A Pain That I'm Used To—Chapter 12
Disclaimer: I think we all know by now that I don't own these characters.
Author's notes: Thanks for reading and special thanks for those of you who are reviewing. If you enjoy this chapter, please feel free to hit the little button and let me know.
To WOATCAPIITON—Ouch, already. Stop with the kicking! I'm already dealing with impatience (looks pointedly at BonesDBchippie) but the physical abuse has to stop! (LOL)
And to thewomanwhosoldtheworld—I'm glad you're finally getting the first season of this wonderful show. The character 'Kirk' that I mentioned in this story and "Pieces" was from the episode "The Skull in the Desert". So, anyone who has not seen that episode may want to scroll down to the story now and stop reading this First Season Spoiler………Kirk was Angela's boyfriend, who went missing in the desert while they were on vacation. A skull was found, Angela calls Brennan for help and the squints identify the skull as that of Kirk. The episode did a great job of showcasing the friendship between Angela and Brennan in my opinion, with Brennan providing comfort for her friend for a change.
And finally my dear elliot02uk (Jean)—Yes, I did have to mention the tangled sheets. I initially thought about describing his shirtless upper body and toned chest but then that would have taken up the whole chapter.
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The pulsating pain in his head had to be caused by high blood pressure, which in turn was caused by one Temperance Brennan. Booth held the phone to his ear as he maneuvered around slow moving cars on the highway and listened to Deputy Director Cullen at the same time.
"Okay, thank you again for your assistance sir." There was a small pause as he listened to his superior and glanced over at Brennan. "Yeah, we should be there in another 45 minutes."
He snapped the phone shut and slipped it back into his jacket. Letting out a long breath to ease the frustration he felt, Booth turned his gaze briefly to Brennan again. "Cullen's got everything set up. Just so you know, I really, really hate this idea. I still think there's another way."
Brennan continued to stare out the passenger side window, hoping the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach would go away. "There's not, Booth. Believe me if there was another way to identify 'Jacob Curry', we would not do this."
Clutching the steering wheel tightly with both hands, Booth sighed. "I know Bones…I just wish the sketch and the DNA had panned out for you, that's all."
"You don't have to go with me, you know. You can wait outside." She knew he wouldn't let her do this alone—that's why she had dragged him with her.
"Yeah, telling me to wait outside is like telling you to stay in the car….or don't chase that suspect…or…" Booth snorted.
"Okay, I get it, I get it." Brennan stared at his profile as he drove. She placed her left hand on his right forearm, startling him a little. "Thanks Booth."
He glanced at her hand and quickly covered it with his left hand, squeezing it slightly. "You never have to thank me Bones…not for something like this."
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Brennan found her anxiety level heightened considerably as she and Booth walked down the long hallway of the federal prison. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves causing Booth to look at her with concern. "You don't have to do this."
She watched as a guard approached them. "Yeah, I do."
"Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan," the older man said, "we've got the room set up. I'll need to take any weapons you have on you and your bag, ma'am."
Booth unholstered his weapon, ensuring the safety was on and handed it to the guard as Brennan handed him her bag.
"Clear," the guard yelled. Suddenly the steel doors groaned and clanked as they opened. "He'll be handcuffed but we request that you both remain on your side of the table while you speak to him."
Booth placed his hand on Brennan's back as they walked through the door, which immediately began to close behind them. They took in the small room, surrounded by bars, with a small table and four chairs in the middle of the space. Booth glanced up and noticed two surveillance cameras covering the room, red lights indicating that they were indeed working.
Pulling out one of the chairs, Booth gestured for Brennan to take a seat. He quickly sat down beside her and placed his hand over hers, which he noticed were trembling slightly in her lap.
The clanking of the steel door across from them caught their attention. They watched as Vince McVicar was escorted into the room by three guards. The smile McVicar directed at Brennan chilled Booth to the bone.
Brennan for her part tried to remain, externally at least, as impassive and unaffected by McVicar's presence as she could. She could feel her chest tighten as her mother's killer took a seat across from her. Brennan willed herself to remain calm, mindful of the fact that she and Booth needed answers.
