This chappie is highly psychological. It goes deep into Bren's mind, and her reflections on everything that's happened.
Without further adieu, here it goes.
She was sitting on a plush lazy chair, with a thick blanket thrown over her lap, sheltering her from the cold air coming the ocean. Her father had indeed managed to pull through on her request, and he had found them a cozy, elegant cottage next to the beach, only a mile or two away from the very cottage where they would spend their summers when she and Russ were still little, when their time as a family hadn't been cut short by murder and mayhem.
She was hit with a thousand memories, as she remembered the long drive there, and how they used to stop at every single spot they wanted to check out until they arrived at their destination, making the trip much longer, but more enjoyable at the same time, her parents indulging her and Russ' desires. After they arrived and settled, they used to spend 2 blissful weeks where there were no murders and no fears; during those 2 weeks, they were just a regular family sharing their precious time together. Not in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined that her life would change so drastically just a few years after that.
As she grew up and was faced with the harsh reality of the foster system, where love and kindness were the exception more than the rule, she became painfully aware that most of the time, she had taken her family for granted, that she had always assumed she would have the shelter their love would provide for her when there was no one else around. She was a loner by nature, her lack of social skills certainly not helping her to become popular among her peers or helping her make any real friends, but she had always been certain that her family didn't care about the fact that she was awkward, they didn't care that she always had her nose stuck in a book, and that she preferred science and learning to dresses, parties or sports: they loved her, and sheltered her, and even encouraged her because they knew her books and scientific endeavors were what made her happy and fulfilled. Max had been the one who led her into the world of scientific inquiries and knowledge, while her mother was the warmth, the heart of their family.
As she stared into the blue line of the horizon, the sky filled with shades of blue, pink and gray as day gave way to night, she had to accept that most of her issues with love and relationships had stemmed from their leaving, from the sense of abandonment she had grown to associate with the word "family". As the days passed, and her focus slowly shifted from recovering to thinking, when her body was no longer in constant stress and pain, her mind found the outlet she had always denied it, as she had refused to give in to the weakness and turmoil she knew would be found as she faced the consequences of mistakes that had never been hers to begin with, but which had affected her profoundly and changed her perspective on loving.
Max had been nothing but solicitous and loving towards her during their time there. He made certain she was always well-fed, well-covered, warm and cozy in what she had claimed as "her spot"; he didn't let her strain her body further with any desires to become active just yet, and his tenderness, though it made her feel like a little child, was strangely welcomed and heartwarming in her vulnerable state. He engaged in conversation whenever he saw she felt like it, and kept blissfully silent when he knew she needed time to think, just sitting by her side, holding her hand and letting her feel that he was there for her, even if they weren't sharing any words, just the touch of their joined hands serving as an outlet for her to know that even after so many years, her father still understood who she was.
As his caring attentions towards her couldn't be denied for what they were, a physical demonstration of his love for her, she started to realize that most of her emotional disabilities came mostly from anger, an anger she had never let roam free, so etched into her soul she had never fully healed, and repressed until it reached its steaming point. She had felt it, but she had never fully voiced it, she had never allowed herself to cry about it, she had never let her anger over being abandoned, alone and confused, find an outlet, but now, staring into the deep blue sea, she was ready to acknowledge that she was indeed angry, and at the same time, she knew that letting go of that anger was paramount if she was ever going to find true happiness.
She hated psychology, because it had always backfired for her: when she came clean to her child services officer, and the woman didn't believe that a couple as kind as the Kellys could have locked her in the trunk of a car so maliciously for two days, when that woman didn't believe that she was being abused and labeled her as a "problematic child who was only seeking for attention", she started losing faith in people. That's when her anger had truly started to grow. For many months after their disappearance, part of her had hold on to the hope that her parents and her brother would come back for her and save her from the Hell her foster families inflicted on her. At that point, she was torn between fear and pain. But as time passed, she slowly became resigned to the fact that she was on her own, and that if she wanted to survive, she only had herself to depend on. That's when pain turned to anger, and fear turned to the resolve to never depend on anyone again.
