Update as well! I really can't focus on my Shot in the dark fic right now. I'm not sure why. So I'm really, really sorry guys. I'll continue it, just not sure exactly when the next update will be.

Why should I worry?

Why should I care?

I may not have a dime but hey!

I got street savior faire

Dad…

You know, when you're younger and you sometimes think things like, how lame your parents are? When you're younger and all you want to do is get away and never see them again? That moment when you're parents embarrass you so bad you want to run away or scream at them or maybe just cry?

Yeah. Me and dad? We never had that problem.

I mean, when I went to prom junior year, he basically threatened my date. And yeah, that pissed me off a little. When the kid ditched me for Savannah Tolland, though, I kind of wish that he would have shot him between the eyes instead of comforted me in my bedroom. I wished that he would have done something about it. Granted, I don't think he could have kept his job if he was convicted of murder.

Basically, though, my dad and I were pretty cool. He was overprotective, but mainly he just let me do as I pleased. That may have partially been because I really gave him no reason to distrust me, and maybe partially it was because whenever I went out, I was usually with Michael, whom he trusted, but in any case he usually just let me be.

I'm pretty sure he freaked out a lot more then he let on, but to tell you the truth, he never really got on my case. And I guess that was okay.

Why am I telling you this?

"Because my dad won't talk to me about anything besides the hospital, okay?" I snarled at the head shrink, who was nodding thoughtfully and jotting down things in his stupid notebook. I snarled at him and rolled my eyes when he placed his head in his hands.

"It's perfectly normal for a parent to not want to speak about what has happened to their child…They don't want to believe that anything traumatic has happened,"

I rolled my eyes once more and groaned audibly.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You told me to tell you what I'm currently struggling with. Are you satisfied that I'm not…Not…" my eyes got wide and I gritted my teeth, straining for the word. The annoying, older male nodded at me and signed something on a piece of paper.

"Yes, well, that's to be expected. Still having problems with words and writing?"

"Yes," I replied curtly, shaking my head to try and clear it. The man smiled sympathetically and tilted his head.

"It takes time. Same with your physical adjustments. It doesn't mean you're weak, Christine,"

"Jesus Christ, can I just go home? Or are you going to push that back again too?" I asked, exasperated. I'd been scheduled to go home two weeks ago, but the struggle had been to much. The man smiled and nodded.

"You're going home, Christine. Today,"

I resisted the urge to jump up and down, scream 'Yes!' before running away in triumph. Of course, I obviously couldn't run away, and that annoyed me, but I put on a smug grin before pumping my hand in the air. The shrink got up and offered to shake my hand. While my first reaction was one of annoyance, I have in and shook his hand, before he patted me on the shoulder.

"Thanks for your service, Seaman,"

"You too, shrinkie-dink," I muttered under my breath, though I kind of appreciated it. A little.

I got my discharge orders before Michael even came to pick me up. Mom and Dad were both at home, sleeping, Michael told me, so he'd figured he might as well come. Parks was in the car, waiting for us.

"Ready to go, Chrissy?" Michael asked, bowing slightly and winking at me. I laughed at him and curled my nose, shaking my head.

"Ya know, I thought that maybe this place might grow on me. It never did," I stated.

While I still had to use that damned chair for a while, until my doctor felt comfortable enough with me using those metallic limbs, I had grown used to it enough that I was fine wheeling myself. Michael-boy had my bag, and walked with his hands in his pockets, absently babbling until we made it to the entrance, where Parker was standing against dad's SUV grinning.

"Hey! I thought you'd never get out," he joked, before helping me get in and then starting the car. Michael sat in the back, reading some text book and looking up occasionally at me to grin.

"Whatcha reading, Mikey?" I asked, mainly bored but partially interested. He held it up and then dropped it into his lap, absently tracing the words with his fingers. I could see this through the mirror, and when he finally looked up he grinned.

"Biology textbook. Dad thinks that if I do another year at the university, I can maybe get an internship at the Jeffersonian Zoo, or maybe the vertebrate section in the Smithsonian Zoology department,"

I stared at him and blinked.

"How many years do you even have left before you have enough credits to get your masters?"

"Six months, technically. But I'm minoring in Anthropology, so I gotta finish up that,"

"Jesus, Mikey!"

