Chapter 25: It's a Hard Knock Life
Brennan hovered somewhere between sleep and consciousness, aware of each time a nurse came in to check on her vitals and each time they left. So when someone came in and didn't leave, she was aware of that as well and opened her eyes, making the careful effort to turn her aching head and see who it was.
His wide shoulders were slumped as he sprawled out on the chair beside her bed, hands cradling his head, and she couldn't be sure if he was sleeping or not. Orange light filtered through the blinds as the sun set and it seemed to cast a dark shadow over him, making him look even more dejected.
"Booth," his name escaped her lips in a raspy whisper too low to be heard, so she licked them and swallowed a few times before trying again. "Booth!"
"Bones!" his head shot up, a wide grin splitting his face as he leapt to his feet and bent over her.
"Hi," her voice was a little stronger, though.
"Do you know what day it is?" he asked anxiously. "And who I am? And how you got hurt? And-"
He stopped when she reached out with the hand that was not attached to an IV and touched him, "It's Thursday. You are Special Agent Seeley Joseph Booth. I was injured when a live round struck my flack jacket, propelling me into a wall." She paused, looking straight into his eyes, "And none of this is your fault."
His adam's apple bobbed up and down with emotion, eyes becoming slightly watery, his hand reaching out to grasp hers, "I'm your partner, Bones- during the exercise, and in our personal life. It's my job to protect you and I didn't."
"Did you load that live round in with the others?" she asked earnestly, still keeping her hand within his.
"No," he shook his head vehemently. "I would never- I could never-" He stopped, unable to complete the sentiment.
"I know," she soothed and squeezed his hand tightly. "I know. You could never do such a thing and that is why it isn't your fault. There wasn't anything you could've done differently unless you had prior knowledge of the sabotage."
He hooked the chair with his foot and dragged it closer to the bed so that he could maintain contact with her and sat down with a loud, long sigh, "This isn't good, Babe. Whoever's behind all this has a long arm to be able to pull everything off."
"You believe this was the work of the same person or persons who broke into my lab?"
"It's not too much of a long shot," he grimaced. "And they've gotta be keeping a pretty close eye on us too."
Brennan was just about to agree when the doctor came in with the results from the CT scan they'd done when she was admitted. As she suspected, there was a thin fracture along her occipital bone from where the kinetic energy of the bullet had pushed her back hard into the wall that she'd been only inches away from. She was more relieved, however, when he allowed her to examine the results for herself, and she found that no significant damage had been done and there was no visible inter-cranial bleeding.
"What about the bullet?" Booth wanted to know. "Anything serious from where it hit?"
"You're FBI?" the doctor asked, eying the academy t-shirt Booth was wearing. Booth nodded and the man went on, "Then as you probably know flack jackets act as more of an absorber than anything. They catch the bullet and spread its impact out so that it can't pierce through to the body, but they still pack a punch.
"In Dr. Brennan's case, the bullet hit her abdomen, but she was far enough away from the shooter and had a very good vest on. There were no bones to potentially break where she was hit and the ultrasounds we've performed suggest there is no abnormal bleeding," he turned to Brennan. "You will have a nasty bruise for a while."
Booth saw Brennan's eyes flick down to her stomach as she nodded, then he asked, "And her head wound?"
"All stitched up," the doctor assured him, "and they're the dissolving kind so she won't need to come back in."
"I'm fine, Booth," she sought to assure him. "Bruised and sore, but fine." She turned to the doctor, "Will you be discharging me soon?"
"Will he be staying with you tonight?" the doctor questioned her.
"Agent Booth and I live together, so yes," she affirmed.
"Good," he gave a curt nod before addressing Booth once more. "She does have a slight concussion, so just keep an eye out for any of the warning signs on the sheet we'll send home with you. Sleeping isn't a problem, but we do want to know about any nausea or vomiting. I'd also advise against going back to work and any other strenuous activities."
"I'm not a child," Brennan spoke up, displeased with how the man was talking to Booth as if she wasn't sitting right there listening to him.
"Maybe not," the man gave a rueful grin, "but you strike me as the stubborn type the way you're itching to get out of that bed and go home, and please don't take this the wrong way, but I don't want to see you again. Especially for something that you could've easily prevented by giving your body enough time to heal itself. I'm releasing you because you have someone to help you but I need to know you will accept that help and not push yourself."
A rush of air escaped her lips, but she nodded and Booth promised the doctor he'd take good care of her.
"Would you pass me my clothes, Booth?" she asked as soon as the doctor was out of the room. "They're in a paper bag in that small closet."
"A little antsy there, Bones?" he teased, retrieving the bag.
She gave him a small smile that told him antsy didn't even start to cover it and began to peel off her hospital gown. Unfortunately, she realized she was still hooked up to the IV.
"Whoa, hey, what do you think you're doing, Bones?" he asked as she started peeling back the medical tape on her hand.
"It's not as if I haven't taken an IV out before, Booth," she rolled her eyes as she pulled the needle free and casually hung the line over the side of the bed. "I am a doctor."
She still didn't have a shirt on, which was driving him to distraction but managed to stutter, "Well- um- I'm your medical proxy, and hey, while we're on that topic, when did that happen?"
"I signed the paperwork about a month after you were shot," she informed him, wincing a little as she tried refastening her bra.
