AN: You're still here? Thank you for reading! Thanks also to everyone for their perspectives on Cam as a character. If anyone's read a good fic that makes her character more relatable, I'd love the recc. I want to like her and I feel the writers are to blame, to a degree, for not fleshing her out enough over time.
That said, I do believe Brennan and Fisher want to explain a little Shakespeare for you. For those unaware of "country matters", it's a line from Hamlet that has two interpretations, both of which involve sex and one of which involves very coarse slang. I'm still surprised that both were explained in our high school text, but the line does make me giggle every time.
Speaking of Fisher, this week's episode killed me. I love him so. I also loved Brennan and her nerd humour. I got the circle joke right away. My mister (my Booth - it's kinda scary how much) shook his head at how bad a joke it was then called me a nerd.
Shocker: I still don't own Bones. I also don't own anything by Shakespeare (nor do I really care to own Titus Andronicus).
"And it's always little things
That to the surface brings
The space you need to breathe
Before the curtain call
The light that leads the way
Before you hit the wall
The mountain that you climb
Just to take a fall
For blind among the blind
There's an anchor around my heart
Dragging me down
Beneath the waves in silence I fall
There's a halo above my head
Spinning me 'round
'Cause I don't know if I'm alive or dead
There's a dagger in my hand
Bleeding me dry
And all we have to lose is time
And what we lose, we leave behind
Stay around and we will shine."
Halo - Oleander
"Are you sure this is necessary, Bones?"
"Yes, Booth! Fisher and I have constructed a summary of the play, along with an understanding of Shakespeare's patterns of plot construction. It's highly informative."
Brennan shook her head at her partner's grimace. Booth could be incredibly stubborn when he found something frustrating, a trait she hoped Christine would not exhibit. His resistance to Shakespeare went far beyond a lack of comprehension; little moments she'd observed over the past several days had made it clear that he did get the gist of the material. He just didn't want to understand it.
"Dr. Brennan, I think everyone's here," Cam announced, leading in Sweets.
"Excellent." She glanced around at the colleagues seated in Angela's office and nodded to her friend. "Angela has helped us prepare a few visuals for this presentation."
A picture of William Shakespeare was now on screen as she gestured to Fisher. "Most of us are at least superficially aware of William Shakespeare from our studies. Granted, different teachers possess mixed levels of proficiency with his work."
"Ugh, that reminds me of my grade ten teacher," Fisher chimed in. "The man didn't understand the inherent humour in 'country matters'."
Brennan burst into laughter, as did Hodgins. The rest of their colleagues remained confused, given their lack of amusement. Clearing her throat, she continued.
"Mr. Fisher has brought up an excellent point about Shakespeare's general writing style. He was, first and foremost, a master at wordplay. Frequently, characters match wits through puns and turns of phrase. He's responsible for 1700 words we use in the English language, words that everyone uses."
"To demonstrate," Fisher added, gesturing to Angela for a screen change, "examine this sentence: 'The bloodstained bandit was remorseless about the premeditated assassination and torture of which he was accused.' All of the key nouns and adjectives in this sentence came from Shakespeare."
"Which is why we ought to respect him, given our field of expertise," Brennan noted with a smile. "Although the core elements of his plot lines were borrowed from other works or historical events, he had a way of making these stories entertaining for the masses."
"In short: beyond the often flowery language lies a sharp mind for metaphor, irony and satire. Expect these elements in our killer's actions, past and present."
"Even Violet Richter's name – that of a flower – plays into the drowning of Ophelia," Brennan explained. "Kimberly's last name is similar to that of a character in Titus Andronicus."
"So we should be looking at names similar to characters in Shakespeare's plays?" Booth asked.
"That could prove a viable means of predicting future victims," Brennan replied. "Now, we need to examine the quote we were given."
On screen, the text of it appeared:
Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows
Pass the remainder of our hateful days?
What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues,
Plot some deuce of further misery,
To make us wonder'd at in time to come.
