Chapter 10- Traces of You
Temperance sat in the driver's seat, her back straight and both hands on the wheel as she drove Agent Harding toward their first victim's home. The car was silent, and Temperance was fine with that, though she did notice that her passenger appeared to be a bit nervous. She glanced to him again, his eyes affixed out the window, his fingers were rubbing together slightly as she drove.
"Does my driving make you nervous, Agent Harding?" She asked bluntly, watching his dark eyes flash to hers, a friendly smile on his lips as he shook his head.
"Nope. You're an excellent driver." He nodded, averting his gaze as he glanced out the window again.
"I can't help but notice that you have a heightened anxiety level. Your palms are sweaty, your jaw is clenching. I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?" She asked, honestly wondering if she was the reason behind the Agent's nervousness. She had an ability to appear cold and intimidating, and from her track record recently with Federal Agents, she wouldn't be surprised if Harding started looking for a new assignment already.
"No… no, absolutely not!" Harding said with a friendly smile. "No… you're fine, Doctor Brennan. I'm just… trying to get myself ready for this."
"For telling the parents of a child that she was brutally murdered?" She asked, trying to understand the squeamishness of the agent. "I assume being with the FBI, you've done this sort of thing before. It's not easy, but it does have to be done, and I understand your concern." She replied, watching his eyes on hers for a moment. He was surprised at her bluntness, the almost cold sound in her voice, though he could sense that the words she was speaking were through a filter. She almost looked like she wanted to say more.
"I have never had to do this before." He admitted, turning his head to look at the doctor, he watched as surprise slid over her features, her mouth opening slightly as she glanced to the road and back at him, she seemed genuinely surprised.
"I had assumed you had been with the FBI for a while, Agent Harding, I had no idea that you had no experience speaking with suspects and…."
"I've talked with suspects… been involved in the investigations and interrogations. Most of my work has been undercover work, and I have only recently moved to D.C. I came from the Philly field office." His voice trailed off. "I would have thought that a brilliant Doc such as yourself with the resources you have, that you've already looked up my record." He said with a slight smile that sent her eyes back to the windshield, her hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.
"It was classified." She replied as she felt the eyes of the agent on her. She wasn't sure if he was laughing at her, or surprised, or just sitting watching her for a moment. "So you have no experience with victim's families. That's alright… we'll work through it together."
"Like partners?" He asked, watching her hands grip the steering wheel tighter. He was testing her, and he knew it, but he needed to make sure she could handle this case before he brought her into that house.
"Similar to partners, more like… your contracted liaison or… colleague…" She cleared her throat. "Don't test me, Agent Harding." She warned, looking toward him, she watched the corner of his lips curl up slightly, and she couldn't help but shake her head, and allow herself to relax just a little bit, a faux irritated look.
"Sorry, Doc." He said in an almost whisper, this time not even attempting to hide the smile on his face.
A slender brunette opened the door, her worried eyes scanning the faces of Agent Harding and Dr. Brennan. Her shoulders slumped as she took in their solemn expressions. "This is about Celeste, isn't it?" She asked, her voice cracking as reality began to sink in.
"Mrs. Adams, I am Agent Harding with the FBI, and this is my partner-"
"Colleague," Temperance corrected him, her eyes glancing at him for a beat before she turned her attention back to Mrs. Adams.
"My colleague," Agent Harding said with a tight lipped smile, "Dr. Temperance Brennan, from the Jeffersonian Institute. We have some news about your daughter."
"Please, come in," Mrs. Adams offered, opening the door wider and ushering them into the living room.
"There's no easy way to say this, Mrs. Adams," Agent Harding began as they sat down across from Mrs. Adams and her husband. He pursed his lips together, trying to find the gentle words to say to them.
"There were some remains discovered near a junkyard," Temperance interjected, ignoring the alarming look that the FBI agent was now giving her, "and we were able to positively identify them as those of your daughter, Celeste Adams."
"Oh, God," Mrs. Adams cried out, burying her head against her husband's shoulder.
"Are you sure it was her?" Mr. Adams questioned, eyes red-rimmed as he rubbed his hands against his wife's back, wordlessly consoling her.
"We were able to compare dental records for a positive match," Temperance told them matter-of-factly.
"Mr. Adams," Agent Harding cut in, "you reported your daughter missing about a week ago. Can you give me any details? Any information leading up to the day your daughter disappeared that may help us in our investigation?"
Mr. Adams shook his head, "I don't... I can't think of anything specific. She left for school that morning just like any other day... upbeat, ready for school. Celeste loved school. She was a very bright, gifted student."
