Booth's parents called Jared over to their house. It was a letter from their younger son and it was addressed to the three of them. They all knew that this couldn't be good.
His mom sat on the chair by the window. It was raining outside and she knew that the letter wasn't going to be a good one. Tears slowly slid down her face. When Seeley wrote them letters, they were never good. The fact that he had sent one when they had been told he had been called by the Rangers by his boss… Her maternal instincts kicked in. It was his goodbye letter to them. She held back a sob as she walked over to her husband and youngest child.
His dad sat on the end of the couch with a blank stare on his face. He was trying to count how long it was since they were told about his older son's call back to duty. He was blaming himself again as he knew what letter this was. Something went wrong. He had been a soldier when he was younger, and he knew that everyone that had someone wrote at least one letter before they shipped out. They left the letter with someone they trusted, usually their Commanding Officer. Seeley left his, this time, with his boss, Deputy Director Cullen.
His brother was looking at his mother and father. He too knew what was written in that letter. He wasn't sure what Seeley had written, but he knew what it said all the same. It was the 'Sorry, something went wrong and I'm dead letter,' that his big brother wrote every time he shipped out. He wondered how many letters were written this time. He knew it was wrong, but he hated his brother, the one that had always looked out for him no matter what was going on, for the pain he was causing the people who loved and needed him most at the moment. The rain matched the mood and atmosphere wrapped around the family at that time.
"Well, I guess I'll read it," Booth's father said. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he pulled open the flap of the envelope and pulled out the letter covered in the writing he had seen come from a pen or pencil in his son's hand countless times before. His wife put a hand on his thigh and leaned against him as his other son walked toward the window, not wanting his family to see the tears forming in his troubled eyes.
Quietly, he began to read the letter. He felt his wife's hand shaking nervously, hoping her instincts were wrong, against his thigh. As he took a deep breath, he looked toward the window at his son. His shoulders were turned in and his hand kept running across his eyes. "'Dear Mom, Dad, and Jared. I love you all…'"
As he finished the letter, his wife let out the sob she had been trying so hard to contain and went to the kitchen to clean. She knew that if she didn't do something to try to clear her mind before she dealt with this, she would make herself physically sick crying. She looked around the kitchen and saw her son everywhere. Sitting at the table doing his homework. Leaning into the refrigerator looking for pie. Standing against the wall with the phone to his ear, charming the girl that he was interested at that point in time. As her body gave out, she leaned against the cabinets under the sink, and cried until she threw up. She cried herself to sleep after cleaning up the mess, crying all the while.
Jared watched his mother walk into the kitchen. He wiped at his eyes one more time, said "Damn it, Seeley. You bastard," and walked toward the basement to work out his emotions. As he worked to push his body to the extremes, he thought about his brother. Seeley had only been doing what he thought was right -protecting his country and trying to make the world a better place for his family, friends, and the generations to come. Silently, he laid his head against the machine he had been using and cried for the brother he never showed enough respect toward, the brother he loved even though they seldom stood eye to eye.
"Seeley, son, why? Why did you have to follow in my foot steps? I fought so you would never have to," he murmured as he walked out of the door into the rain. He was going for a run so he could think and try to figure out why his son would risk his life. He knew the reason, of course. It was the same as his reason. But, as a father, he mourned for his lost son in the only way he knew how. He treated his body as if he was back in the Army, the place that took his son away from him. He ran until he was numb. Numb was good. When you were numb, you couldn't feel pain. He ran all the way to the park. When he got there, he sat against a tree. He sent a prayer toward the Heavens, toward his Seeley. The more he prayed, the harder he cried. He told his son all of the things he wished he had while his son was still alive. He cried until it was very dark. He cried as he ran back home, seeking the numbness and weariness that would make him sleep even though he would dream the dreams of a father would had just lost his son.