Hey guys! Thanks so much for the lovely reviews, a pleasure to read as always. And a sequel would be fabulous She! Should we start writing? Lol ;)
Booth
The weeks have passed painstakingly slow since Bones' unexpected visit to the hospital. I've been keeping a watchful eye on her due to my inability to leave her alone. I will say that my presence has kept her from lingering over remains for hours at a time, but it has not extinguished that fiery nature, that's for sure). She's been difficult; sneaking around. She actually tried to arrange it so she could indentify long lost remains via the computer, while at home. Boy did I put a stop to that.
While I'm obligated to go to work, Angela and the rest of the Squints have been kind enough to pop in every now and again; making sure she is following the Doctor's orders.
"Booth, how can I get you to understand my predicament? I do not enjoy feeling unproductive, I'm letting valuable time just pass me by…I'm missing the opportunity to make a difference in the scientific field, I have been unable to solve murders….with you-"
She sits under the silken covers of our bed, hand on her belly, enthusiastically venting.
"I get it Bones."
It has been a long and grueling day and I sit on the edge of the bed untying my tie, letting her dreary remarks go in one ear and out the other.
Crawling to her side and settling on the right side of the bed that I've claimed, I rest my head on the pillow. "Okay Bones, look, this whole arrangement isn't forever. It's just to guarantee that we have a healthy child, you know? That everyone stays healthy. When all this is over, we'll look back and think how everything we've gone through was worth it."
She exhales loudly and crosses her arms. Her expression softens a little, but it is evident that the irritation is still there.
Sensing her fury, I press my thumb and index finger to pinch the bridge of my nose. I feel a headache coming on. Sighing deeply, my crumbled tie falls to the floor in a heap. We both sit back, staring up at the ceiling. The weight of the day crashes down upon us. I will everything to be washed away as I close my eyes, welcoming sleep.
Behind my eyelids I feel a shift on the bed as she leans over to her side table to switch off the light. I can tell that the action drenches the room in a velvety darkness. There is more shuffling and I feel a weight on my chest. She rests her head and hand against me.
"I'm sorry." She whispers.
"Bones, you have nothing to be sorry for."
"I'm sorry for being hard on you."
"You have a right to be upset."
"Booth. You know you don't have to be the hero all the time…I'm sorry."
I open my eyes and lightly smile down upon her. Wordlessly, she nestles closer to me and we close our eyes in unison.
My next conscious thought finds me running. I'm sprinting down the streets of D.C. in a seemingly endless maze that I can't escape. The scene shifts and I'm rushing through the desert, in bloody army fatigues. Faceless people linger over me, a sniper rifle materializes in my hands while I continue to run. The sudden sight of her amplifies my panic. Bones stands firmly, yards away from me, almost lost in a whirlwind of sand. Looking as lost and fearful as I feel, her eyes widen as the madman's voice contaminates the air:
"She'll be in the cold hard ground right along with you, but not before we finish her slowly… painfully…The time has come. For the both of you."
I try to get to her but she is lost in shadow.
Waking with a jolt, drenched in a cold sweat, I stare at the red, blaring numbers on the digital clock: 2:30 p.m. Temperance stirs beside me.
"What's wrong Booth?" Fatigue laces her words.
"I'm fine."Me trying to reassure her, I'm never convincing. "Just try to go back to sleep."
"Did you have a nightmare?"
"Something like that."
"Would you like to talk about it?"
"No."
"Why?"
I don't answer, but even in a sleepy state she is able to spout out scientific theories and psychological anomalies.
"Sweets says that human beings who have suffered distressing traumas can let go of such pent up issues and move on, but only if they can openly discuss what they are feeling. What are you feeling Booth? You can't keep everything buried in your heart."
"A. That doesn't sound like you at all. B. You need to stop hanging around with Sweets so much. C. You need your sleep Bones."
"Booth. Don't you want to let…what you experienced out there…go?"
"Yes, but you don't need to hear about that right now."
"There will never be a good time Booth…You promised to tell me. So why not right here, right now?"
"Because it will upset you."
"Please?"
I look into her pleading eyes, the blue glossy with the opaque light that fills the room.
"Alright."
The rest of the night is devoted to the revival of painful memories. She listens intently as I relay how a routine exercise went horribly wrong and how innocent men (sons of American families) were slaughtered without a second thought. I spoke of the Afghanistan supremacy group who scouted the area for people to aid them in their cause for domination. Her composure does not waver as I remember how her dignity and life were threatened by the man that I had refused to name. Until now. Farzam (such irony came with the meaning of his name: "worthy."). Everything came back in a rush of color and sound, and I felt transported back to this time. Months ago when I stepped into the boots of mindless killing machine…what I had done to survive.
She does not wince when I recall the threat Farzam made before I silenced him. How he had said his men would hunt me…us to the very ends of the earth if he were to fall. That didn't stop me. Scavenging for food and weaponry like an animal, I was forced to duel the ones who were left behind in the vastness of the desert.
Unblinking, I speak of the American soldiers that searched the area and found me, the daily doses of medication and treatment for dislocated joints, cracked ribs and other shattered bones, the psychological examinations, fake and unconvincing words of pity…how phrases like: "unfit to serve," and "questionable mental state" were everywhere. How I questioned my own sanity and humanity…Quickly discharged, I became known as the Sergeant who had lost control and his grip on reality. Defeated and worthless.
She can tell that I am beginning to lose it.
I've remained strong all this time, but now the tears swell. This is the first time she has ever seen me really lose composure. She continues to look at me and her poise does not waver. She places her chin on my head and pulls me close. Silent hot tears begin to fall from her cheek onto my face. Our tears blend together in a river of pain.
"Never forget who you are." She murmurs.
"I don't think I've ever known who I am." There is a long pause and all I want to do is disappear into the sheets.
"I do."
I look towards her and feel like I can't look away.
"You are a man Booth, a good one. Don't ever forget it. You are a lover and a father; you've shown me the worth of forging a meaningful relationship with someone, something that I once thought to be impossible, that I didn't deserve it. You've opened my heart to the possibility of having a family, someone who once thought that families were easily torn apart and destroyed. You make it so the righteous triumph, that the immoral fail. I now consider the belief that soul mates exist and that God…makes his presence known every day. You taught me that."
I'm rendered speechless.
"There is no one else in this world that I would want to be the father of my daughter."
"What?...D-daughter?"
She shakes her head and can't help but smile at my stunned expression.
Laughing now, I hug her and kiss her warmly.
"Wow…a daughter...my god" I can't believe it.
Resting against one another, the strong beat of her heart reassures me that no matter what life throws at us, no matter what hardships threaten the smoothness of our paths…the mistakes that are made; we will make them together and leave the past in the past. The happiness of it remembered and exalted, the sadness of it dissolved in the last of our tears.
Reviews Rock! Happy Halloween! xxxx