"Did Celeste have any siblings, friends? Anyone should would have hung out with after school?" Agent Harding asked.
"As far as friends go... she had only small group of friends that she kept in touch with from school," Mr. Adams stated.
"Celeste was our only daughter," Mrs. Adams spoke softly, lifting her head from her husband's shoulder. "We... tried to get pregnant for so many years, but... we finally tried in-vitro. After two tries, it worked. Celeste was our miracle baby."
Agent Harding nodding his understanding, his heart breaking for the grieving couple sitting across from him. He turned to Temperance to see if she had any more questions, but the faraway look on her face puzzled him.
"Dr. Brennan...?" He asked, placing his hand on her arm. "Do you have any more questions? Dr. Brennan?"
"I'm pregnant, Booth." The words sounded so foreign as she whispered them aloud. "I know we talked about this before... when you were here. When you were... alive." Temperance swallowed hard, the lump in her throat tightening as she lowered herself to the ground and sat Indian-style in front of the gray tombstone etched with the name of her former partner. She took a deep breath as her eyes traveled along the grooves that formed his name and the dates of his birth, and then sadly, his death.
"I wasn't going to... I had decided I wouldn't...," she paused.
Words that usually came so easy to her seemed suddenly difficult, but she continued, even though she viewed this kind of thing-this talking to tombstones thing-as ridiculous and unnecessary. "I wasn't going to use your sperm," she said softly, "I thought it would be wrong to use it, now that you're gone. But, I... I had a dream just shortly after you died of this... vibrant little girl with these warm, chocolate brown eyes just like yours. And it felt so real, as if she were already mine. And normally I don't believe in dreams and their meanings, but for a few days after the dream… I don't know," she sighed, "I just couldn't let it go."
She plucked a few blades of grass from the earth, holding the vibrant greenery between her fingers as she averted her eyes from the tombstone and stared off into the distance. In just a few weeks it would be November, and the luscious green that surrounded her now would slowly fade to brown, just like everything seemed to be fading away as of late... except for the tiny form of life that was now nestled safely within her womb.
"The process wasn't bad. There was some slight discomfort, but overall everything went fine. Statistically speaking, I'd say that it was highly successful," Temperance spoke, fighting to control the tears that were forming in her eyes. "I don't even know why I feel like crying. I suppose it's just the hormones," she reasoned aloud. "Anyway, I just... I thought you should know... although, you can't really hear me. But, I made a promise to you. So, I'm here. Talking to you. And you should know... you're going to be a father."
"Dr. Brennan?" Agent Harding spoke loudly in her ear, pulling her from her daydream.
Temperance shook her head slightly, clearing her mind. She could feel the moisture on her cheeks and the heat of embarrassment as she lifted her hand to swipe at her tears. Mr. and Mrs. Adams sat across from her, staring at her with concern.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I don't know what-"
"It's alright," Mrs. Adams nodded with understanding. "As hard as it is for us to hear the news about our daughter, I'm sure it's just as difficult for you to tell us."
"Right," Temperance agreed, glancing quickly at Agent Harding. She took a deep breath and collected herself. "There are more tests that we need to run... but I assure you that we will go to great lengths to find out what happened to your daughter. I'll inform you as soon as her remains are... ready to be buried."
"Thank you," Mr. Adams replied.
Agent Harding placed his hand onto Temperance's elbow, helping her from the couch as they made their way to the front door. "If you think of anything else...," he told Celeste's parents, "anything at all... please don't hesitate to contact us." He handed Mr. Adams his business card and then led Temperance to the car.
She paused for a moment as they walked toward the vehicle. "Doc?" He said, pushing her attention in his direction, her blue eyes snapped with his, the expression of pain not lost on the man as he watched her rubbing her thumb over the key to the car as if she were thinking about something. He thought about asking her to drive, but he didn't dare ask. She seemed to be lost in her thoughts as she suddenly straightened up and cleared her throat.
"We have another family to see." She said, trying to be strong as she approached the car and grabbed the handle. She glanced over at Agent Harding as she pulled the door open. "And don't call me 'Doc'." She said, climbing into the car, she didn't notice the smile that rose on his face, before letting it fall from his face as he climbed into the car and allowed Temperance to drive to the next home. He didn't dare utter a single word as they drove away.
Temperance sat at the brightly lit kitchen table in the home of Walter and Janet Stewart. Agent Harding sat to her left, and the Stewarts sat across from them. Just like Patricia Adams, Janet Stewart was crying freely, her tears wetting her husband's shirt as he held her close. The sorrow that filled the room was unfathomable, and Temperance found she was unable to speak.
