Chapter 31: Restoring What Was Lost

That first night back, she'd stayed at his house. The second night, he'd stayed at hers. She and Angie shared a bed. He'd had one to himself. By the third night, they were back to being independent women, fully capable of spending the weekend on their own. He called, though. Every night, and every morning- he called. They were never of much consequence, these phone calls, just a simple check-in. After the first night, there had been no further rehashing of all that had happened, no further discussion of all that they were and were not. The calls were brief, light, ordinary...a return to all that was familiar.

It was on Sunday, the third night of her reclaimed independence, that he broke the news. He'd known for a while, as he'd already returned to work, even though she'd taken a few days off. He'd also known she wouldn't like it, which is why he'd waited until Sunday...the last possible moment.

"Hey, Bones, um, one more thing," he said, just before he hung up.

"What?"

"See, I can tell from your tone, you already think what I'm going to tell you is going to be bad. You've got to learn how to relax, not always expect the worst-"

"Booth?" Her patience was waning.

"Yeah."

"Blow it out."

"Spit it out." His response was automatic.

"What?"

"The saying is 'spit it-'"

"BOOTH."

"Okay, okay. You're not going to like it, though."

Her breath caught, and her stomach turned. They're going to end our partnership. They won't want me working with the FBI anymore. They're going to say my semi-romantic involvement with Andrew showed poor-

"They're going to make us talk to Sweets."

She scrunched up her face and held her phone out in front of her for a moment, looking at it as though it might be able to offer an explanation. "Huh?"

"They're going to make us talk to Sweets," Booth repeated, sounding completely downtrodden.

"That's it? That's all you had to tell me?"

"Yeah." Now it was Booth's turn to hold out the phone and look at it as though it were crazy. "But what do you mean 'that's it'? You hate having to talk to Sweets."

Brennan smiled and rolled her eyes before laughing softly. "Apparently not as much as you do."

"I thought you'd be upset!" Booth sounded almost offended.

"I suppose narrowly escaping death has changed my perspective."

Booth scoffed. "It never has before."

Brennan laughed again. "Now you're just pouting. Come on, Booth, it could be fun...you and me, cutting circles around Sweets."

"Running circles, Bones. It's 'running' circles."

"Goodnight, Booth."

"See you bright and early at the kid's office, Bones."

oOo

The next morning, sitting across from Sweets and beside Booth, surrounded by silly stress balls, Temperance Brennan was doing her best not to smile. Booth had been correct yesterday; under normal circumstances, being forced to meet with Dr. Sweets would have been very annoying. Under the current circumstances, considering how close she'd come to losing everything, doing something as mundane and familiar as sitting in Sweets' office was nearly intoxicating. The everyday-ness of everything, it made her irrationally happy...though she would deny it if questioned.

So, Booth was slouching in his chair, trying to convey his displeasure; she was in her place beside him, trying to hide her happiness; and Sweets was staring across from them...looking like he was going to cry. The partners realized it simultaneously, and identical looks of horror crossed their features as they watched a single tear tumble over the psychologist's face. Booth sat up straight, and Brennan shifted uncomfortably.

Wide-eyed, she turned to her partner. "Do something," she hissed.

"Like what?" He whispered back, eyeing Sweets nervously.

"I don't know. Make a joke to put him at ease...something about his youthful appearance, or his participation in science fiction subcultures."

"Why don't you do it? Distract him with your latest argument against the merits of psychology."

"I can hear you guys, you know." Sweets' voice was both affronted and pathetic.

"Well, snap out of it, kiddo," Booth said. "What happened, did someone ruin your Klingon costume?"

Brennan smiled at him encouragingly. "Nicely done, Booth."

Booth smiled back. "Thanks, Bones."

"Oh my God, can't the two of you just be serious for a minute!"

Booth and Brennan exchanged a glance that clearly communicated 'Who does he think he is?' "I was being serious," she said.

"I know, Bones," Booth turned his attention back to Sweets. "We'd be happy to be serious for you, buddy, but you've just been staring at us with your sad eyes since we got here. Do you have something you want to talk about?...And aren't you the one who's supposed to be asking us that?"

Sweets sighed. "I'm sorry, guys. I just...I owe you an apology."

Brennan was confused. "You just apologized."

"No...I...look, the other day, with Hacker, when I thought you were dead?" Sweets looked intensely at Brennan, and she nodded at him to continue. "It was awful. It was awful and sad and scary..."

"That's very kind of you, Dr. Sweets. I can assure you that I would also be distressed if I thought I'd just overheard your murder." Brennan smiled at Sweets, then looked to Booth for reassurance that she'd said the right thing. He gave her a thumbs-up.

"Thanks, Dr. Brennan, but that's not what I'm trying...Okay, so the other day was awful, but it only lasted a little while, less than an hour." The partners exchanged another look that confirmed that they thought he'd lost it, then looked back at him expectantly. "I just...Dr. Brennan...Later, when we found out you were actually alive...That was great. I mean, seriously, one of my top moments ever...but then, suddenly, I thought about when the FBI had faked Agent Booth's death, and how long that had lasted, and how awful that must have been for you-"

"Sweets," Booth broke in darkly, "do you have a point?"