Fisher read the quote aloud, then explained it. "This quote is from an exchange between Titus and his daughter, who has been raped violently and had her arms cut off and her tongue cut out to prevent her speaking of her attackers."
"Charming," Cam spat out.
"Titus Andronicus is, without question, the gore show of Shakespeare's work," Fisher agreed. "This suggests a need to speak for those who are forcibly silent, and a theme of vengeance, which, as I explained to Dr. Sweets, is a common theme among all of the works the killer has mentioned or enacted with his murders."
"There are several crimes committed in the play. Hodgins, Sweets, could you come here?"
"I'm the killer," Hodgins quickly blurted out.
Angela snickered. "Well played, honey."
"I don't understand," Sweets protested.
"You don't need to understand. Just do as I say," Brennan said.
"In the first major death of the play, Tamora's eldest son is sacrificed for the funeral pyre of Titus' dead son," Fisher began. "His limbs are removed and entrails tossed into the fire."
"Hodgins?"
Baffled, yet also amused, he feigned lopping off Sweets' arms. The confused psychologist remained standing.
"Fall in the fire, Sweets," Brennan instructed.
"What?"
"He's not a very good victim," she commented to Fisher.
"He's too chicken to play along," Booth goaded playfully.
"I am not!"
Fisher waved away his protests. "Next death: Bassianus is stabbed so Lavinia can be kidnapped and raped. Not exactly an unusual death, but the staging would apply for another couple being abducted."
Fisher approached Hodgins and feigned stabbing him. Booth and Cam laughed hard as they realized the implication: Sweets was the woman.
"Drag her away, Fisher," Brennan commanded, grinning.
"Let's just pretend we did," Sweets protested. "is this necessary, Dr. Brennan?"
"Yes!" the group replied in a chorus as Fisher yanked the young doctor several feet to the right with a leer.
"Titus's sons are then executed, but it's a trivial scene in the scope of other crimes, so we'll move along," Brennan continued. "Although Titus is tricked into severing his own hand, which could be employed by the killers."
"This play is disgusting!" Angela exclaimed. "Give me the romances any day!"
"The rapists are then killed and baked into a meat pie, which is served to their mother, who orchestrated the whole evil thing with her thirst for vengeance," Fisher pronounced ominously.
"Ew," Cam muttered.
"But in her defense, Titus killed her eldest son and fed him to the funeral pyre," Brennan offered.
"I am not being chopped up into a pie!" Sweets announced with indignation, returning to his seat.
"The meat pie bothers you, but Fisher was allowed to call you a girl and kidnap you?" Booth asked.
"I wonder what psychology would have to say about that," Brennan teased.
"Men did play the female roles in Shakespearean times," Fisher observed wryly as Sweets glared at Booth.
"In the end, almost everyone's stabbed or killed, with the final death being a man buried to his neck in sand and left to starve to death," Brennan concluded, talking over the chatter in the room. "Considering that death was of the key leader behind the horrific rape of Lavinia, it's a strong candidate for our next death scene, should we not stop the killer."
"So no trips to the beach, then. Got it!" Angela affirmed.
Brennan sighed at the unruly group. "This has certainly not gone according to plan, Fisher."
Her intern shrugged. "The Bard doesn't speak to them like he speaks to us, Dr. Brennan."
"Alright people, enough!" Cam shouted over the din. "In brief: no one goes anywhere without protection; no one goes near a beach; we all steer clear of fire; and I'm becoming a vegetarian."
Brennan pondered this for a moment. "That will do."
Booth shuddered. "Even I'm not eager to eat a steak anytime soon. Thanks, Bones. Thanks a lot. Angela, any hits yet with the property owners?"
"Nothing, but the search is still... Bren?"
Angela's quiet inquiry drew the room's attention to Brennan, but she was oblivious to their stares. Her eyes remained locked on the man standing outside of the office.
"Tempe."
She drew a deep breath, willing herself to remain calm. Don't let them see you cry. The woman was again the teenager without a family, and she instinctively stepped backwards, crossing her arms over her chest as if to shield the heart within.