"Kevin was supposed to be getting off the bus at three o'clock," Janet Stewart spoke through her tears. "I had a doctor's appointment that day, and wasn't going to be home until four. We usually don't let Kevin stay alone, but it was only going to be for thirty minutes. He was very mature for eleven. I thought he'd be okay for such a short period of time."
"How does Kevin get home from school?" Agent Harding inquired.
"He rides the bus," Walter Stewart answered.
Agent Harding nodded, "And did he get off the bus that day?"
Janet Stewart shook her head, "No. He was to use the spare key that we keep hidden under the mat by the backdoor. When I got home, there was no one here, and the key was still under the mat in the exact spot it had been placed."
"So, he never made it home at all?"
"Not that we're aware of," Walter replied. "Usually, when Kevin got home... he would drop his school bag by the door and head straight to the kitchen for a snack."
"We told the police all of this... when we reported him missing," Janet stated, sniffling and wiping her tears away. "Are you sure... that it's him?" She asked, hoping that maybe it was someone else.
"We're positive, Mrs. Stewart," Agent Harding said as gently and as respectfully as he could. "I'm so sorry, but Kevin is gone."
Temperance felt as though she was watching the scene play out in front of her as though she were somewhere else entirely. At the choice of Agent Harding's words, her chest tightened and her breathing became erratic. And emptiness filled her, and her mind was transported to another place; another time of sorrow and loss...
"Bren?"
A soft, yet shaky voice pulled her from the screaming silence that had filled the room. Temperance looked up to see Angela standing just inside the door, a solemn, sympathetic expression on her face. She stepped forward, her black ballet flats lightly padding against the tiled floor, until she was standing right beside the table where Temperance sat motionless. Angela sank down into the chair and took Temperance's hands in hers.
"Sweetie? Can you hear me?"
Temperance's blue, teary eyes rose to meet Angela's deep brown, nearly black eyes. It frightened her to look into them and see the confirmation mixed with sorrow. The truth, though necessary, is sometimes unbearably painful.
"Just say it," Temperance whispered, her eyes red-rimmed. Tears collected, pooling at the corners before cascading soundlessly down her alabaster cheeks.
"I'm so sorry, sweetie," Angela replied hoarsely, her own tears now flowing without abandon. "There were no survivors on the plane." She paused, as if what she said next wasn't really coming. Temperance knew it was coming, and she wished she had time to prepare, to feel, to know what it would feel like. There was no time to prepare, before she could take another breath, the words that her friend said so painfully softly had reached her ears. "Booth is gone."
"I'm so sorry," Temperance suddenly said, her voice ringing loudly throughout the room. She stood abruptly, ignoring the stares of Agent Harding and the Stewarts, who were all looking at her as though she were crazy. "I have to... I have to go...," she stopped talking and turned, moving as fast as she could through the house and out the front door to the car. She rifled through her purse for her keys, the tightness in her chest unbearably strong, she stumbled down the steps in the sidewalk, nearly falling over as she rushed toward the car, not wishing to hear, feel, smell, or touch anything. She needed silence, and solitude, she needed to get back to the lab. She nearly slammed into the SUV at the bottom of the slight incline, grabbing at the passenger side door, she climbed in without thinking, tipping her head back, she could feel the hot tears rolling down her face as she fought to keep her breathing steady.
An almost sob was released without her permission as she attempted to catch her breath, biting her lip to keep any more from escaping, she felt the pain of the reality, and when the driver side door of the SUV opened, she knew that she had to recover quicker.
"Doctor Brennan… are you okay?" Agent Harding asked, his hand reaching for hers, trying to see if she needed assistance, she allowed him to take her hand for a moment, slipping the keys of the car into his hand.
"Drive." She said, a hitch in her voice as she glared at him, her embarrassment quickly turning to anger as she tried desperately not to admit defeat. "Just… drive." She said again. "Please, drive." She whispered.
"Alright." He nodded, putting the key into the ignition, he started the car up and began to drive. "Where to?" He asked, his voice slightly uplifting as Temperance's blue eyes reached his once more, her panic attack nearly under control, her breathing was slower and more even. He tried to drive and look at her at the same time, the concern in his eyes was overwhelming enough for her to almost mistake it for sympathy.
"The lab." She said simply, biting her lower lip, she cursed herself for her weakness, saying nothing, she turned her eyes away from the Agent's watchful glances and awaited their arrival at the lab.