Darcy sent messages back and forth with Wendall, but as the clock ticked and the sky became lighter, she refrained from sending him messages so that he could get a little sleep. Darcy sat in the chair next to her father's bedside and watched the monitors, his chest moving rhythmically up and down as he breathed.
It was then that a nurse came in to check his vitals. As she adjusted machines, she paused and looked at Darcy. "How are you doing, hon?" she inquired.
Darcy looked up at the kind nurse and sighed. "I'm scared, just…really scared."
The nurse, named Helen, nodded in understanding. "You know, they say that if you talk to someone in a coma, they can hear you. Maybe you should talk to him, let him know that you're here," she advised.
"Yeah, I will," Darcy gave a slight smile. "Thank you."
Helen pat Darcy on the shoulder as she left the room. She stared at her father before taking a deep breath.
"Helen said I should talk to you. So, here I am, talking to you," Darcy started. "I'm sorry but I am really, really scared right now. I finally found a family, someone who truly wanted me, and if you die, I will lose my family again. I don't want to lose you. And I know that's selfish, and horrible. But what about Parker? And Bones? We all need you."
Darcy sighed and collected her thoughts. "I am so grateful to you for everything that you have done for me. I'm serious, it means so much. I know that you've been looking for my brother. I've avoided asking you about it because I didn't want it to seem like I was pressuring you, but I really am truly grateful, Dad. You…saved me."
At a loss for words, Darcy couldn't think of anything else to say. She sat back in her chair, before adding one more thing. "I know I just told you that I don't want to lose you, but if it's your time…it's okay. I'll be okay, we all will, someday." With that, she sat back in the chair, opening the book that Wendell had brought her. "Maybe I should read this to you," she joked. "But I don't want you to mix it up with what Dr. Brennan is writing."
Dr. Brennan awoke to find Darcy having dozed off in the chair. Her head lolled on to her chest, and it frankly looked uncomfortable. Dr. Brennan stood and lightly touched Darcy's shoulder, the girl inhaling sharply as she woke up.
"Go get some sleep," Dr. Brennan nodded towards the couch. Darcy nodded, her eyes fluttering as she struggled to stay awake. She stood and made her way to the small couch that they'd been taking turns sleeping on. Her exhaustion took over as she collapsed into the blankets and promptly dozed back off.
Dr. Brennan reopened her laptop and opened the document that she had been writing since she'd exited that operating room without the good news that she was hoping to share.
"Where were we?" she asked, reviewing what she had last written.
Seeley Booth sat, one hand handcuffed and the other poking at the bruises starting to form, next to Grayson, the gangbanger that he had just gotten into a fistfight with in the alley behind his club. They sat in a police interrogation room, waiting for the younger Booth and Detective Saroyan to come and interrogate them.
The youngest Booth sat with Wendell and Temperance in a conference room, detained, albeit unofficially.
Darcy kicked off her heels, curling her legs underneath of herself. It was cold, and she was dressed for her job in a dance club, where it's usually loud, hot and sweaty. She wanted to just leave, she had things to do and money to make, and she was annoyed that she was detained over something that she wasn't even involved in.
Wendell, taking notice of the goosebumps on her arms, moved his chair closer to hers, bringing his girlfriend into his arms in an attempt to warm her up.
Temperance noticed this – she'd had suspicions for a while, but here they were, her stepdaughter and her bouncer, cuddling, right in front of her. She racked her brain on what to say; does she just ask them? Should she tell her husband?
"Darcy, I'm sure the detectives already asked you but…where did you go after work last night?"
Darcy turned and looked at the woman who had practically raised her. There was no use in lying, she could probably tell…
"Uh, I went to Wendall's place," she said.
"Why?"
"It was 4 AM and I was exhausted, and Wendell lives closer, so he let me crash at his place," Darcy explained. It wasn't a lie…but it wasn't the entire truth, either.
Temperance nodded. She still had her suspicions, but she also had faith that Darcy would tell her and Booth when she was ready.
Meanwhile, in the interrogation room down the hall, Grayson went to bat for his aspiring brother. "Look, man," he started. "My brother don't sag, slag, or bang."
"What about you?" Booth retorted.
Grayson gave a dry laugh. "Man, Clark barely talks to me, ya dig?"
"Why do you care?"
"He's my brother," he explained. "And your club is on my block. Do the math, man."
Booth began to explain his logic. "Look, I've been here before, OK? The place becomes a gang hangout, East Coast meets West Coast, somebody gets popped…"
"Says the dude with a dead body in his bathroom," Grayson pointed out.
"Yeah, for all I know, you did it!" Booth accused.
"I pop somebody, I don't muffle the shot, brother," Grayson smiled. "I shoot him right up in the face. Ask anybody." Grayson then thought of a compromise. "Look, man, what if I decree your place off-limits to my crew or any other crew?" he offered.
"You can decree?"
"He's my brother, man. I want to see him get his cheese, see his face on buses," he admitted.
Booth gave a chuckle. "Fine," he agreed. "C-Sync in the house."
