"Fragile as a leaf in autumn,
Just falling to the ground without a sound.
Crooked little smile on her face,
Tells a tale of grace that's all her own."
'Seven Years', Norah Jones
oo00oo
Temperance Brennan sat at the bedside, staring at her partner. He was still unconscious following his surgery and she knew he wasn't going to wake up anytime soon.
She kept reaching out her hand to his and stopping just before. He looked so fragile, so weak. She was scared that she might break him.
He was always the strong one, the fighter. But where has that got him? A hospital bed full of tubes and drips and bullets and fire and… When he wakes up, he could be paralysed for the rest of his life, stuck in a wheelchair unable to play with Parker, unable to do his job, unable to live the life he wants.
My Booth, my poor broken Booth…
She shuffled the chair forward a few inches, the legs squeaking against the linoleum, sending a shiver down her spine akin to nails across a chalkboard. She grimaced slightly, closing her eyes against the sound for a moment, before returning her gaze to the man in front of her.
He was lying still, too still, the only movement the steady rise and fall of his bare chest. Bandages partially covered the thick burns which had erupted across his skin, cuts and grazes highlighting the fresh bruises which angrily covered his face and hands and every other part she cared to look.
My Booth, my poor broken Booth…
Her eyes focused on the drip in the back of his hand, her gaze following the maze of tubes implanted all throughout his body. Her heart seemed to slow in her chest at the sight of it all, at the pain it caused her in every fibre of her being.
She had taught herself to fight in every way she could. Protecting herself from the physical pain by learning martial arts and becoming a sharp shooter, protecting herself from the emotional by detaching herself and shutting down, but Booth… He was different.
His strength came from the emotions he felt as much as the power in his muscles. His strength came from his place in the world, his certainty of the power that comes through relationships, through his connection to the people around him.
His strength took her by surprise sometimes, his ability to stay strong against all the odds because he…
Because he loves. Because he knows that he is loved.
She missed his strength now. She needed his strength now. It was all falling to pieces, everything. It was only now that she realised just how much she relied on his strength under the pretence of being strong herself.
He was the one who had brought her out of her detachment, taken her heart out of the box she had sealed it in years before and made her use it. He was the one who had made her realise that opening her life up to other people meant that she ran the risk of getting hurt but that the rewards, the love and friendships she formed, made it all worthwhile.
But looking at the man she loved now, it certainly didn't feel worth it.
Her pillar of strength was now weak and broken, trapped in a prison of tubes and bandages and bleeping machines. Somewhere nearby she could hear the sound of a clock tick-tocking, tick-mocking.
Slowly, she inched the chair forward again, resting her forearm against the side of the bed as she leaned in closer to the man she loved, the man she would have given her life for to stop him suffering.
Tentatively, she reached out her hand and used the back of her fingers to stroke his cheek.
Please, don't be suffering…I know you're sleeping right now but please, just don't be suffering, don't be in pain. Not like me.
His eyelids fluttered slightly at her touch but they stayed closed.
Just a reaction to the change of environment when I touched him, just the electrical impulses in his brain firing up, just a random reaction, just nothing.
She sighed heavily, her hand sliding down his arm to grasp his fingers, raising them to her mouth to kiss them gently. Clutching his hand, she gripped it tight and held it to her chest as she used her free hand to carefully brush the stray hair from his forehead.
"Booth, I…"
What am I doing? It's not like he can hear me. He's unconscious. He's not aware of anything around him, not even me.
She blinked rapidly, the warmth of his hand in her grasp creeping through her shirt to tingle the skin beneath.
But there have been scientific studies showing that patients can react to the stimulus around them, even in comas. It can help them to fight whatever it is that's ailing them by hearing familiar voices, smelling familiar scents, feeling a familiar touch. So feel mine Booth, hear mine.
"Booth, you make me so mad sometimes."
Her voice was quiet and low, barely above a whisper, but with her mouth so close to his ear, she knew that if he was able to, he could hear her. And right now, she was getting angry.
"You knew how much I needed you, how much Parker needed you, we all did. You're the glue that holds our whole team together and without you… So what do you do? You go off to Iraq to fight the good fight, right? Always playing the hero, always needing to atone for the things you did as a sniper, the lives you took. Well, it nearly cost you your life. It nearly cost me mine in a way…"
She blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the floods of tears that threatened to fall again.
"What the hell am I supposed to do if you die on me, huh? How am I supposed to carry on knowing what we could have had together? You give me the briefest taste of what that life could have been like and then you run away from me, from all of us. It's not right, Booth, and you nearly made the rest of us pay the price."
Her voice got quieter still as she let the thoughts spill out of her, not caring how irrational or illogical she sounded. There was no one left to really listen anyway.
"It would be easy for you if they'd gotten what they wanted, if you had… if you'd died. It would all be over for you, but not for us. I know that you believe that there's something after, some place that we go when we die, but I think you accept that I can't believe that. Sometimes I want to but I just can't. It goes against all the science, all those irrefutable laws. And if you were awake right now, you'd argue with me. You'd point out miracles and anomalies yet to be explained by science as we understand it, and you'd say that maybe that was evidence of something else."
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, imagining the look of exasperation on her partner's face as he would attempt to make her comprehend his faith.
"But I don't see miracles, Booth. As far as I'm concerned, death is the be all and end all. I deal with it every day. I see the skeletons, I see marks from murder weapons, I catalogue and examine and identify and I search, Booth, I search. But never have I found what it is that you seek. I see no evidence of life beyond this. I wish I could, I wish I had that comfort in the dark hours when I get scared for you."
Brennan lost her battle against her own eyes, a solitary tear sliding down her cheek. She didn't even notice.
