understand what had happened to her and what was her health condition, so with a last kiss and another "I love you" whispered in her ear, he left her to her quiet sleep and exited the room.
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Sooo... Brennan did not die. Of course she did not. I believe in the positive energy of fiction, not my intention to depress people reading my stories.
In this virtual world, love has to win it all. ;-)
What did Booth decide in the end? Did he over rule Brennan? Will it have consequences? Will Brennan be able to handle the fact that she has killed another woman, almost a girl, with bare hands? A woman that had her same face, carried the same sorrows in her heart?
Stay tuned and we will get there.
As usual, if you push the button below and leave me your comments, you can be sure to make me happy. And don't forget to tell me what you did not like as well (if any). It helps the creative process.
Take care,
Grev