It was that process that finally led her to view love as something that fulfilled a purpose, a mixture of raging chemicals rushing through your bloodstream, not an emotion with solid foundations in the soul. That's why when she met Michael Stires, and she became aware of the physical attraction that existed between them, she tried to put as many barriers as she could between them, enjoying their intellectual rapport, but determined not to let something as ephemeral as a physical attraction ruin what she knew she could gain from being associated with her college professor. She recalled how, one night, after working on her dissertation, 2 months after he had started his private tutoring, he had offered her a drink to "simply relax", and she had taken it, not giving it a second thought or reading more into it. Michael was older, and more experienced, and very attractive in her opinion, so she wasn't that startled when he told her he was deeply attracted to her as well, and that he hadn't made a move, considering his position of scholastic power over her. She had bluntly asked him what he expected of her if they engaged in any kind of romantic liaison, and he told her that he wasn't looking for a commitment, but that he wasn't as foolish as not to notice they were deeply attracted to each other, mostly in the sexual arena. She had laughed at his assumptions that she was expecting romance or a deeper connection, and told him she didn't believe in love or romance, but that she was also aware of the sexual pull that existed between them, that he was a very sexually alluring man, and that if he could forget their respective positions, so could she, vowing to him that she wouldn't be expecting promises or commitment on his behalf, and that all she wanted from him was to receive "a skillful introduction to sex".
She even went as far as to assure him than when their attraction wore off, or when their interests no longer meshed, they would call it quits without any resentment. He had been more than glad at her practical way of seeing things, and that had been the beginning of the sexual side of their relationship. He had taught her to enjoy her body, to ask and give at the same time, not to be shy, to demand her pleasure as well as learn how to give it. He had been a good teacher.
But the shine eventually started to wear off when her intellectual success became too much for his pride to take in. To think that his student was surpassing him was too much for him. So, after he took credit for a finding on an ancient skeleton that would shed light on its passing and would certainly earn its discoverer academic praise, along with being published, she had gone to his place, and coldly told him she thought it was time they called it quits. She told him she wouldn't disclose the fact that he had crossed some heavy lines by sleeping with a student, and that she wouldn't reveal that such an important finding had been hers either, but that she could see he was threatened by her, and that she had no intention of bowing down to him because he was "the elder" in their relationship. There hadn't been any bitterness, as they agreed they had gotten all they could from their relationship at that point. She had never been angry or bitter towards him, as her sexual initiation had been quite pleasurable, but she could see now that was the beginning of the emotional detachment she would always feel towards sex. Until she met Booth. Until she was ready to admit that she wanted more, but always was too afraid to accept it.
Looking back, she could assume she had been in a thrall, she had been swept by the allure of the older, more experienced male that Michael represented, but the respect and attraction she had felt towards him waned completely after she had to fight him, not as a student, but as an equal. She hadn't been immune to the sexual allure he continued to present, as well as the intellectual bickering he could always provide when he returned to find her years later at the Jeffersonian, but when she started seeing that even as a professional, he wasn't as devoted to the victims and to shed light on their truth, even that part of the allure that still remained started to take a bitter turn. When Daniel Goodman told her he had chosen her over him because she was the better scientist, she had realized that Michael had respected her only when it served his purposes. And when he dared undermine her character before of a jury, when he dared question her scientific findings using her personal setbacks and endanger the result of the Costello's trial, that's when she realized she needed more from any man she associated herself with.
She had been already partnered with Booth, and looking back, she saw that he was already changing her views on people, and making her desire more. Simply more.