"Before I found out what happened to you, I had a horrid dream. I saw what it would be like without you there. I was at your funeral, standing in the middle of Arlington Cemetery and I was all alone. It was all so cold and grey and dark. None of it meant anything without you standing beside me. I was scared and I was alone, and you weren't there to help me. And that's why I'm mad, Booth. As stupid as it sounds, that's why I'm mad. Because as much as you want to play the hero and put things right, the hardest thing is just to stick around and face up to life day after day. You're the one who taught me that. You're the one who made me realise that we have to open ourselves up to the world in order to be a part of it. But if you…"
Words failed her briefly as the tears claimed her throat, choking her voice to nothingness until she managed to regain her composure.
"If you had died, it would be the rest of us who suffered. Not you, not the one who caused it all. It would be us left alone, me, wondering where you'd gone when I woke up in the middle of the night in an empty bed. It would be us that had to try and pick up the pieces and go on with our lives. Sometimes I think death is the easy way out. Instead of facing up to your past and battling all those demons you carry around with you, it's easier to go out like a hero in a blaze of glory."
She rested her head against his shoulder, still clutching his hand to her heart.
"I don't want a hero, Booth. I never have done. I don't need a man who feels like he has to be the knight in shining armour all the time. I don't need protecting, at least not like a fairy tale damsel in distress. I need protection from all this, the hospitals and the fear and the not-knowing what's going to happen. I love you so much, Seeley, and the idea of losing you… It kills me. It kills me."
She felt his fingers twitch against her own and knew it was just another involuntary reflex, just another neuron firing in his drug-addled brain.
"I don't need someone who feels like he needs to be a hero, Booth. You already are one. You don't need to go running off to the other side of the world to impress me. You did that just by standing beside me everyday, by showing me the kind of noble man you are. You were already my hero. So why did you have to go running off to Iraq just to get shot and blown up, huh? Why did you do that?"
The chest she was leaning on heaved sharply with a hoarse cough, causing her to jerk upwards and look straight in to the open eyes of the only man who she had ever loved, a man who was attempting to smile through both the pain he felt and the pain he knew he caused.
"Yeah, why did I do that? After all, I can stay in DC and get shot and blown up as much as I want. In fact, I think there's probably a queue of low-life volunteers wanting to help me out in just that kind of thing."
She just stared at him, her cheeks moist with tears. He squeezed her hand, his smile bright white amidst the angry reds and purples across his face.
"Hey Bones. Miss me?"
She clutched his hand tighter, a smile erupting across her taught and tired features.
"More than life itself."
She leaned closer, letting her lips brush against his gently, not wanting to cause him any more pain. Feeling him flinch slightly beneath her, she shifted backwards, planting herself firmly in the uncomfortable chair. But she didn't let go of his hand. Even as the relief washed through her at the sight of her partner alive and well, she couldn't let go of him. Not yet.
He attempted to flash her his patented charm smile but the pain showed in his eyes.
"Bones, do you mind not leaning on the tube that leads down, well, you know, down there…"
She jerked her arm up and he flinched again before settling back against the pillows with a heavy sigh.
"Thanks. Just, you know, you were kinda strangling the little fella there."
She grinned sheepishly, still unable to let go of his hand.
"I should get a doctor. How do you feel?"
Booth raised his eyebrows slightly as he looked down at the multitude of tubes and bandages covering his body.
"Like I got hit by lightening right after the tank ran me over."
He frowned slightly, casting her playful glance.
"Please tell me there wasn't a tank…"
Her grin widened at the familiar glint in his eye.
That's my boy…
"No, there was no tank. There were rocket propelled grenades, semtex and an awful lot of bullets, but no tank. At least as far as I know… It wasn't exactly the first thing I checked on."
He squeezed her hand and raised it to his lips, his eyes locked with hers.
"Tank or not, here I still am. And here you are. Thank you for coming, Temperance."
"Where else would I go?"
He smiled.
"Doctor Brennan, have I told you lately that I love you?"
"Agent Booth, is that a song quote?"
An eyebrow shot up with surprise.
"Bones, did you just get a pop culture reference? Ok, what kind of bizzaro world did I wake up in?"
She grinned and shook her head.
"I need to get you a doctor."
He pulled her towards him, careful to avoid any more painful mishaps with the variety of tubes surrounding him.
"I got all the doctor I need right here, Bones."
She kissed him full on the lips, letting herself sink in to the kiss she was scared she would never get.
He's alive and he's mine. I love him and he loves me. That's all that matters. That's all that ever mattered.
Extracting herself from his grasp, she backed away from the bed.
"We can play Doctors and Nurses another time, Booth. Right now, I want an MD not a PhD to check on you."
He shrugged slightly, though the flicker of pain in his eyes as he did so showed he instantly regretted it.
"Just… Just come back soon."
"You know I will."
She smiled and slipped out the door.
oo00oo
Susan Escrow sat at the nurse's station attempting to tackle the mountain of paperwork that had seemed to creep up on her throughout her shift. It never seemed to end.
Leaning back in her chair, she stretched her arms above her head with a satisfying pop of her muscles and let her eyes wander the corridors ahead of her.
A slim figure was emerging from one of the rooms, a mass of matted hair and puffy eyes.
Doctor Brennan.
Nurse Escrow immediately got to her feet, concerned as to why a woman who was obviously so much in love with the man she was visiting was now marching down the corridor towards her station.
But then she raised her head and those puffy eyes to Susan and the pounding of the nurse's heart immediately slowed.
Doctor Temperance Brennan was finally smiling again.
A/N: Yep, the warm and fluffies are almost back with a vengence. Two more chapters to go and then that's all folks! The penultimate update should be online later today/early tomorrow. Real life allowing of course... Now go on, press that button and submit a review. Go on, you know you want to...