Brennan hadn't been able to spend another moment with him. She'd choked out an excuse about having a doctor's appointment. From there she fled to the safety of her vehicle. She sat behind the wheel and fought tears of fright and melancholy. Her thoughts had been foretelling. Booth remembered everything, and judging by the intense look of hate in his eyes he had no desire to have her around him. Two days ago I had this situation under control. I never thought his memory would return to him so fast given the circumstances. She wiped her tears. The real question on her mind was, now what? Down the middle she was divided in two. Part of her was too afraid to step back into his room and deal with the severe emotions that awaited her. But the other side of her knew she'd never be able to do it. Her fight with him and the subsequent events afterwards had more than proven how much she needed him in her life. It wasn't just for their child, either. She'd never be able to survive a normal life without him.
She went home and made herself a cup of hot chocolate. Then she dialed the only one besides Booth she knew she could turn to.
Angela answered after a few rings. The woman hadn't barely greeted her best friend before the story came tumbling out of Brennan's mouth. "He remembers, Ange. And he hates me. What can I do?"
"Be honest with him, sweetie. Just like you were with me. Explain it was a mistake. We all make them."
"But most mistakes don't cause others to nearly lose their lives in car crashes."
Still, Brennan took her words and went with them. Overnight she let the situation settle. As soon as visiting hours begun the next morning Brennan was there, ready and willing. She was prepared for the worst and hoped for a better outcome. When she entered Booth's room she was startled by what lay before her. Booth was asleep, but obviously suffering from a nightmare. He exhaled roughly in a fast rhythm. His body twitched uncontrollably. In his throat he made a peculiar whining sound she'd never heard before.
"Booth!" She descended upon him. "Wake up! Booth, it's just a nightmare!"
Given the violence of his dream she was surprised he roused with such little effort. He twisted away from her as he opened his eyes. After a moment he collapsed onto his back. His damaged chest was trying desperately to keep up with the frantic pace of his heart beat. With dark, deadened eyes he looked to Brennan.
"Hi," she said softly.
"What… happen…" He slurred breathlessly after a long pause.
"You had a bad dream."
Again his response was delayed. His eyes squeezed shut. "No. What… happen…"
All it took was a moment for her determination to be eradicated. "You were in a car accident. Don't you remember?" She paused. "What do you remember? Do you remember yesterday?"
Clearly, he didn't. All that had taken place before that moment had been lost. She touched the cool skin on his hand. "What's the last thing you remember?"
He couldn't answer her. Not because he didn't remember, only because he couldn't articulate it. His answer to her was to give himself a dose of painkillers. He sighed and allowed the drugs to steady his beating heart. All throughout him he could feel it throbbing with the pain of what he'd endured. A car accident? That didn't seem right. Nothing seemed correct. Up was down and down was up. His world had been knocked topsy turvey. His eyes closed. All he wanted to do was sleep.
"Booth!" He was floating away from her. She was beginning to have a strong resentment for his ability to escape her, escape his situation, through drugs. Though at this time it didn't occur to her that this was a problem. "Stay awake! Please!"
Her pleading wasn't fruitful. Minutes passed and he was sound asleep once again. She only stayed with him for so long before she showed herself out. This was definitely not the confrontation she'd planned on. Booth couldn't retain the most important knowledge. How could she work on repairing the damage when he hadn't the slightest clue of their lives together?
Angela called later on in the afternoon to see how the conversation with Booth had went. After a five minute chat she was on Brennan's welcome mat with two pints of ice cream she'd picked up at the store. Brennan smiled. "Ice cream doesn't fix everything."
"No." She invited herself in. "But it's a start."
Together they sat down on Brennan's sofa. While eating Brennan went into her story in more depth. Angela narrowed her eyes in careful thought and licked her spoon. "I'm not a therapist or a doctor but it sounds to me like he's blocking."
"Blocking?" Her ice cream was melting faster than she could eat it. Her stomach was too upset. "I don't know what that means."
"It means, he doesn't want to remember. Everything you've described to me about the crash sounds horrific. I can't imagine how terrified he must have felt. It's too much for his brain to handle so it's not letting him. The same goes with you. That whole night is just too painful for him. So it's been erased. Think about it." She took another bite. "His memory and comprehension are getting better, right? He can sort of talk as long as they're one syllable words. The day he starts remembering he has a seizure. He wakes up and remembers enough to hate you," she smirked, trying to indicate to her friend she was joking. "But in the morning? Gone again. Just like that." She snapped her fingers.
Brennan pushed the carton away from her. She wedged the spoon sticking straight up into the air into the center. "How do I get him to stop? He needs to remember." I need to fix us.