The men went to shake on it, but their hands were still handcuffed to the seat. Instead, they decided to bump fists.
Back in the conference room, the trio huffed with impatience as they continued to just…sit and wait. However, they perked up when Jared Booth entered the room, closing the door and looking at the group sat before him.
"Temperance, Darcy, you're both free to go. We'll be releasing Booth shortly," he explained.
"What about Wendell?" Darcy asked.
"He and I need to talk about the gun he had in his hand when we found you all," Jared answered, still staring Wendell down.
Darcy desperately wanted to stay, but her uncle's body language made her increasingly uncomfortable. She slipped her heels back on and untangled herself from her boyfriend's embrace, the cold air suddenly worse now that she had been warmed up. She stepped outside, giving him one last look through the window before joining her stepmother in the lobby.
As they waited for her dad to be processed and released, she looked at Temperance, trying to figure out what she was thinking. Only one sentence came out of her mouth: "Please don't tell Dad," she pleaded.
"Tell your dad about what?" Temperance asked.
Darcy wasn't sure if Temperance was being discreet, or if she genuinely didn't know what Darcy was talking about. She decided to go the route of confession. "Wendell and I…we're um…dating…and dad doesn't know yet…'cause we haven't told anybody."
Temperance nodded as she listened. "Are you sure he hasn't figured it out yet?"
Darcy shrugged, smiling as she watched her dad approach. Now they only had one person left to wait on. Temperance checked her watch, fretting over getting the club ready for tonight's live entertainment.
"You guys can go, I'll wait for Wendell," Darcy offered.
"Are you sure, hon?" her dad inquired.
Darcy nodded. "My job doesn't start until we open for the night, you guys have important things to do," she explained. "Go!" she smiled. Her parents thanked her as they turned around to leave, and Darcy found a bench to wait for her boyfriend on. She just wished she had stolen his jacket before she had left the conference room.
An hour after leaving the police station, the owners discussed what their plan was now that they had lost an assistant, doorman, DJ, and a waitress that was probably going to be late. Just as Angela offered to watch the door, the bouncer and waitress approached, his coat around Darcy's shoulders.
It was then that another couple came from the other direction, Daisy wiping her mouth and Sweets' face bearing faded lipstick marks.
"Hey," the bartender greeted. "Daisy told me something, and I figured that you needed to know."
He then urged Daisy to spill, and she looked at her employers as she confessed her secret: "That murdered guy? I sort of…had a conversation with him."
"And you didn't tell the police?" Temperance questioned.
"Well, it's what they discussed that's important," Sweets defended.
"It's Daisy, so they discussed sex," Darcy murmured to Wendell.
She wasn't quiet enough apparently, as Daisy responded to her, "That's mostly true."
"OK, please, what's the point?" Temperance asked, frustrated with this conversation, and her employees.
"Well, Lance's songs were so romantic, which made me amorous…" Daisy gushed.
Sweets quickly interrupted her narrative. "Oh, maybe skip ahead a little bit," he flushed.
"Oh, well, Lance was afraid we'd get caught because I am not abashed about noise…"
Brennan, even more annoyed at the surge of unwanted information, asked, "Is it skip, ahead or point that she doesn't understand?"
"Well, I told Lance that I knew where a couple in love could find some privacy," she finally admitted. Brennan continued to stare at the waitress, still waiting for her to get to the point. "Oh! Which is what I also told Worstenbach," she finished.
Behind the Booth's backs, Darcy and Wendell snuck a look at each other. Not only had Darcy told the other waitress about that spot, which she later regretted, but now she had told the hitman?
Darcy cringed as her father asked to see where the spot was. She squeezed Wendell's hand – they'd never be able to use that spot again. They all followed her to the room they used for the lost and found.
"When Wendell does his sweep, he never checks the lost and found," Daisy pointed out.
Seeley looked around, searching for any clues. However, it was his wife who bent down. "Worstenbach could've hid back here." He said as she picked up a match. "And waited for the club to be empty."
"Remember all those wooden matches around the body?" Brennan asked.
"Oh my God, he was here," Darcy realized, suddenly feeling nauseous.
Brennan turned to her waitress. "Why didn't you tell the police you saw Worstenbach?"
Daisy filled her boss in on the employee gossip. "Fisher says that Mr. B probably killed the guy to save you or Darcy, and that we should do everything we could to impede the investigation," she explained. "Was that wrong? It felt right," she defended.
As they all filed out, Darcy and Wendell stayed behind for a moment.
"We are never using this room again," Darcy started.
"Never," Wendell agreed.
"God, I can't believe he hid in here," Darcy sighed, once again feeling nauseous. "What if we had come here and not coat check? What could've happened?" she began to panic slightly.
"Darcy," Wendell whispered, grabbing her chin with his hand and bringing her face closer to his. "Nothing happened. We're fine. Ok?" Darcy nodded. "You were somehow able to keep it in your pants until we got home," Wendell joked.
Darcy smacked his chest with her hand, smiling slightly as she turned away from him. "We should get back," she said.
