Chapter Nine
Brennan was so angry that she couldn't see straight. Scientifically, she knew her lack of balance and dizziness was due to her exposure to a low oxygen saturated atmosphere for such a prolonged period of time, but she preferred to focus on the rage. It felt safer. If she thought about being buried alive for too long, it was like she was back in that car again. She wasn't sure how that made her feel other than helpless and out of control, but she knew that, for her, animosity was healthier.
Anger was familiar. It was motivating, it was productive if she channeled it against her opponents, and it was reassuring. Nothing made her feel more alive than the adrenaline of her fury, and it helped to numb everything else – her fear and her exhaustion. Though it had been recommended that she stay in the hospital overnight just as a precaution, Brennan had elected to go home. There, she could work, but, in the hospital, she would have been forced to remain in bed and simply watch television which she didn't particular like, sleep which was impossible at that point, or make small talk with the various well-intentioned visitors who stopped by. They would pretend to be sympathetic, but, really, they just would have been checking up on her like she was a child that needed monitored. Just because she had been kidnapped, that did not make her a child.
Plus, she would have had to face Booth. It had thrown her to notice that the person pulling her out of the sand was her former partner. Realistically or not, it had felt like being in that car for less than twenty-four hours had somehow managed to erase everything else that had occurred during the past year. For a moment, Temperance had forgotten that Booth had abandoned her. Although she hated needing anybody, when it was necessary for someone else to save her, when she couldn't save herself, he was there... just like he was supposed to be. Once that initial moment passed, though, and she saw everyone else there as well, including Sully, her resentment returned with a vengeance, and she had shoved Booth away. Everything from that second on to when the ambulance finally pulled away from the sight with her reluctantly riding in the back had only further managed to piss her off.
First, she immediately saw that Sully's face was in the process of bruising. Later, she found out from Zack that her former partner had punched her current one when he had been about to give up hope. They were all gathered on the top of the pit. When she set off the airbag, they saw a puff of sand, and Sully had believed that meant the Grave Digger had rigged the car to explode after so many hours. His assumption, given the situation, had not been far fetched, so for Booth to react in such a manner, essentially only making everything worse, had been immature and petty. Why he had hit someone she had previously been led to believe was his friend, Brennan couldn't guess and frankly didn't want to know. Still, though, the action irked her.
Then, to make matters worse, Booth's sudden appearance and intrusion into their lives seemed to upset no one but her. That made her mad as well. When he ran off to Jamaica, he hadn't just quit on her; he quit on their whole team. Granted, she had been aware of the fact that Angela, Hodgins, and Zack weren't as angry with him as she was, for they had accepted the task of escorting Parker to see his father, but visiting Booth temporarily and welcoming him back into their fold were two entirely different scenarios. The fact that they could all be so naïve in their willingness to forgive and forget both astonished and infuriated her.
All of that, though, was just the appetizer to wet her animosity's appetite. Being taken by the Grave Digger, Booth's sudden and assumptive reemergence into their lives, his behavior towards her new partner, and her friends' and coworkers' exculpating attitudes was nothing compared to the realization that even being away for a year Booth still knew her better than anyone else and her own inability to once and for all let him go.
As she had been taken away to seek medical attention at the rescue workers' insistence, Brennan had slyly tried to hide a piece of paper in her pocket. She had been quiet and unobtrusive. Zack who saw everything even if he didn't understand what he was looking at noticed nothing. Angela who knew her heart better than Temperance herself did had been totally absorbed with tending to Hodgins. And Sully, the man who was supposed to always have her back as her partner, had been totally oblivious. But Booth? Booth had been completely aware of her deception, and she knew it wouldn't be long before he sought her out, for one reason or another, and asked about what she had been attempting to hide from everyone at the crime scene but most of all from him.
On her way home from the hospital, she had stopped by The Jeffersonian to retrieve copies of all the information and evidence they had against the Grave Digger. After finally showering and changing into something comfortable, she had poured herself a glass of wine and settled down at her dining room table, its glass expanse completely covered with files, photos, and lab results. As she lost herself in the case, using her anger to fuel her otherwise fatigued form, Brennan became unaware of her surroundings, the time included. It wasn't until her doorbell rang, startling her and making her nearly spill her drink, that she realized just how preoccupied she was.
She didn't have to look through the peep hole to know who it was outside of her door. Everyone else would have assumed that she was asleep and safely tucked away in bed, dead to the world and oblivious to a plea for admittance. But not him. At the same time as she opened her apartment's only entrance, Temperance demanded to know, "what do you want, Booth?"
"Food," he announced with an annoyingly bright and chipper smile. Clarifying, he continued, "not that I want food, because I already have it – from Wong Fu's – but someone to eat it with me. You know me, Bones. I always order too much. Hey," her former partner exclaimed, pushing his way carefully past her without an invitation to enter, his gaze zeroed in on the evidence she was sifting her way through. "You started the party without me."
"Who said you were on the guest list?"
"Ouch, Bones," he feigned hurt. "Can't you at least pretend to be happy to see me?"