The guards chained McVicar to the small hooks on his side of the table. Booth had made sure that Cullen specifically requested that action when he called to set up the meeting. He didn't want McVicar to lay one murderous finger on his partner.
After chaining the prisoner to the table, the guards nodded at Booth. "We'll be right outside the door," one of the younger guards said.
McVicar sighed as he studied Brennan. "Joy, Joy, Joy…you look good. Just like your mama. You know, your mama always looked real good, just for me."
"Her name is Brennan and we didn't come here to stroll down your warped memory lane," Booth growled. He pulled Angela's sketch of 'Jacob Curry' from his jacket pocket and placed it in front of McVicar.
McVicar, for his part, never stopped staring at Brennan. "Now Joy, why did you bring your boyfriend to come visit me? This should have been quality time for us to catch up…"
Booth slapped his hand down on the table. "Look at the sketch and tell us who that man is!"
"Your boyfriend's got quite the temper," McVicar said as he grinned at Brennan. She didn't respond since she found herself unable to speak. Anxiety was slowly creeping its way through her system.
McVicar looked down at the sketch and tilted his head slightly. "Oh yeah…him. Now how did you manage to find him?"
"Who is he?" Booth's patience was running thin.
"I tell you what lover boy, you leave the room and let me talk to my little bundle of Joy here and I'll tell her what she needs to know." McVicar clasped his handcuffed hands together and sat back.
Booth still had his hand over Brennan's and he felt her squeeze his hand like a small child who was afraid of the dark. Surely she knew that he would never consider leaving her alone with this maniac.
"You got to talk to her alone at the farm and you didn't tell her anything then." Booth narrowed his eyes at the killer. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Well then I'm not telling you anything…unless…"
"Unless what?" Brennan finally found her voice, shaky as it was.
"Unless lover boy wants to swap stories with me," he cast an evil grin at Booth. "I'll tell you how sweet Ruth could be…you tell me what kinky tricks little Joy uses in the bedroom to get you all riled up."
Booth felt his anger rise as he took his hand away from Brennan's and began to reach across the table for McVicar's throat. Brennan grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
"We're done," she said as she stood to leave. Turning on her heel she started toward the door that she and Booth had entered.
"Tell me Joy, did daddy's voice sound the same? Did he beg you to stop this investigation?" He grinned as she slowly turned to face him.
"How did…"
"It must really suck to find out that your parents just didn't want you. Daddy's been alive all this time and didn't give a damn about you. Big brother took off and left you behind….and boyfriend here, well…after a couple of more rides he'll take off too." He winked at her. "But if you're lucky, I'll still be around."
Brennan quickly turned away from him and stepped through the door as it began to slowly creak open. Booth grabbed the sketch from the table and looked at McVicar. "You son of a bitch, this is not over."
He moved quickly out the door but couldn't find Brennan. The guard handed him his gun and Brennan's bag. "Did you see where Dr. Brennan went?"
The guard pointed to one of the doors a little further down the corridor. "She went to the ladies room….she didn't look so good either."
"Oh no," Booth said as he took off running down the corridor and flung open the door to the ladies room. He found Brennan breathing heavily, clutching the sides of one of the sinks, looking like she might pass out at any moment. He'd seen this before in some of his Army buddies—panic attacks. Why the hell didn't I realize this earlier, he silently berated himself as he rushed to her side, dropping her bag on the floor.
"Temperance, look at me." He put one arm around her waist and used his other hand to turn her face toward his. "Look at me," he said softly. "Just breath, slow your breathing…okay?"
She nodded and tried to regain control. At that moment her knees buckled and Booth managed to grasp her even more tightly, maneuvering both of their bodies to sit on the floor. He turned his body so that she was sitting between his legs as he pulled her to his chest. Stroking her back, he murmured into her hair, "just breath….I've got you…just breath Temperance."