On their very first case, she had been trying to act professional, but she couldn't deny the strong pull of the sexual attraction she felt towards him. She was quite prominent figure in her field by that time, but when she found a man that didn't bow down to her, when he stood his ground before her and didn't feel threatened by her success or her intelligence, she became intrigued. Objectively, back then she had already labeled him as an alpha-male, and a very handsome one at that. She had found him stimulating, both intellectually (in his own particular way, of course, as his gut proved quite reliable before her science) and physically, and that had scared her. They were polar opposites, but she felt there was something there she needed to explore. He might have been a cop, but he didn't behave like one, even back then. She smiled as she recalled how she told him that someone like him, a rebel, would surely know how to find a way to stand out among his peers, and in the years after that, he had made certain that he indeed stood out. Even back then, they were already influencing one another.
That night, in the pool bar, when she saw him relaxed and carefree, ridding himself of his FBI persona and showing her cockily the flashy tie he had bought because he was "declaring his individuality and going rogue", she had felt a flash of desire so pure and overwhelming she had been astonished behind belief. She had never been one to be shy to voice her desires, so when he declared he had found her punching of Judge Hasty "hot" and fired her at the same time, she hadn't been unable to keep the fact that she wanted to sleep with him. The fact that he accepted her advances without batting an eyelash was even more of a turn on for her, so when he hesitantly told her about his gambling addiction because he thought, "they were going somewhere", she hadn't hesitated to press her lips to his, in the hottest, sweetest, warmest first kiss she had ever given or received. It had been physically painful for her to extricate herself from the promise of his strong arms and soft lips, of his large hands roaming her body, but for the first time, she didn't want to screw this new picture he was presenting for her. She had already resigned herself to the fact that she didn't know how to be in a relationship, but inside of her, something screamed at her to run before she ruined what promised to be… something more than she had ever known.
That's why she had refused herself the chance to take him home and literally screw his ever-loving brains out. She felt a wave of heat pass over her body as she recalled how after she got home that night, she had stripped down to nothing, and had feverishly touched herself to the image of brown eyes, large, calloused hands tracing her skin, and the most open smile she had ever seen, finding a release that was foreign in its intensity. Their fallout hadn't diminished her attraction towards him, despite its bitterness, but years after knowing his warm, kind heart, she could accept that he would have never uttered those hurtful words after their first showdown if he had known the emotional issues she carried in her soul.
She had tried so hard to fight the attraction she felt towards him, and she could have dealt with it if it was only the sexual pull he evoked. As he became a true friend, and she became mesmerized by his kind, loyal, loving nature, she grew truly terrified, because, for the first time ever since she was a teenager, there was someone posing a real danger to her heart. When she was out of the system, and she was free of the abuse she had been victim of, she had sworn to herself that no one would have the power to hurt her again. But he had come to change all of that.
He had steadily, but surely, started to chip away at her walls, one brick at a time, every day, being there, supporting her, helping her see a world beyond science and death. The first time they truly hugged as friends, when she found the truth of her family, she had found a comfort that had been foreign to her for the past 15 years of her life. It wasn't only the feel of his strong, powerful arms around her small frame, it was also the tenderness in his hold, of his soft voice soothing her with loving, reassuring words that scared the woman who had vowed to never depend on anyone beyond belief.
She knew she owed it to him that she had a family, once again. If it hadn't been for him and his insistence, his pushing her past what she thought she was capable of, she would have never forgiven Max or Russ. But Booth, completely disregarding his obligations to the FBI, had made sure she saw the blessing she had in having her family back in her life. After learning of his own troubled past, she was awed that he could still love his father, after all he had done to him, after all the abuse he had put both he and Jared through. Countless times he had told her she had a family now, but the true test of that loyalty came on that day, when sitting behind a jury, he told a truth that was a lie in itself because he knew it would make her happy, because he knew she needed him to tell that truth so she could reclaim her father for real in her life. In those moments when their eyes met over the courtroom, she realized he could read what was deeply etched inside her heart. That she needed him to give her her family back, that if he didn't reply to her gamble, she would lose a part of herself in the process. And he, infuriating, beautiful friend that he was, took it and responded in kind. The fear she had felt at having lost his trust erased when he simply engulfed her into his arms, not a word said, just them sharing the same space, both relieved that they had managed to hold on, his warm eyes boring into hers as she rejoiced in her victory.
