Author's Note: I know what you're thinking. Yet another HitH story, right? Well...yes. It is another. But I hope it's different enough to stick out in the mass of them out there.
I heard a lot of people talking about how Brennan didn't seem as emotional in this episode as Booth did in Aliens In A Spaceship. While I agree with some of that, I think her emotions were easy enough to read. That being said, I wrote this. For the most part, it centers around Brennan and her thoughts on things. The scenes get longer toward the end due to the fact that I felt they either needed to be fleshed out, or in the very end, there was just that something that could have been added.
Enjoy! And please...leave a review?
They were talking, laughing...and then her phone rang.
The computerized voice startled her, paralyzing her for only a second. The fear that arose at the reality that one of their own had been taken was almost to much to bear.
But then it hit her.
Booth. The Gravedigger had taken Booth.
Her own memories of being trapped underground, of slowly running out of both air and time, flooded quickly to the front of her mind.
Brennan looked up to see the faces of her colleagues and friends slowly go from jovial to concerned, and she knew they had to get to work right away.
"I don't love Booth."
The words left her mouth, but were quickly followed by resistance from Angela. Ever the best friend, she was there to push Brennan in the right direction just when she needed it most.
She couldn't stop moving, couldn't stop doing. Every second she stood still was a second taken away from finding Booth. Every second was one more he wouldn't have, one more they wouldn't have.
Despite her insistence, Brennan knew it was a lie. Truthfully, she did love Booth. Maybe it wasn't in the way Angela hoped it was and was always talking about, or maybe it was.
Brennan cringed, thinking that how she felt wouldn't matter if they couldn't find him.
There was a moment, a really long moment, when she thought Jared wouldn't come through. While she knew what she was asking was huge and definitely illegal, she also knew there was little choice-at least in her mind-on the matter.
But then she saw him stride into the lab, the body on Thomas Vega in tow. The look on his face told her he wasn't entirely happy about it. The stealing a body, not the saving his brother.
Brennan remembered the way Booth looked when he lost the RICO case in exchange for saving Jared. She remembers how defeated he looked at the realization he and Jared were caught in a circle; Booth always doing the saving, Jared always needing to be saved.
This moment, the one where Jared risks his entire career in an effort to save his brother, it does something. While Brennan wouldn't exactly call it "making up for it", she knows it's definitely real and important.
She only hopes Booth will stay alive long enough to see it himself.
In her work, Brennan has seen all forms of hatred. The way a father cracked his son's skull, or a man shot and killed the woman he loved because she didn't love him in return. There were other forms of hate, those that consumed entire cultures.
But those are nothing compared to what she feels when looking at Taffet. Those pale in comparison to the frustration, the utter...Brennan realizes there's no name for it...but it runs through her like nothing she's ever felt before.
There are so many questions she wants to ask her. Her. The word still catches Brennan off guard, because it still doesn't make sense. How could a woman of her size drag Booth out a window and into a ship without being noticed?
None of it matters, at least as much as finding him.
She hears a satisfying crack when she slams the briefcase against the side of Taffet's head and watches as she falls. The questions she has can wait, Brennan thinks. Booth can't.
She hears Jared's voice on the other end, hears him saying things her mind can't competely process. Of course she'll keep Booth safe, but why can't he be there to help in the matter?
Of course, Brennan thinks, the authorities would have caught up with them at some point, and he would have to pay. She isn't quite sure what to think about that.
The pilot says something and then they're slowly descending, landing on the boat. But there's not enough time, there can't be a single thing that goes wrong. If they want this to go right, which Brennan knows they do, then they can't afford any mistakes.
Then, just like that, she sees him. All of the hours of waiting, of searching, have led them to this moment. She cries out his name, urging him to hurry, only to receive a slightly confused and dazed look in return. She calls for him again, fighting the urge to run out and carry him herself to safety.
Finally, he's making progress in he direction of the helicopter. He grabs the handle of the door, and with a little assistance, hoists himself in. Sitting there like that, hurt and still in a little bit of a stupor, Booth allows himself to for once be the one who gets comforted.
Brennan hears the explosion from below, and wraps Booth even tighter in her embrace. The pilot yells for them to hold on, and she nearly laughs, because at the moment the only thing they have to hold onto is each other. Finally, he was able to pull them out of the effects from the explosion, but Brennan still doesn't let go. She couldn't, not that she would, because at the moment, Booth's head is resting against her shoulder and his arms are linked around her. There's the doctor side of her, the one that is fighting the urge to push him away in an effort to examine his injuries. But then there's another side, the one that is much more prominent, that doesn't let go until the helicopter lands.