Ignoring him, she asked instead, "why are you here?"
"I told you. To eat. I brought Chinese food," he finished in what she knew was supposed to be a cajoling voice.
"I'm not hungry."
"Of course you are," he argued, turning his back towards her as he started to unload his carryout bags. Placing the various containers on top of the papers littering her eating surface, he encouraged, "besides, you're going to need your energy. We have packing to do and a flight to catch."
Immediately, Brennan came to attention. "What? What happened? Did the FBI get a lead? If there's a new clue, we should leave now. Forget about eating and packing. Whatever we need, we can get it once we get to wherever it is we're..."
"Whoa, slow down there, Bones," Booth instructed. "I'm not here about the case," he told her. "Even if the FBI did have a new lead, which I don't think they do, they sure as hell wouldn't tell me anything. To them, former agent or not, I'm even more of a civilian than you and your fellow squints are."
"But you said...," she started only to be interrupted for a second time.
"We're not going on some wild goose chase after the Grave Digger; we're going to Jamaica."
Releasing some of her tension and fury by slamming the still open door, Temperance faced off against the frustrating, infuriating man across from her. "Unlike you," she accused acerbically, "I do not run away from my problems."
"Did I run away last year," he asked, answering before she could respond. "Yes, but it wasn't because of any problems. Over all, my life then was pretty good. I had Parker, I had my work, Tessa had just broken up with me over Angela's relationship steps, but it wasn't like I was in love with her or anything. Tessa, I mean, not Angela... though I wasn't in love with Angela either." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Booth took a deep breath. "Bones, I'm not asking you to run away; I'm asking you to go back to Alligator Pond with me to help me settle my affairs and to pack all my things up. I mean, you look like you'd be a good packer... you know, being so anal and all. Besides, I think it'll be good for you. You can relax, recuperate, get a little perspective."
"I don't need perspective. I know exactly who I am, what I am doing, and what I want."
"Yeah, well," he snapped his fingers and then pointed at her. "You can't argue with the recuperating idea."
"I feel fine."
"Bones...," he warned her.
At the end of her patience, Brennan demanded to know, "what does this all mean, Booth?"
He swung his arms open wide, smiled, and announced, "I'm back, baby!"
"Back?"
"Back to being me. Back to wanting to be your partner. Back to wanting to work for the FBI, to catch bad guys. I'm moving back to D.C.."
"Booth, you can't just... waltz into my life once again and expect me to take you back. I already have a partner," Temperance insisted. "Remember – your friend, Sully?"
Whether his excitement had been put upon or her mentioning of Agent Sullivan simply destroyed all his good will and humor, her former partner's mood disintegrated in a matter of seconds. He moved rapidly, approaching her, his face became red with barely suppressed animosity, and he elevated his voice. "Yeah and look at what a bang up job he's been doing, too. Partners don't allow each other to get kidnapped, Bones!"
Yelling as well, she returned, "well, at least he didn't abandon me! Unfortunately, I can't say the same thing for you."
Booth sobered instantly. Lowering his tone so that it was once more soothing, he said, "I didn't leave you; I just left the job."
She couldn't help it. With his admission, she felt her anger dissolve into the pain and fear that she had been trying to hide from all evening. The fact that he could make her feel that way managed to irritate her but not enough to overpower everything else that she was feeling. In order to hide the sudden tears that formed in her eyes, Temperance turned her head away from the man directly across from her. He was standing so near, close enough to just reach out and pull her into his arms, the last thing she wanted was for Booth to hug her. It would have been the final impetus she needed to unravel.
"My parents didn't leave me because they wanted to but to keep Russ and I safe, but it still hurt. Russ left because he was just a kid himself and couldn't take care of his fifteen year old sister, but I still refuse to answer his calls every year when he calls me on my birthday. You quit on me. Whether that was your intention or not, Booth, that's how it felt. Things got a little tough, a little scary, and you bailed. Move back to D.C. if you want, but don't do it for me, and don't expect me to ever be your partner again."
"Bones, I didn't just walk away from you," he argued. He moved to try to capture her eye, but, when she continued to avoid his gaze, he grabbed her carefully by the shoulders and turned her so that she was facing him once more. "I sent you plane tickets so that you could come and visit me. I called you. I even sent you emails, and I think you know how much I like computers... about as much as you like me right about now. I'm sorry, but you were the one who pushed me away whether you want to admit it or not."
In the back of her mind, Brennan knew that he was making some relevant points, but she wasn't ready to concede yet. "When you quit your job, it was like you were quitting us, Booth. You and me," she gestured between them with her right hand. "That's who we were – we were partners who worked together to solve the murders no one else could. That's the only reason why we knew each other, and that's the only reason why we were... acquaintances."
"Friends," he corrected.
Though she had considered him a friend before he had run away, she hadn't been about to call him that, at least not before he used the term first. "When you threw your career away, it felt like you were throwing away everything between us as well."