Now, thinking back on every selfless, loving action coming from him, she could begin to accept that she didn't feel worthy of being loved by him, and had tried to see his actions as only tokens of affection from a loyal, loving friend. But despite her better intentions, her heart had yearned for him, and wanted to scream at him to make her believe she could be loved, that she deserved the love of a good man, as scarred and emotionally stunned as she was, no matter how hard and how fast she ran.
Her fear had been the sole motivator behind her request for his sperm. She wanted a part of him inside her, she wanted to feel that miracle, knowing it was his child, growing inside her womb, that connection no one could steal from her. She didn't want to hurt his gentle heart with her issues and awkwardness, she couldn't risk losing his friendship, but she could have this. But when he finally refused to comply with her wishes, telling her he had to be there for her, that he couldn't go through with it if he couldn't be a father to their child, her heart had broken. Of course, the pain of her disappointment had receded before the imminent danger of his tumor and the danger it posed.
She shivered as she recalled the uncertainty of those days, of seeing him lay there, so helpless, so devoid of life, such a painful contrast to his lively spirit. His last words to her, his last gift to her before he surrendered to the pull of the anesthesia had prompted her to write that story where their lives were so acutely different from their reality, but what had remained was the bond they would always share. Thinking back of his words, knowing that if he didn't pull through, she could have a piece of him forever broke her heart beyond belief, and she comforted herself in the dream world she created, for them both, a safe haven where their love could accomplish anything, where she wasn't afraid to let herself go and love someone.
She lost herself in the beauty of a life that had nothing to do with murder, a world where she hadn't hesitated to give herself to him, where she was open, affectionate, and unafraid to be loving and nurturing. That last image, of her body in his lap as she told his dream self they were going to have a baby was forever burned into her brain, and her throat had closed in tears as she truly thought he was lost, that he would never be the same Booth that had claimed most of her heart. And when he woke and asked her who she was, her pain grew to an insurmountable degree. There was so much desire, so much longing in his eyes whenever he looked at her, and her heart had shattered every single time Angela or Cam had to explain she wasn't his wife and that they weren't going to have a baby, seeing his eyes revealing his broken heart as he refused to let go of the comfort that dream world had provided. That was why she had run to the nearest dig at the first chance, beating herself up as she told herself she was a lousy friend, but unable to cope with the overwhelming pull of emotions threatening to drown her in their intensity, emotions that could only grow when she was near him.
Her eyes filled with tears as she recalled those months of trying to make him find his footing, of feeling how heavily he was leaning on her for guidance, and the tears started to fall as she went back to that fateful night in front of the Hoover. She had broken both of their hearts, but she honestly believed that she couldn't be what he needed, what he deserved. He deserved someone like him, open-hearted, kind to a fault, brave, devoid of scars. She wasn't any of those things. And she confirmed it, when she selfishly asked him to continue being her partner, even if she knew she had just crushed his heart. It hurt seeing him try to move on, but that gave way to the fear of losing him for real. No one would know the countless nights she had spent crying, and praying to a God she had lost faith in so he was safe, wherever he was. The idea of receiving a call telling her he had been killed or wounded was too painful to consider, so she immersed in her work like a diver in a reef, but at night, when the silence was only broken by the sounds of the Indonesian jungle around her, she couldn't stop the bitter tears that soaked her cheeks, dreading that she had broken them beyond repair.
