The apartment Angela walked into was such a mess, it almost looked unfamiliar. It had been two weeks since Angela Montenegro had woken up to find a voicemail of her best friend weeping. And two weeks since that same best friend had cleared out her office.
Angela spotted her on the couch; tv on and a bag of chips in hand, "How you feeling, Sweetie?"
"There's this show on tv that investigates myths and folklore to discredit claims of their actual existence… its very good," Brennan sat up a little. She hadn't changed her clothes in almost three days and hadn't showered in four. She wondered if she looked as bad as she felt.
"I didn't ask you what you were watching on tv, Bren. I asked you how you were feeling…" Angela had let Brennan slide with deflecting her responses for long enough.
"I'm fine," Brennan turned back to the television.
"Sweetie, have you seen yourself? Have you seen your apartment? There's food covering your coffee table—your suitcases still haven't been moved from the front door…"
"I'm fine, Ange," Brennan persisted. Angela was welcome to stay as long as she didn't push.
"Come back to the lab, Bren. We miss you. Cam has held off on giving your position away—being here isn't doing you any good…" As much as Angela hated to see Brennan consume herself in her work—it was a much healthier option than her current one. "Booth isn't there. He's still on probation while they review his case. I heard he went camping with Parker. There's no chance you could run into him, Sweetie…"
"I don't want to work, Angela. That's why I quit," Brennan did her best to ignore the Booth comment. Even if she had wanted to work… the lab had too many memories and her apartment was already enough of a reminder.
"Well then why don't you get dress and I'll take you to lunch? How's that? Because after I pop—we won't be able to eat with out a crying baby," Angela was determined to get her motivated. In all the years she'd known Brennan, she'd never seen her look so depressed.
Brennan reached over and felt Angela's stomach, "How's the baby?"
"Good… it might be blind…"
"Oh, Ange… I'm so sorry," Brennan felt horrible.
"It's okay. It's only a 25% chance and Hodgins and I are ready for whatever happens," Angela smiled at her. They both needed to be strong right now. "I'm very excited for the baby to meet its Auntie Brennan… the one that's not lying on the couch and eating chips all day…"
"I'm sorry, Ange," Brennan suddenly got quite. Maybe it was time to talk about it all. "I didn't know it was going to be like this. All I've ever had was my work… and then Booth… and now I don't have either. I don't have anything now. I don't know what I'm supposed to do… or if I want to do anything," tears began to form and slide slowly down her cheeks. "I really miss him. But I know that I shouldn't…"
"Sweetie… have you tried talking to him? I can't imagine he's not feeling the same way right now…"
Brennan shook her head, "No… he doesn't want me. He hates me."
"Brennan, Booth doesn't hate you. He could never hate you. You need to talk to him. Explain to him what happened—you can get through this," Angela held her hand.
Brennan lay back down on the couch. Today would not be the day she'd get up.
….
"Good news, Cherie," while driving back from his camping trip with Parker, Booth got a call from Caroline. "You still have your job. I would like a big box of chocolates on my desk tomorrow morning."
"How did you manage that?" Booth thought for sure his employment at the FBI was over.
"When the ambulance came to check out Hacker—they did a breathalyzer on him. Alcohol content was well over the legal limit. And testimony from those at the bar said he looked like he was harassing the pretty doctor. Apparently the night before he came in flashing his badge trying to get information from the bartender about your Dr. Brennan—a complete misuse of his authority. As far as the FBI is concerned, you were just protecting your partner. He's gone, Cherie. But you're in the clear."
"Thank you, Caroline," Booth wasn't sure how good of a thing this was though. He couldn't go back to working with Brennan, "So what do I do now?"
"What you always did before, Cherie."
"Caroline… I really appreciate everything you've done for me. I do… but I can't go back to working at the Jeffersonian."
"You're still broken up with, Dr. Brennan I see," Caroline was sad to here that it hadn't been worked out between the two. "Well, last I heard, Dr. Brennan handed in her letter of resignation…"
This was news to Booth. "Bones quit?"
"Yes, sir, she did. You better fix that, Cherie."
"Listen, Caroline. If Bones doesn't want to work at the Jeffersonian anymore—that's up to her. I'm not apart of that," Booth was annoyed with the blame he was getting. He never asked her to quit her job. He would have gladly transferred and got her a new agent.
Caroline sighed, "You're both damn fools."
Booth hung up his phone and turned to see his son had been watching the entire conversation.
"Where did Bones go, Dad?" Parker looked up; asking innocently.
"I don't know, Parker. I don't know" Booth tried to return his focus to the road in front of them. He was still wrestling with his anger and guilt. Booth couldn't help but want her still; and he hated himself for it. For all he knew she had probably run of to some country he couldn't pronounce—maybe she was even thrilled that it was over. If she had been having doubts about them; now she had what she wanted.
Part of Booth hoped this was the case. It made him feel better to think he was the only one hurting from this break up—but the images of her crying outside his door remained burned in his memory. Why did he turn his back on her?
Booth shook his head and turned up the radio. He tried to tell himself this wasn't his fault.