"Really?" he took pity on her and turned her around so that he could help. "Why then?"
"When you were shot," she said over her shoulder, "one of the most frustrating things was that I wasn't legally allowed to be updated on your condition no matter how much I begged and cajoled. Privacy acts in the medical realm are taken very seriously. By making you my medical proxy I assured that you would not be treated in the same manner I was should something happen to me. You could be granted access to my room as well as my medical file."
"Okay," he nodded, very touched that she wanted to take care of him even back then. "That's a pretty big responsibility to hand over, you know? Especially if you were hurt badly enough."
"There's no one I trust to make the proper medical decisions for me in my stead, Booth," she finished dressing and laid a hand on his arm. "I have the utmost faith that you would do whatever you felt was in my best interests, and should something arise that you were unfamiliar with, you would consult Cam as to the proper course of action."
"Faith, huh?" he guided her shaky footsteps back to the bed and helped her sit down.
"Hodgins assures me that's what I have in you and from a logical standpoint he is correct," she smiled at him.
"Well, thanks," he smiled back, "and maybe when we have some time you can tell me what to do to get you listed as mine? That way neither one of us has to worry."
"I would like that," she said softly.
It took another hour before Brennan was officially discharged and given a prescription for an anti-inflammatory, as well as a painkiller for her headache; which was still substantial. She found she was still slightly unsteady on her feet, but Booth merely wrapped an arm around her waist and walked beside her, encouraging her to lean into him as much as she wanted to.
By the time they got home they were both tired and hungry, so Booth made sure she was comfortable on the couch and then whipped up a few sandwiches for them and popped in an old John Wayne movie. Once the food was gone he popped the recliner out so they could nestle closer. Brennan tried hard to stay awake, but her weary body had other plans and she was lulled to sleep by the steady beat of Booth's heart.
B&B&B&B&B&B&B
Booth had every intention of calling off work the next day, but Annie showed up at seven-thirty ready to spend the day with Brennan and he reluctantly left, promising he would return at lunchtime. Brennan was pleasantly surprised when the other woman didn't treat her like an invalid, but rather let her do all of the simple tasks she could, only taking over or doing something entirely for her when it was necessary.
They spent the morning engaged in conversation surrounding the current state of the American higher education system, comparing some of the various types of grad students they'd both had over the years. Annie also shared about what a hard working student Booth had been when she'd had him, and how proud she'd been of him when he'd earned his Master's. That facet of Booth's personality was one she hadn't realized existed before they'd begun dating and it both intrigued her and made her realized just how little he'd shared about certain aspects of his life over the years.
True to his word, Booth came home to eat lunch with them, then explained that his class for the afternoon had been canceled pending the investigation into what had gone wrong the day before, but he still needed to fill out and submit a stack full of paperwork before he could come home. Annie suggested he bring Brennan along to sit in his office with him, just to give her a change of scenery. This idea very much appealed to Brennan, and it appealed to her even more when he agreed that she could bring her laptop and get a small amount of her own work done.
By three in the afternoon, Booth was done with everything for the week and they took off for DC. He still wasn't sure that having an excitable ten year-old on their hands for the weekend was the best of ideas, but Brennan refused to let the boy down and truth be told she was very much looking forward to watching Parker's big game and hosting the barbeque at their house afterward.
Booth refused to let Brennan go grocery shopping with them on the way home as she was already starting to flag. He also suspected that for every wince or groan that made it to the surface, there was a whole lot more that she was keeping to herself. He hated that she was feeling like crap, hated even more that it had happened on his watch, and after all that had happened to them so far he couldn't help the paranoia that was creeping in.
Still, as she pointed out, they needed food for the next day so he had no choice but to either let her go and chance her pushing herself too far, or leave her at home, alone. Parker, understanding only one part of the adults' conversation, offered to stay behind and "take care of Dr. Bones" for his dad, and after several assurances that the two would be fine together and that Parker knew how to dial Brennan's phone in case of an emergency, Booth left for the grocery store.
"How come Dad was so worried?" Parker asked as they sat down at the dining room table to a game of checkers.
"He doesn't like it when people he loves are in pain," she tried to explain.
"Yeah," Parker nodded sagely, "I cut my finger pretty bad once and he was really freaking out about it even though I was okay. I didn't even have to get stitches." He paused for a second before asking, "Is your head gonna be okay?"
"Yeah," she nodded, touched by his concern. "The bones will take some time to remodel, but they will heal, and the bruises will fade."
He looked at her thoughtfully, "Will you still be able to be my dad's partner when you guys come back to DC?" She nodded her head and he smiled broadly, "Good, 'cause he really likes working with you, Bones, and I like it too. The Jeffersonian is super awesome!"
Parker went on to tell her all about his latest science class with her father, and that he would be attending a science camp later in the summer at the museum that covered some of the very basic elements of forensic science. She smiled wistfully when he mentioned that they would get to tour the lab, including the forensic platform, and when he began to talk about getting to see Cam and Max, she felt a wave of homesickness tug at her.
An impatient knock interrupted them, increasing in pitch and fervor as she got up and slowly walked over to answer it.
"Keep your pants on Booth," she called as she finally reached the door and opened it. "Happy now?"
The person waiting on the other side of the door, however, was not Booth. And they were not happy.