When Caroline had called her, and asked her to return to help Cam before she lost her job, she had been giddy as she realized he was coming back as well. Her giddiness had receded before the real evidence of the fact that he had found someone to move on with. She had used every acting skill honed through years of hiding her emotions from the world, to hide the stinging bitterness of knowing he had moved on from his eyes. She had truly tried to be happy for him, to support him, to be a real friend, to be a better friend than she had ever been, but seeing what she could have had before her eyes so close and yet so far was breaking her. Feeling him pulling away, sensing that perhaps this was the very first time when the center was truly threatened, feeling that Hannah was the first woman to truly pose a threat to her and steal his heart, was more than her scarred heart could deal with. The Lauren Eames' case had come at a time when she was trying to valiantly show him she was there for him, as a friend, but it was seeing how this brilliant woman had lived her life, succeeding professionally but completely detaching herself from love and emotions, which made her realize she was walking a path dangerously leading her to the same loneliness and emptiness the doctor had experienced. When he saved her from meeting the same fate as the deceased doctor, dying alone and unwanted, when he proved to her that despite the fact that he had someone waiting for him at home, she still mattered to him somehow, she was unable to keep her emotions in. All her regret, all her pain, all her confusion came forth, but what had saddened her was to truly realize losing him hadn't been his choice, that he hadn't had any choice, because she hadn't given him any to being with.
She couldn't blame him for trying to be happy, and she felt ashamed and embarrassed, because a part of her had secretly and honestly hoped he would still be waiting for her, and she felt even more selfish at realizing she didn't want him to move on from his love for her, but that decision had been taken out of her hands when her only response to his "I have to move on" had been "can we still work together?", thus probably leading him to believe that all she wanted from him was his friendship and the success that came from their partnership.
She was a scientist, and she rationally knew that for every action, there was a reaction. She had been constantly and surely pulling away from him when he still bravely tried to hold on, to retain some semblance of their old relationship, even when staying close to her must have been killing him slowly. Even after Heather Taffet was convicted, and she voiced her fears to him outside Founding Fathers for the first time, and he desperately tried to make her see they could work through it, together, she had still pulled away because she couldn't confide in him that he was threatening the safety net that had been her shelter for most of her adult life, the net that had pulled her through years of abuse and heartbreak. She had made him leave, or as Angela would pull it, she had made it impossible for him to stay, and she couldn't blame him for finding someone who didn't hesitate to take his love and his heart.
She wiped her cheeks, and inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself, trying to stay on the path her mind had taken. Now, after so much pain, there was finally a new road before them. The possibility of forever was there, but she needed to be more, for him, but mostly for herself, and to do that, she needed to heal, she needed to let go of the fears so deeply rooted in her soul to give him the love that had always been there, inside her. She knew she would always feel that sense of apprehension, but she needed to find the way to truly start believing that she could be loved, and that she could love someone back, and be brave enough to start threading the uncharted waters of giving your heart to someone, and trusting that no matter what, that love would remain.
She clasped the blanket tighter around her body, and willed herself not to stray, but mostly, to face the questions that she needed to answer: she knew there was an even bigger question lying under the surface, a question that scared her beyond belief.
There was no doubt as to her motivations when she lunged for Parker, even if at the same time she was running to shelter him from the danger Taffet presented. She hadn't lied when she told him that she knew he couldn't go on without his little boy. She had seen it when he thought Epps had threatened Parker, how that crazy light in his eyes had only diminished when he was able to hold him in his arms, even if he had scared the poor boy to death when he shouted at him, demanding for answers.
She knew that to Booth, Parker was the center of his existence. That his little boy gave him the hope to continue fighting to right the wrongs of the world, to make it a better place for him. And ever since she had stared into the hazel eyes of that little angel, she had been mesmerized. She had never done well with kids, but Parker had proven to her that a part of her could relate.
She couldn't forget how Parker had, without his knowledge, eased her pain when he had voiced to Booth and Hannah that she was "so cool". To find someone who didn't instantly judge her as awkward had been a relief, and seeing the glint of trust and excitement in those innocent eyes had eased her heart. To live in a world where evil had taken him was unacceptable.
She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. Yes, she knew she would have never been able to live with herself if Taffet had succeeded into hurting him: she would have always blamed herself if he had been killed, she would have always assumed the responsibility for not doing more.
But now, with all of her wounds open to the air, practically smelling the putrefaction that years of hiding them instead of letting them heal had done to her soul, she knew she had to be brave enough to accept an even scarier realization.