"Intense therapy. Sweetie, this isn't something you can just fix. It's not a situation where he knows how you are and is just willing to let it go with little resistance. He doesn't know how you are. He barely knows who you are. You're just going to have to wait for him to be ready."
Her stomach truly soured when she spoke what was on her mind. "What if he never is, Ange? What if this is permanent? What if this is as far as he can go?"
Angela tilted her head. "Do you really believe that this is all he has in him? The man who has so much fire and heart?"
"He doesn't know that man. No one does, except us."
Angela shook her head no. "It was his mind that's been damaged, Brennan. Not his heart. He'll find his way home. He'll find his way back to you. It may take a little time. But it'll happen."
It was hard to put faith in Angela's words. For the next few days every time Brennan visited Booth in the hospital, he was asleep. Or he was readying to drift off. At last she approached Dr. Mullins. "I know you prescribed rest for him but he's sleeping almost all the time. Is this because of the seizure?"
"At this point, no. And it only a mild seizure he experienced."
Brennan pursed her lips. "Perhaps it's time I try bringing him home again. He was doing all right until he was here in physical therapy."
Dr. Mullins was unsure of the course of action to take. He too, had noticed how much his patient was resting. "I guess we could try discharging him into your care. He's not relying on any medical needs at the moment. As long as he returns for therapy-"
She'd never let him miss. Firmly, she nodded in agreement. "Of course."
And so, an hour later she was bringing Booth back home. As days charged by the change of scenery proved to do him good. There was recognition in his eyes now as he hobbled around his apartment. Preparing food was a much easier task, though he didn't seem to eat much. At night he slept in bed with her, not seeming to mind that she cuddled up tight to him. He showed little affection, which Brennan hadn't been expecting anyway. It was another behavior he simply needed to "relearn."
Every weekday he attended both physical and vocational therapy. Try as he might he still struggled with speaking. At home he said little to her, and when he did it was simple words and phrases that he used. His physical body seemed to be strengthening faster than his mind. As evidenced by one afternoon when she'd arrived early to pick him up from the hospital. Though his vocational therapy was in the afternoon it'd been canceled for that day.
She'd entered the gym to find him front and center. He was laying on his back against a puffy rubber mat. A woman stood over him bending his leg back at the knee and pushing it upwards towards his chest. Trouble was she was inflicting more damage than doing any good. Slightly she had his leg twisted. Booth wasn't making any comments but knowing him like she did, Brennan knew he was in pain. "Stop! You're hurting him!" She flew to the couple as fast as a pregnant woman could.
The trainer released her hold. Booth's foot fell flat onto the mat. He pushed himself up into a seated position with his good arm. A few more weeks were all he had left before the cast on his wrist was due to come off.
"He's all right. Therapy is painful sometimes, unfortunately."
"Your form was incorrect. You were harming him. He's not ready for that kind of rigorous training."
"Oh really?" She planted a hand on her hips and raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to show her what you did today?" She directed her inquiry at Booth.
The command took its time reaching him. When it did Brennan watched in amazement as he rolled onto his stomach. He lifted himself into a position that resembled a one armed push up. The stance then changed to that of a runner's. Gradually and far from gracefully he got his feet under him and rose to his full height. Without assistance he was standing on his own. His strides to her were still a bit awkward. But his limping days were gone. His leg fully supported his weight.
"Booth." She gasped. Unable to help the flood of emotion she wrapped her arms around him. He was unsure of what to do with her affection and so at first he froze up. But gradually his tense muscles began to soften. When she pulled away he was smiling proudly.
"I'm Rachel, by the way. I'll be working with him." His trainer announced snidely.
Brennan cast an eye over the woman's perfectly formed athletic body for the first time. Her glowing tan was set off by the blue spandex she wore. Her blond hair was piled high on top of her head in a ponytail. Wonderful. "He's finished for the day?"
"Yes, we're done." She patted Booth's shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Brennan took Booth straight home. He still required the elevator to get to his apartment, which was expected. Inside she could see how fast his strength was depleting. His winced from pain as well. There was no saying what other abuse his trainer had put his body through.
She led him into their bedroom and laid him down on their mattress. From the night stand she removed the bottle of oxycodone from one of the drawers. He eagerly accepted it, draining the full glass of water she handed him. She then set to work massaging his body, using various techniques of different cultures.
He grunted and made other noises of pleasure. She grinned. "You like that, huh?"
Tiredly he nodded. She relaxed him straight into a deep sleep. Then she laid down next to him, laying her head on his chest. This wasn't ideal. And as his body grew stronger day by day she knew it wouldn't be long until his mind caught up.
Then the fireworks would begin.