"Bones."
She hears him call her and nearly runs from the chair across the room. Guiltily, she'd been sleeping, though she's not entirely sure he'd blame her. "You're awake. How are you feeling?"
Booth winces as he tries to shift in the bed, his eyes closing for a moment due to the pain. "I've felt worse."
Brennan smiles, too relieved that he's there and he's safe to do much else. "I'll tell the nurse to up your medicine."
He grabs her wrist, though not forcibly, and waits until she looks at him. "I don't need more medicine, Bones. I need-"
There's a pause, one that Brennan doesn't know how to fill. She watches as his eyes glaze over for a minute, and she starts to consider calling for his doctor, until she watches his mouth open to speak.
"I just-" Booth pauses again and covers her hand with his. He squeezes it with as much strength as he can muster. "I need to tell you something. It's...I've known it...for a while, I guess. But-"
"Booth?" Brennan interrupts, feeling guilty but also knowing he needs to sleep. "Get some rest, whatever you have to say can wait."
Booth wakes up a few hours later feeling a lot better than he did before. The memories are still there and probably always will be, but the pain is at least not as bad as before. He feels her hand, warm underneath his, and for the first time since going missing, is able to smile. Of course she's there.
The doctors come, perform a few tests. They want him to stay, but he of course won't hear of it. There's a proimise he made. Booth doesn't break promises. "There's somewhere I need to go."
"You can't leave, Booth. In the past twenty four hours, you have been-"
"I need to do something for someone." He says in reply, already thinking in his mind of how she would tell him it was completely ridiculous. He thinks of what he learned while he was trapped in the hold of the ship, of things he'd been faced with. "Could you please just go to my apartment and get me a change of clothes?"
"You want to go today?" Brennan asks, not bothering to hide the surprise in her voice. But she knows the second he asks that she'll agree. Nodding, Brennan leans down and kisses his cheek like it's something she's been doing for years. She catches the look of something in his eye...it's not surprise, she thinks...but it's gone before she can identify whatever it was. "Anything else you'll need?"
Booth coughs and shakes his head, but thinks of something before she gets up to leave. "Could you make sure to bring one of my other buckles?...I know it's not that big of a deal, but the Cocky one kind of got blown up."
Part of her wants to ask how, wants to know the story, but decides against asking. She swears she sees something kin to disappointment in his eyes at the loss of his prized belt buckle; only Booth could be capable of feeling depressed over such a thing. "I'll bring something back." She starts to pull away but feels him tugging at her hand. "Booth?"
He gives her a look, one that conveys more than he could possibly ever begin to say, and he pulls a little tighter on her hand. "Come here," He says before making his best attempt at pulling her in for a hug. Though not failing, his efforts manage to cause pain that he'd rather ignore because just a second later, Brennan realizes what he wants to do and quickly helps the process.
"I'll be back," Brennan says again, noting the way a smile manages to stay on his face this time as she leaves.
She watches the man she's come to share all of her darkest secrets with hug another woman, a woman who he just claimed was the love of another man. A man he was in the military with. The thought creeps up on her, because she realizes there's still so much about his past that she doesn't know, so much he has yet to tell her.
A young man dressed in his uniform walks by and remarks what a nice day it is. She has to agree; the sun is high in the sky, the murderer that had been evading their team for over a year is behind bars, and Booth...she watches as he hugs the woman. Yes, indeed it is a nice day.
Booth waves, and she feels compelled to wave back. After everything they've been through, they're somehow still both there in that moment. He hasn't started talking about his time trapped, and she isn't sure if he ever will. The only thing for certain is that if he wants to talk, Brennan will be more than willing to listen.
"Are you absolutely certain you don't want to go back to the hospital?" Brennan asks as they step inside Booth's apartment. She watches as he slips his coat off before slipping out of his shoes. He sits down on the couch and pats the spot beside him, indicating that she come sit.
"I don't need a hospital, Bones." Booth says, still gesturing to the cushion next to him.
"You have multiple injuries, Booth, you could-" Brennan's speech is halted when Booth shakes his head and smiles. She wonders, calculating the time since they've left the hospital, and knows there's no fathomable way it could be from the drugs. "What?"