When she saw what Taffet was about to do, she knew she would be hurt. Adrenaline was rushing through her bloodstream, but her brain hadn't stopped thinking, or analyzing the situation and its very possible outcome. And while her first thought indeed had been "Don'tletherhurthimDon'tletherhurthimDon'tletherhurthim, please", a mantra screaming inside her head nonstop until she reached Parker and felt the searing pain of the bullet, a second thought was viciously hiding underneath it all.
Her rationale had warned her, You'll be hurt, but her heart had screamed, perhaps you can make it go all away.
She let her head fall, and tears started falling down her cheeks as the thought presented itself with resonating clarity. She was a fighter, and not even in her darkest hours, not even when she was being abused, taking her life had been an option. But when Taffet threatened Parker, a part of her had jumped at the opportunity. She could go, being a hero, having saved his little boy, without them knowing that the thought of death didn't seem so scary to her anymore, that it was presenting itself as a welcome relief from the pain that was choking her with each passing day, engulfing her like a tidal wave of a tsunami that didn't seem to end.
She drew a ragged breath, ashamed at the idea that a part of her had even considered running like that from her problems, but the sadness she felt had been so overwhelming in its intensity it had made her thoughts grow impossibly dark.
And it was this moment of clarity that also made her realize where the root of her fear was. If losing Booth when she had never had him had done so much damage to her heart, what could happen when he truly left her? That was the root of her saying no to him that night, the root of her pretending to be ok with him finding love and happiness with a woman who couldn't love him the way she did.
Seeley Booth could be the source of her greatest joy, but at the same time, he could be the root of her deepest, darkest despair. He could take her to Heaven, but he could also show her Hell.
It was realizing how deeply he had engraved himself to every aspect of her life that posed the threat to her sanity, it was feeling how she didn't imagine her days without him in them that terrified the same 15 year old that still waited, perched on her window, waiting for her parents to return, the same 15 year-old that was still waiting on the house she had vacated long ago.
All rationale aside, she couldn't deny that what she experienced during her coma could very well happen. The searing pain inside her chest that returned as images of her life without Booth, of seeing him happy, without her, made her tears run faster. Perhaps it was true, and seeing her mother during her dream was indeed her brain's way of showing her what she consciously had been making blind to during those days. Though she could doubt the final outcome, a part of her had needed the empty comfort of knowing he wasn't completely happy without her, but seeing it had broken her heart. And the other side of the coin, their happiness, their joy, the sense of completion and righteousness that came from their joining couldn't be deny. A part of her wanted to scoff at the possibility of her turning into a wife and mother, but the heart that she had been denying herself for almost 20 years reminded her that once upon a time, she had believed in love, and she craved it.
She could say that being with him as a friend and partner could be compared to drops of sudden rain to wet her parched throat enough to keep her alive during a drought. She covered her face with her hands, and massaged her throbbing temples. Indeed, her life after her parents left until this point could be compared to a drought where love, like rain, was nowhere to be found until he came.
The overwhelming sense of happiness she had felt at the images of them together, of their family, of their love, couldn't be rationalized under the guise of an oxygen-deprived brain or the pull of the drugs used to sustain her. And if they were indeed simply the result of the trauma her body had suffered, the truth is that she longed to live those moments, and she wanted to grab on to them.
And to finally father the courage that had been escaping her for so long and heal for her and him, she had to begin at the real source of her infected wounds. Luckily for her, half of that source was less than 10 meters away, ready to give her the answers she had never dared get.
Well, I can only hope that I tackled every single aspect our Bren has to think about. I know this must have been hard to read, as it is only reflections on her mind, but I guessed we all needed to see her thought process and the root of her emotional issues.
TO make up for the long absence, next chappie will be up tomorrow afternoon, as I'm tweaking it already. It is all written, but I'm improving it.
I certainly hope this earned me your forgiveness. Whether it sucked or rocked, let me know, please. You are the fuel that gives the strength to continue writing among my pain!
Love you all, and remember to feed the musie. A happy musie pushes me to write faster!