'Who are you?'
Brennan stared at him, her mouth gaping noiselessly open. Booth looked a little worse for wear – his face was covered in a light sheen of sweat, the shadows under his eyes were smudged with dark purple, and his skin looked pale and clammy. But what struck her most of all was the blank, slightly quizzical look in his eyes.
'What? Booth, it's me.'
She held her breath. There was no flicker of recognition, no small spark behind his eyes that usually occurred whenever he had grasped onto a thought he felt had escaped him.
'I'm sorry. Am I supposed to know who you are?' The guilty look on his face almost broke her. Reaching blindly for the uncomfortable plastic chair she had been sitting on for the past few hours, Brennan lowered herself slowly into the seat.
This wasn't supposed to be what happened.
Booth was supposed to smile at her, with those dimples and perfect rows of white teeth, and tell her that he really meant what he had said about her having his child. Because after four years of dancing around what was between them, four years of innuendo and substitution and pretending – now was the time when they would finally, finally be able to themselves that they were ready.
But watching Booth run his eyes over a face, as if they had just met, made Brennan's heart squeeze painfully inside.
'I'm Temperance Brennan,' she finally managed to say, hearing her voice crack ever so lightly. Her knuckles were bleached and her fingers felt slippery against the hard, scratchy plastic.
'And you're my…'
'Partner.' The word felt bitter on the tip of her tongue. 'We work together. Do you remember your name?'
Booth appeared to struggle for a minute. 'You called me Booth, before. Is that my first or last name?'
'Booth is your family name,' Brennan informed him numbly. How had this happened? He was perfectly fine when they had wheeled him in…
'Ah, Agent Booth. You're finally awake,' Dr Kelso's words jarred Brennan out of her thoughts. The fatherly old man who had performed Booth's surgery was now at Booth's side, peering down his nose at the clipboard he had obtained from the foot of the bed. 'You gave us quite a scare for a bit.'
'Why?' Booth's clipped question seemed to startle Kelso. The corners of his eyes folded as he squinted.
'He appears to be suffering from some kind of amnesia,' Brennan spoke up, folding her hands together in her lap. She resisted the urge to twist her fingers.
'Well, that was always a possibility with these types of procedures,' Dr Kelso murmured. Clicking on a small penlight, Brennan saw Booth's pupils dilate and contract in response.
'Will someone tell me what's going on?' Booth demanded. From the set of his jaw, Brennan could tell he was agitated.
'Temperance.'
He didn't call me Bones.
Whenever Booth had used her real name, it had always been intense. He would look into her eyes, deep and penetrating, and tell her that it was okay for her to feel the way she was feeling. Jasper, Smurfette, when he had undid the cuffs her father had slapped on her wrists. Not many people addressed her that way anymore – even Angela had long ago abandoned that in favour of shortening her last name.
But Bones…Bones had made her feel special. Sure she had railed against the nickname at the beginning. After all, their partnership had not exactly started out on the right foot. But over time, hearing the affectionate carress that Booth imbued it with, and noticing that no one else seemed to have garnered the same attention, the endearment had become something she could rely on to know that Booth knew she was there, that more importantly she was his.
Oh how utterly Pride and Prejudice.
'Do you remember what the date is? Who the President is?' Dr Kelso asked.
'It's May 18th and Barack Obama is our President,' Booth replied, the surprise apparent all over his features.
'Does this mean it's temporary?' Brennan questioned, hoping she didn't sound as desperate as she felt.
'Drug-induced amnesia usually is,' Dr Kelso responded, scratching out something with a ballpoint pen. 'The premedicants used often erase memories of the short time frame the surgery is performed in. It can either be permanently lost or at least substantially reduced, but once the drugs wear off memory is restored. But Agent Booth here reacted badly to one of the premedicants used.'
Dr Kelso regarded his patient wearily. 'You've been in a coma for four days son.'
'Four days?' Booth choked out.
Brennan recalled the long, agonizing minutes she had spent watching the clock mounted above Booth's bedside table tick, tick, ticking away. It wasn't as bad as when she thought that Booth was dead of course. This time, she knew with every fiber in her being that Booth would make it out okay.
If not for her, then for their child.
'He doesn't know his name,' Brennan pointed out.
'My name is Seeley Booth.' Again, that look of wonderment stole across his face. 'Hey! Would you look at that, Temperance?'
Brennan tried not to feel resentful that he still did not seem to remember her.
Dr Kelso seemed to pick up on this as well. 'Considering that what Agent Booth just told me, its plausible to suggest that his memory will come back. It'll just take some time.'
'How much time?' Brennan demanded, ignoring the confused gaze Booth was sending her way. The almost pitying expression on Kelso's face made her heart hammer painfully against her chest.
No, no, no. Not after everything that we went through. Not after everything that we said and did.
That vacant look Booth had possessed when he had awoken was still etched across his eyes like a thick, nasty scar. Squeezing her eyes shut, Brennan forced herself to let out a shuddering breath.
'Temper-'
'Don't call me that,' she snapped out, her anger overpowering the guilt she felt when Booth's lips curved down. 'That's not what you call me.'
'What do I call you then?' Booth's words were part-sullen, part-curious. Feeling her nails bite painfully into the palm of her hand, Brennan let out a cynical laugh.
'It doesn't matter now, does it?' Shooting to her feet so fast her chair scraped back gratingly against the linoleum, Brennan offered a shaky smile to Dr Kelso. 'I'll go inform the others that he's awake.'
Hearing Booth call her name again – Temperance again, not Bones – Brennan hastily swiped away the tear that had escaped.
Dr Kelso was wrong. He said that in time, Booth would remember. In time, Booth would be Booth again and not some half-formed semblance of himself that wasn't quite sure of his own skin.
But Brennan had learned long ago that time wasn't eternal. No, what had William Penn said? Time is what we want most, but what we use worst.
And feeling the taste of briny salt in her mouth, Brennan feared that she had used it the worst of all.
a/n: hello one and all! Thanks to all those who have deigned to follow this project until now. This story isn't finished – I'll be resuming it once the fifth season kicks back into gear. Maybe by then this chapter will be redone to accommodate cannon? Who knows. But until September, this fic will be on-hiatus.
On a separate note, I have been nominated for an NCIS Fanfiction award (best crossover). I am trying to contain my excitement! The link is posted on my Profile page if you want to show your support.
Xoxo,
Alien09