The psychologist took a deep breath, then released his words in a rush. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I kept the truth from you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you he was alive. To observe your reaction? I can't believe I did that. You deserved better treatment from me than that. It was awful, and I was wrong, and I'm sorry."

Brennan gaped at him. They'd been over this. Years ago. She caught the psychologist's eye, then cut her glance meaningfully over to Booth.

It took a moment for Booth to fully process Sweets' hasty confession and apology...for him to realize that it contained new information. When he did, he stood with enough force to knock his chair back several feet. Brennan stood too, alternating between watching Booth pace and watching Sweets bumble.

Booth stopped at the far corner of the room and zeroed his dangerous glare in on Sweets. "Repeat what you said." His voice was calm, icy.

"Booth-" Brennan tried to interrupt, but her partner held up his hand to silence her.

"Repeat. What. You. Said."

Sweets stood up and walked around to the front of the desk, closer to Booth. "I lied to you. I didn't think Dr. Brennan could compartmentalize your death. I wanted to use the opportunity to find out." He gulped when he saw Booth's eyes narrow, his fists clench. "I didn't know you guys then like I know you now, but still... It was cruel, and last week I realized just how cruel. Man, I am so, so sorry."

Booth was shaking from rage. "Apologize to her," he ground out through gritted teeth.

Sweets was standing directly beside Brennan. He turned to her with his hand over his heart. "Dr. Brennan, I apologize. I wish I could take it back."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Yes, we've already talked about this Dr. Sweets. Now stop groveling. It's very unattractive."

Booth stepped forward. "No, Sweets, keep groveling." He turned to Brennan, his eyes searching hers. "You knew about this?" When she nodded, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I handled it. I told Sweets that I knew what he had done and that he better never do it again, or you would beat him up. It was a long time ago."

"Damn right, I'm going to beat him up." Booth and his clenched fist stepped toward the psychologist, and Brennan put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"It's okay, Dr. Brennan," Sweets said bravely. "Let him hit me. I deserve it."

"See, Bones? He deserves it."

Brennan kept her hand on her partner's chest and gave him a reprimanding look. "I was the one he hurt, Booth. If anyone's going to hit him, it's going to be me."

"Uh-uh, Bones. He hurts you, he hurts me..."

Booth kept talking, but Brennan didn't hear him. "He hurts you, he hurts me." She stopped there for a moment, wanting to examine those words more closely. She didn't get very long though, because Booth was looking at her expectantly, gesturing for her to go ahead.

"What?" She asked.

Booth grabbed Sweets by his shoulders, and turned him to face her. "Go ahead," he said matter-of-factly, "hit him."

"I'm not going to hit him," she said, not missing the relief on Sweets' face. "Not now, anyway. It would be far more enjoyable to surprise him, get my revenge when he least expects it." Booth released the psychologist, but he still looked tense. Brennan nudged him with her hip. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth before and let you beat up Sweets." She saw the hint of a smile cross his face. "You can't stay mad at me about it, though, because I almost died last week." It was an illogical argument, but she knew it would work on Booth. His smile got wider. "Now sit down, so we can continue our mandatory therapy session. Sweets needs it...he's obviously traumatized."

Booth was reluctant, but eventually he sat down. Sweets dried his eyes and went back to his side of the desk, happy to have gotten that off his chest. After a few seconds of loaded silence, they got down to work.

oOo

They talked about what happened- about hero complexes and running out of time, about protecting a child and losing control. It wasn't difficult to discuss, because Booth and Brennan had already said everything that mattered the night she'd shown up at his house. So they answered Sweets' questions, and they closed ranks when they needed to...or when it was simply more fun to do so.

They were relaxed, open. Things were normal, everything as it should be. That's probably why Sweets missed it. It's probably why Booth didn't catch it in time.

It's a tricky thing, choosing to be a different way. For years, since she had met Booth, Brennan had been experimenting, trying out a different way of being, a different way of looking at the world. It was a slow experiment, nearly glacial at times. It's another reason why they missed it, why they weren't more careful.

She was getting ready to fall, to declare her experiment a success. She was right at the edge, poised to tip.

Then, Sweets said, "Dr. Brennan, let's talk about your romantic relationship with Andrew Hacker. It must be difficult for you, having to reconcile the man you dated with the man who tried to kill you. How are you doing with that?" It was an obvious question, a necessary one.

She curled her toes, backed away from the edge. Hacker. She'd dated him. She'd never suspected. She'd brought him into her home, into Angie's life. She hadn't seen. The dead made sense. She could always see the dead. The living, though. She had never been good with the living. She could never predict what they were going to do, or how she would react.

Her eyes moved to her partner. He was smiling a goofy Booth smile, still too caught up in the comfort of their earlier banter to realize things had shifted. Booth. She loved Booth. Loved him. To love was dangerous, and she was careful. Everyone around her had always been careless. She couldn't afford to be. She couldn't afford to lose, to hurt, or be hurt. She had never been good with the living.

Her earlier feeling of intoxication dissolved. She hardened her features, not entirely ready to give up on her old way of being. She looked at the psychologist directly and said, "It certainly confirms my belief that I should be alone."

Booth, Sweets- they hadn't expected such an answer. But they should have. Defenses, carefully constructed over a lifetime, they don't crumble without a fight. They always go down swinging.

TBC