"I told you not to come," she stated quietly.
His face was that of an apology, of failure, but it was hard to reconcile that emotion with the realities of what she'd endured because of his choices. Angela was right: the situations weren't entirely the same.
"Tempe, we really need to talk," Max pleaded.
"Max..."
A cautionary growl. Booth, ever protective. Brennan didn't know whether to kiss him or assert her ability to take care of herself. The decision ultimately wasn't hers to make, or so it seemed. With a forceful stride, Angela crossed the room and slugged her father in the jaw.
"How dare you?" Angela hissed. "How dare you not respect her after what you've done?"
"Ange?"
"Did I miss something?" Cam mumbled.
"A hit! A very palpable hit," Fisher enthused in a British accent.
Max, to his credit, took the hit in stride, his voice calm. "I don't understand what I've done."
"I already explained," Brennan mumbled, feeling a twinge of vertigo.
"And so did I," Booth snapped, lunging forward. "Hodgins?"
She felt paralyzed, which was impossible, given that she had sustained no injury, nor did she have any disease that would induce such a feeling. And feelings: so many were coursing through her, all at once. She wanted to scream in rage and wanted to be wrapped in her father's arms. She wanted to cry and wanted to express gratitude for keeping her and Christine alive for one hellish summer away from the man she loved so completely that it terrified her and elated her all at once. Instead, she remained motionless as Booth and Hodgins forcibly removed her father from the lab, calling out to security as they moved for the door.
"I'm sorry, sweetie," Angela whispered. "But he should've known that coming here was unfair to you."
"I need to... my office. Excuse me."
She willed herself forward, taking the steps quickly and methodically without concern for her coworkers – her chosen family, as Booth once explained to her – and slammed the office door behind her. With one painful gasp, she broke: tears streamed down her face as she slumped to the ground, hugging her knees. Every compartment, every emotion she'd carefully buried away, was tumbling free now.
It was one more thing Pelant had taken from her and her hatred for him also surged forward, because he was out there somewhere, free, while she was in some irrational mental prison where nothing made sense anymore.
"The dam's finally broken, hasn't it?" Sweets asked Angela.
"You could definitely say that," she replied sadly.
Cam's head rose as Booth and Hodgins returned without Brennan's father. "He's gone?"
Hodgins nodded. "He went without much of a fight. Speaking of, I brought you some ice, slugger." He tossed an icepack to Angela, who caught it with a mumbled thank you.
"Where's Bones?" Booth asked, scanning the room.
"Her office," Angela replied. "But Booth, you should know –"
"I know."
"Are you sure?" Sweets asked. "Are you sure you fully understand what's happening here?"
With a shake of his head, Booth replied, "No, I don't fully understand, nor do any of you. None of us are Bones, alright? She thinks on a level all her own, a level that maybe only Zack ever understood. Her heart... It's incredible, but she buries it in thoughts."
"We know this, Booth," Angela interjected.
Booth frowned. "Ange, you know her, but you've never been her, and neither have I. So while yeah, we get her, neither of us will ever fully understand her perception of things. But I understand her, and that's all I need to get from what I see to what she sees. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take care of her and the rest of you can get back to finding this sicko who's probably cooking a stagehand meat pie right now."
Without waiting for a reply, he headed for her office, carefully weighing out the facts as he understood them. She was upset at her father. She was worried about something. The mixed emotions that had crossed her face minutes before reminded him of the week after her return and the warring emotions within him. Fall out from her summer away, he reasoned, and with that thought came the stupid fear again: She's done with me. She wants to leave me.
But then he heard her sobbing and his needs and foolish fears were forgotten. Protect her. It was the mantra he had lived by for years. It was his only thought as he thrust open the door of her office.
Max just doesn't know when to quit, does he? I feel bad for him, especially after rewatching old episodes and remembering that Bren's mom said that it was her choice to leave the kids behind and Max fought it to the bitter end.
Next chapter: Booth, Brennan... Let's see if he can help her sort out her heart - that is, if she'll open up with him.