He reached over to her bag and opened it, pulling out a small water bottle and the prescription bottle he had spied at the Thompsons' house. "Here, take this…"
Placing the small tablet into her shaky hand, Booth opened the bottle of water and offered it to her after she placed the medicine on her tongue.
He continued stroking her back, waiting for the attack to subside. "God, Temperance why didn't you tell me?" he whispered.
Brennan didn't respond to his question. She was just glad that he was there holding her, comforting her. She was finally in the one place where she truly found solace—Seeley Booth's arms.
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The drive to Brennan's apartment was quiet. She spent most of the drive trying to keep her eyes open, fighting the side effects of the medicine. She was so sick of drug induced slumber.
Booth stole glances at her every few minutes to ensure that she was okay. Panic attacks, he thought to himself as he shook his head. He had seen grown men three times Brennan's size brought to their knees by one of those but it had never occurred to Booth that his strong willed Bones would succumb to such a thing.
He had noticed that the date on the prescription bottle coincided with the date the remains in Willow Lake had been located. Booth silently cursed himself for allowing her to continue working on the case. Angela had been right.
He pulled the SUV into a space at the curb directly in front of Brennan's apartment building. Booth quickly exited the vehicle and rushed to the passenger's side to assist Brennan who was, once again, moving very slowly. Taking her bag, Booth found her keys and then took Brennan's right arm and placed it around his neck, supporting her with his left arm.
"That bag doesn't go with your shoes," she mumbled. Booth smiled at her as they climbed the stairs and entered the building.
After a short elevator ride, the couple found their way into the apartment. Booth dropped her bag on the floor in the foyer and closed the door with his foot. Guiding her slowly down the hallway, Booth opened her bedroom door and moved her to the bed. Brennan let go of Booth and dropped her body unceremoniously onto the plush mattress and sheets.
If the circumstances had been different Booth would have found the moment cute and endearing. He grabbed the boots on her feet and gently pulled them off, placing them on the floor at the foot of the bed. Spotting a blanket lying haphazardly across the back of a chair near her dresser, Booth snatched it and walked over to the bed, draping the soft material over her form.
As he covered her arms with the blanket, Brennan's hand snaked out and grasped his forearm, sliding slowly down to his hand. She pulled gently making a silent request; one that Booth would not and could not deny her.
He slipped his shoes off his feet and kicked them away from the bed. Letting go of her hand momentarily, Booth slipped off his jacket, tie and button-up shirt, tossing the items onto the chair where he had retrieved the blanket. He removed his gun and holster, placing both items on Brennan's nightstand.
She moved over slightly, allowing him room to lie down next to her. He placed one arm under her neck, cradling her head on his shoulder, and the other on her waist, pulling her closer to him.
Encased in his strong embrace, Brennan felt safe and….loved. McVicar's words echoed through her head. "It must really suck to find out that your parents just didn't want you. Daddy's been alive all this time and didn't give a damn about you." He had hit a sore spot with her, considering all of her abandonment issues. She felt the tears that she had kept at bay for so long slowly rolling down her face.
Booth placed a kiss on the top of her head and tightened his grip on her. "Let it out Temperance," he whispered.
Sobs racked her body as fifteen years of anguish, hurt, lies and secrets rushed at her. She cried for the fifteen year old girl whose world suddenly imploded all those years ago, leaving her with no one but herself; she cried for the mother lost to her forever and the father who was working overtime to stay lost; and she cried for the missed years with her big brother because of her anger.
Booth held her close, his heart breaking as he listened to her sobs. He knew that there was lot of pain that Brennan had never dealt with and this was just the tip of the iceberg in dealing with it. He rubbed her back and continued to place gentle kisses in her hair to let her know that he was there and he wasn't leaving.
Slowly the sobs began to cease and Brennan's breathing evened out to the soft snore that Booth had found so endearing just a few days before. He drifted off to sleep, thankful that Brennan had started healing and that she was safe in his arms.
Author's notes: Whew! There, he knows about the panic attacks. And while there was angst, I did manage to provide a little comfort. Let me know what you think. Press the button, go on, I dare you!