"Yeah, well. You don't know how many collage level classes I took in high school,"

Not to mention the computer classes, the summer school…He wouldn't mention all that, though.

Why the hell was he minoring in Anthropology? I wouldn't even ask…

"Wait…I thought you already had a job. Up in the north?"

He hesitated and then looked up, grinning sheepily.

"Wasn't a very good job. Bullshit, really. The guy shouldn't have let me intern,"

I wanted to ask more, but figured it wouldn't be fair on our part. I wasn't planning on telling him much about our time apart on my end, so maybe it wasn't fair for me to do the same to him.

When we pulled up to our house, my eyes widened in surprise.

"Woah…" I started, staring at the house. "Did you guys…Did you guys do all that?"

Michael grinned and shrugged.

"You think that's something. Wait till you get inside. My dad and your dad went fucking crazy there,"

The ramp didn't clash horrendously with the house. In fact, it looked like it was supposed to be there. The stairs were still in place, though now they were wooden, and maybe that made me feel a little better.

Parker jumped out and grabbed the chair before helping me, once more, and Michael ran up the stairs before kissing his own arms comically. I grinned at him and gave him the thumbs up.

Parker offered to push me, but as usual I declined. Twitching slightly, I did my own work, though it took twice as long.

"Dad and Bones are both sleeping, so don't be in no hurry, kiddo," Parker stated, waiting on top. When I got there, I realized more. Someone had put in a freaking pull up bar, there were benches on the deck…What the hell?

"Who's planning on doing pull ups?"

Parker pointed at himself and grinned, before pointing at me.

"Whoo-oo no way," I stated, though he shrugged it off, seeming not to want to annoy me more then I had already managed to be annoyed. Instead, we all went inside.

The house wasn't horrendously unrecognizable, which I was happy with. Parker pointed to the guest room and cracked his back.

"What? That where you're living now?"

"Nope. You're on ground level kiddo. I got your room, you got mine. Hallelujah, right?" he asked jokingly. I wanted to yell at him for changing things without asking me, but to tell the truth, I hadn't really expecting to come home any time soon anyways. When he brought me into the bedroom, I realized rather quickly exactly what he'd meant when he'd said they'd gone all out.

It basically looked like my room on base. Blue walls, tons of posters, mini fridge on the ground. The bed was covered with my blankets from base, and the only difference was that it was undoubtedly my bed from upstairs, not the one from base. I stared at all of it and suddenly began to cry.

I don't know why I started to cry. Maybe it was because of the sudden reminder, but it wasn't a bad kind of crying. It was happy tears. The fact that my family had somehow managed to capture something that had meant something to me, a part of myself…I felt sick with glee.

Parker looked rather uncomfortable, as did Michael, and they both kind of just stood there until finally I waved them off. When they left, I just stared.

How beautiful…

The moment was ruined, however, by a loud, resounding, "DAMN IT!" and the sound of my father leaping out of bed and running down stairs.

"Michael! Why didn't you wake me up? Christine is waiting-"

"In her bedroom," Parker finished for him, laughing. When Dad wandered in, looking confused, he stared at me and then laughed, one gruff chuckle, before he embraced me.

"Damn it. You and you're brother," he whispered, ruffing my hair slightly. I looked up at him and smiled through the glisten of tears.

"Thanks, Dad," I said suddenly, and he looked around the room, nodding happily.

"Yeah! Well, Hodgins helped. A little. But we saw the picture of your room and figured, hey, why not make it as much like-Well, I mean, if you don't like it, we can change it, but-"

"It's perfect, Dad. Perfect,"

"Good," he stated, grinning. I heard my mom come downstairs and wander into my room as well, her eyes lit up.

"Do most teenagers sneak home when they're supposed to be waiting for us to pick them up?"

"Well, you know. It's Michael. Hard to resist the beast," I said, before suddenly regretting it. A hardness came into Dad's eyes, and Michael was right outside the door. He came in and raised his hands as if asking for peace, before ruffling my hair.

"Gotta go home, beast," he mocked lightly. I blushed slightly before he laughed and saluted us lazily, walking out.

Sometimes I wonder about that boy…

Sometimes, as Mom said about Dad once, I think he's very nice.