"Come here," He says again, and watches as she slowly sits down beside him. He picks up her hand and laces his fingers with hers, his eyes never breaking contact. "I don't need a bunch of doctors taking tests, taking x-rays, asking me how I'm feeling..." He squeezes her hand and gives her that lopsided smile he's caught her blushing from more than once. "Why would I need that when I've got you?"
"You're...asking me to stay?" The words are full of more hope than Brennan was prepared to reveal, but she knows there's no denying it now. She wanted to stay and help him just as much as he wanted her to.
Booth sighs and his eyes close, his head falls against the back of the couch. "The others, the people at the hospital...they wouldn't get it. They'd want me to see another psychiatrist, and I really don't want that. I just...there's still so much more to do."
"What are you talking about?" Brennan asks, frowning. "Taffet will be prosecuted, you might be forced to testify, but-"
"No, I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about Jared. What he did for me, Bones...what he did to help you..." Booth shakes his head and finally opens his eyes. "The guy risked his entire career to save me."
"How many times have you done the same for him?" Brennan cries, a sudden wave of frustration hitting her. "He only did it after finally coming to his senses...he only wanted to make a few calls-"
"But he came through, Bones. This isn't just a case or something. We're talking about his entire life that will be changed if I can't do anything to help him." Booth replies, his thumb drawing circles on the back of her hand.
Brennan shakes her head and watches as he starts to frown. "No. What we have to do to help him."
Booth's face softens as he understands what she meant, and he nods in reply. "You're something else, you know that?"
"Not entirely-" Brennan looks down at her lap, knowing her next words will probably confuse him. "After what Hodgins did, I won't be able to trust him. He hid evidence, Booth. Evidence that could have gotten you rescued much faster. If...if he wouldn't have confessed, who knows what would have happened."
"I'm here, aren't I?" Booth asked. He wasn't going to tell her, at least not yet, of the conversation he had with Hodgins when she left to bring him a change of clothes. "Look, for what it's worth, the guy feels guilty about it. He knows what he did was wrong and he's trying to make up for it. You just gotta let him."
Brennan considers what he says, but remains quiet. She's having difficulty wrapping her mind over everything that happened over the past two days. The kidnapping and everything that followed. She's barely slept since then and she's pretty sure he hasn't either.
Booth nudges her arm, effectively pulling her from her thoughts. "And it takes someone pretty great to find the exact same belt buckle I had before. Really, how'd you do that?"
"I made a few calls, did a search. It was a little difficult, but I was able to find one." Brennan smiles at the way his eyes light up. But she knows it was like that for her too, the being happy just from being alive. While it's certainly a lasting feeling, there's also the fear and adjusting to life afterward. "Would you like something to eat?"
"Not right now, besides...I 'made a few calls'." Booth says, reaching forward to a bag that had been sitting on the table. He hands it to her and sends her a look. "I'm sorry we didn't make it to the ceremony."
Brennan frowns while holding the canvas bag, and hesitates before pulling out the contents. A plaque, black with gold lettering. Her name. "Booth, how could you..." Her fingers graze over the letters before looking up at him. "How did you manage this? I suppose it would have been given soon enough, but this Booth..."
Booth shrugs, his face growing serious. "You deserve that, Bones. Everything you do for all of our victims. Everything you've given of yourself to them, to the squints, to me-" Booth places a hand against her knee. He thinks again of the words that hit him while he'd been trapped, of the reality that he'd nearly died and he never would have had the chance to tell her the one thing he truly wanted to.
Booth remains quiet for so long she begins to wonder if maybe she was wrong in agreeing he stay home. "Booth?" Brennan calls before setting her plaque on his coffee table.
"I almost died, Bones. I almost died, and-" Booth stops himself and hangs his head, overwhelmed by the reality of what could have very well happened.
Suddenly, the mood in the room has shifted, but Brennan knew it was coming. Wordlessly, she simply sits next to him, holding his hand. They're quiet like that for nearly twenty minutes, content in simply being in the other's presence.
"How about dinner, Bones?" Booth asks, his voice cracking just a little.
There's more to the story, more to be told, but it's for another day. Or later on that night, Brennan thinks, because there's no way she can bring herself to leave now. "I'll go see what you have."
"Bones?"
"Yeah?"
The words are there, ready to leave his mouth, but Booth stops just short of saying them. It doesn't seem fair to her somehow, to tell her under the circumstance they find themselves in. She's already done so much for him. "Thanks for staying."