Letting go of her shoulders, her former partner shrugged then. "I don't know what I can say to you, Bones, to make you feel or think otherwise. All I can tell you is that wasn't my intention. I saw this world around me, this world that I brought into my son's life day after day simply by being his father – a world of hate and pain, of murder and diseased minds. It was dirty, and, if you stay in filth long enough, it'll start to rot you, too. I felt it eating at me little by little, case by case, but then I got to Jamaica, I got away from everything haunting me back here, and, even if only for a few minutes a day, I could forget all the things that kept me awake at night back here in D.C.. I could actually sleep."
He glanced away then, and she found herself wondering just what it was that Booth wasn't telling her. Before she could ask, though, he was talking once more. "Did I ever tell you how Parker got his name?"
"No," she responded, caught off guard by his rapid introduction of a new topic of conversation. "I just always thought it was something Rebecca picked or it was meant to reflect his conception – that you and Rebecca were in a park or perhaps a parked car."
"What, Bones? No," he immediately refuted, shaking his head in amused dismay. "I hate to see what you name your kids someday."
"I don't plan on having children."
"You say that now, but..." Brennan went to protest his remark, but he held up a hand to ask for her silence. She obliged... for the moment. "Anyway, Parker was named for a soldier that I served with. He was younger than me, impressionable, still pretty much untouched by the horrors of war. His name was Teddy Parker."
"I take it by your use of the past tense that he died?"
Booth walked away from her then, not to avoid her question but to give himself enough distance physically to hide from his emotions enough so that he could talk about his painful past. As he spoke, he paced, occasionally picking up the odd knickknack or decoration before distractedly putting it back down. "I was Corporal Parker's commanding officer. During a sniper mission, he was spotting for me." She watched as her former partner swallowed roughly, obviously struggling with his memories. "He was shot. I know that soldiers die during war. It's inevitable. But Teddy... He shouldn't have. He was my responsibility, and I failed him. I..."
Pivoting back around to face her, Booth concluded, "Teddy's blood is on my hands... whether I pulled the trigger that killed him or not, and he's not the only one. I've killed a lot of people, Bones."
"As a sniper for the military," she protested. "You didn't kill for pleasure, or fun, or any other personal reason. You didn't kill for personal gain. You did so on orders from your superior officers, from your government."
"Right or wrong, orders or no orders, it still changes you. You would understand better if you were ever put in the position where you had to kill someone, but I hope you never are. Anyway," he changed the subject, nodding once as if to reassure himself. "The reason I'm telling you all this is because Teddy and all those other deaths used to be what inspired me to do what we do. It was my way of making amends, and I think I lost sight of that. For a while, all I could see was the death around me and not the good that we were doing, the deaths that we were preventing. And I'm sorry about that, Bones. As my partner, you deserved better. As my friend, you deserved to know the truth, and I took that from you. I never told you what I was thinking, how I was feeling. I know this is coming a year too late, but I can't change the past; I can only promise to remember this day and this conversation if I ever start to slip again in the future and come to you... if you'll let me."
For several minutes, she stood in silence, absorbing Booth's words. Finally, by way of a response, Temperance questioned, "how long do you think we'll be gone... if I agree to go with you? I'll need to give notice to The Jeffersonian, arrange for some vacation time."
"Two weeks," he replied. "Three max."
"This doesn't fix everything between us. Besides the fact that you're not even sure if the FBI will take you back, I need time to work through everything that you said to me tonight, and you're going to have to earn my trust back. It won't be easy."
"Tell me something I don't already know, Bones," he teased her with a wink. "Well, I should get going. You need your rest, and I wasn't really hungry – just used the Chinese food as a ploy to get in here." As he walked past her towards the door, her former partner asked, "so, I'll see you tomorrow, right?"
"We'll see. Call me with the flight information, and I'll let you know what my decision is concerning Jamaica."
Just as he was about to finally leave, Booth paused, craned his head around to look at her, and queried, "hey, what was on that piece of paper that you tried to hide in your pocket back at the quarry?"
"It was nothing," she answered dismissively, hoping that her friend still wasn't as good at reading her as he had been a year before. "Nothing important, nothing that had to do with the case."
Booth nodded in acceptance of her statement and then left. Once she was sure that he was really gone after waiting for several still and silent moments, Brennan reached into her pants pocket and pulled out the note she had earlier concealed in a different pair of pants. Why she was still carrying it around, she didn't know. Unfolding the letter, he glanced at the top of it, reading the first line out loud to herself. "Dear Booth..."
Closing her eyes, she swallowed any emotions the words conjured up for her before ripping the piece of paper in two. Moving into the kitchen, she found a box of matches, struck one, and lit the missive on fire. As the words she had written in last minute despair disappeared and turned to ash, Temperance pushed out of her mind everything she had confessed in the letter she had penned moments before she had thought she would die. Turning on the facet, she rinsed the charred remains away, never to think of their former contents again.
For the second time that night, she couldn't see straight, but her dizziness had nothing to do with anger. Rather, her vision was blurred from the suppressed tears littering her eyes and lashes. While she was no longer buried alive, her feelings once again were.
