"Agent Booth, do you understand why you are here today?"
From beneath lowered eyelids Booth glared at the group gathered before him with utter disdain. Not more than twenty four hours since Jared had passed away, and he'd been ordered into a mandatory meeting at the bureau first thing that morning. He'd limped in on his crutches into one of the bureau's interrogation rooms (likely being used to intimidate him) to find himself standing before a who's who of the most powerful men running the bureau. Including A.D. Hacker. Wordlessly he'd slumped into a chair and let them make the first move in the game they were to engage in.
"I assume it's regarding Jared."
"You'd be right. We were informed of his untimely demise."
Booth sat himself up straighter. "And yet I don't think you called me here to offer me condolences."
The hint of an amused smirk flickered across Hacker's lips. "You're right. We didn't. We need to discuss Jared's involvement with the group he was affiliated with. We've been kind in giving you more than enough time-"
"More than enough time?" Booth growled. "I almost died from the attacks they carried out on me. I still have got a skull fracture, and the tendons and ligaments in my ankle are never going to be the same." Surgery was a possibility in his near future, he'd learned. Brennan had been trying to delay the procedure. But he knew he'd done too much damage to avoid it forever. "You think that's something that I'm going to just get over in a few weeks?"
"We understand the delicacy of the situation. We can't imagine the hell you've been put through. But the truth of the matter is Jared was still a member of a terrorist organization that carried out attacks and threatened the security of the American people. It's difficult to believe that he didn't share some of that knowledge with you during your time in captivity."
Booth's anger was burning in his stomach like molten hot lava. And just like a volcano it was threatening to erupt at any given moment. "Look, Jared and I had a complicated relationship. He stood by while they shot me, but fought through the fire at the compound to save my life. Outside of that he didn't tell me anything. I don't know how he got mixed up with them. He never told me."
One of his other superiors picked up the torch. "Speaking of which, we require a written account of what occurred during your time being held hostage."
Which time? He pressed his lips together in a fine line. Really, he had nothing to tell them. Pain and time had distorted his memories. The line separating the difference between fantasy and reality had been blurred. What he was certain of, he held close to his heart. His strife was absolutely something he didn't want to share. And so with his arms firmly crossed over his chest he continued to stare down his oppressors.
"Agent Booth?"
"I don't remember much. I don't know how much I can tell you. I guess I need more time." The dark twinge in his voice indicated his insolence.
"Well, until you do we have no choice but to take you off disability and suspend you without pay. If you value your job, you'll recall what events took place real quick. Please turn in your badge and gun."
"That's fine." Uneasily he rose from his seat. Down onto the table he dropped the leather wallet containing his badge. After disassembling his service weapon he set it down besides it. Bitterly he reminded them, "I've got a funeral I have to plan."
Leaving in a huff was challenging in his condition. But while balancing on his crutches he managed to slam the door behind him. He was halfway down the hall when he heard a voice call after him, "Agent Booth?"
He stopped long enough to glance over his shoulder. Hacker was standing just outside the interrogation room. Evil marked his eyes as he cautioned, "watch your back."
The advice felt more like a threat. He remained mum as the A.D. scurried back into the room he'd emerged from. Frantic, obsessive like thoughts hurled through his head at light speed. But one stood out from all the rest.
I'm still in danger.
"It is with a heavy heart and deep regret that we lay to rest Jared Booth. May the lord accept him into His loving, warm embrace. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust."
Brennan couldn't bring herself to raise her eyes away from the deadened grass beneath her feet. Besides her she could feel Booth's intensity. She knew though he was keeping himself composed, underneath the dark formal clothes he'd chosen to wear his muscles were as tight as coiled springs. He was doing his best to restrain his emotions, and she wasn't happy that he was succeeding. Funerals were meant for mourning; for grieving the death of a loved one. Yet he seemed to want no part of it. Then again, these days he didn't seem to want much to do with anyone.
Jared's death had reverted him back into the unfeeling, distant victim he'd been shortly after he'd begun his recovery following the abduction. Rarely did he spent much time around her. Quite often at night he wouldn't even share the bed. He'd disappear into the woodwork, and it'd be hours before he'd make another appearance. Where he went and what he was feeling remained a mystery. He was a tough egg she had yet to crack.
The priest having finished his speech, her heart wrenched in her chest to have to witness Booth drop a fistful of dirt onto the coffin. He then turned and shifted on his crutches to hurry away from the group that had assembled around them. Brennan could tolerate no more than a few sympathetic glances from their friends before her nose turned up in disgust. She gave chase to Booth whom had covered more distance in a short time than she had expected. As well as she could in heels she gave chase to him. "Booth-"
He stopped, but from what she could discern it was more from exhaustion then it was desire for her company. Since he failed to face her she planted herself in front of him. "Where are you going?"
In a mournful voice he admitted, "I don't know. I just needed to get away from them. I want to be alone."
She frowned. "This is the time you shouldn't be alone. Your family needs you." Both Pops and his mother had attended the funeral. The two found solace in one another rather than being able to rely on the one person who was the closest to them.
He chuckled. "No one needs me, Bones."
"Booth-"
His sudden explosive burst of anger threw her for a loop. "It should be me in that coffin! Don't you get that? He shouldn't have sacrificed himself for me. How could I let this happen? I swore I'd always keep him safe. I failed him." Tears burned his eyes. "I failed him."
Not this again. "No. No, you didn't. You're being blinded by your pain-"
"What the hell do you know about it?"
I can't lose my temper. Something isn't right with him. "This isn't you, Booth. Can't you see that? Something's wrong. Please." She grasped his wrist. "Talk to me. Allow me to help you."
He ripped himself away from her. "I just want to be left alone."
"I can't do that. Especially now."
More sharp tongued, wounding words were sure to pierce her. But just as he opened his mouth to cut into her the sound of some sort of an explosion several yards away had him jerking back from her. The abrupt transferring of his body weight threw him off kilter. His jelly legs slipped out from underneath him. Down into the grass he fell.
"Booth." She was kneeling by his side in an instant. "It was just a car backfiring."
He wasn't listening to her. All around the cemetery grounds his eyes were darting to and fro. His eyes were perfect saucers. Even his nostrils were flaring. She wouldn't have been at all surprised to see him begin to tremble.
She put her hand on his cheek and gave him no choice but to look at her. "What is wrong?"
Moments passed before he collected himself. "Nothing. I just… I want to go home now. Please."
She obliged. Together they maneuvered him back up onto his feet and limped him to her car. Once inside she noticed how his eyes continued combing the environment.
He still believes he isn't safe. Perhaps he needs professional intervention and treatment for a brain injury. I'm not sure there's anything left for me to do for him. Down trodden, she lowered herself into the driver's seat. I'll get him help. I just don't know how.