"Just so you know," Wendell started, and Darcy turned back to face him. "If that man had been after you, I would've protected you."
"He might have been," Darcy sighed. "But thank you for the sentiment."
As the two emerged, her parents were leaving to run home and change before the club opened for the night. Their employers gone for an hour, Darcy and her boyfriend decided it would be a good idea to get food before work that wasn't made by Fisher and made for the door as well.
In their apartment, Booth changed clothes as his wife approached him.
"Zach and Sweets found my Belgian corduroy coat," she started. "And burned it because it had a bullet hole in it," she informed him.
"Oh, wow, are you serious?"
"Yeah, they figured that you bashed his head against the wall, and I shot him," she continued.
"Should I be upset that everyone thinks that we're murderers, or just happy that everyone's trying to help us get away with it?" Booth questioned.
"You should recognize that everything they do to try to help just makes us look more guilty!" Brennan exclaimed. "Especially you," she pointed out.
"Why me?"
"Because you're strong enough to bash his head in the wall and I'm not," she explained.
"Oh, so, are we having some doubts?"
"Not about anything important," she responded. She fixed his tie before allowing him to kiss her.
Another thought that had been sitting at the back of his mind came to the front. "Hey, uh, have you noticed anything weird about Darcy recently?"
Remembering what Darcy had told her earlier, Temperance wasn't sure what to say. "What do you mean?"
"Well," Booth sighed. "She's been spending a lot of time with Wendell recently, and she says they've been friends for a while. But she also didn't come home last night, and she's been doing that a lot lately."
Bren wanted to tell him, but also wanted to respect Darcy's privacy. "Maybe you should talk to her about it," she suggested. "What are you thinking?"
Booth fixed his jacket as he looked at his wife. "I have a feeling…that Wendell might not just be her friend."
Darcy bustled around, checking things and helping bartenders as she brought the city councilman Max Keenan a drink. Just as she was setting it down, her father approached, sights set on the older man.
"So, the cops think I committed the murder!" he hissed.
"The cops are the least of your worries," Max responded. "Make the payment."
Darcy was shocked, drink and tray still in her hand as she stood there, processing.
"Right, you tell the Gravedigger that unless he's willing to kill me, it's over," Booth finished. "Oh, one more thing – anything happens to my family, it's you I'm coming after," he threatened.
If Darcy's jaw could drop any more, it would. She had never seen this side to her father before!
"Woah, woah, woah, me?" Max questioned. "I'm just the messenger!"
"I don't know how you got Jared to believe that crap, but my gut is telling me that you're nobody's messenger," He finished as he stormed off.
Darcy closed her mouth, realizing that she had been gaping like a fish, and slammed the drink down. "You heard him," she said, as she stalked off as well.
Determined to fill in her boyfriend on what she'd just witnessed, she searched around for him, tray still in her hand. She found him near the bar, having a conversation with Sweets.
Part of her wanted to tell him just how crazy things had gotten, and part of her just wanted him to hug her and assure her that her dad had not killed somebody and that she had not narrowly escaped death.
She decided she wanted all of the above, and went in for a hug first, wrapping her arms around his torso without saying anything.
"Woah," he murmured as she threw her arms around him. "Everything okay? What's going on?"
"This whole murder thing is getting crazy," she whispered. "Please tell me my dad didn't kill someone," she asked.
"Shh, Darcy, your dad didn't kill anyone," he obliged.
She didn't realize that her parents were high above on the catwalk, observing everything as they conversed. Her dad watched this interaction as he discussed the night's live entertainment, his suspicions only rising.
Brennan and Booth retreated to her office, and although Darcy wanted to follow, she was distracted by Detective Saroyan's entrance. Her interest piqued as she watched Max Keenan whisper to her as he left, her face falling. She motioned to Wendell, getting his attention and pointing out their newest guest.
Spotting her partner's niece, Cam approached the young woman.
"Cam?" Darcy asked. "What's wrong?"
Wendell stuck his head into Bren's office, only having to say one word.
"Boss?"
They knew that something was going down.
Darcy circled the corner into the alley, finding her uncle being held at gunpoint by his partner. The door behind him opened, her parents and boyfriend filing out. They were then joined by the club's lawyer, and Max Keenan, who still hadn't left.
"I'm not going to prison," Jared said.
"GPS puts you in this building at the time of the murder," Cam points out.
"Hey, I told you, no cell phone, no GPS," Max piped up. "Should listen to me," he grumbled.
"Lose the weapon, Detective," Cam ordered her partner.
He shook his head.
"Jared, just take out your gun," Seeley reasoned.
"Oh, that's exactly what I'm going to do," he responded. "You ready? I'm a quick bastard," he warned, as he began to reach for his pistol.
"By the barrel, nice and slowly," she directed.
He continued to reach down. "That's not how it's going to go." His hand reached the holster. "We both know how this is going to go."
Darcy gasped as Cam cocked her gun, still aiming it at her own partner. Darcy moved, impulsively putting herself between her uncle and the other detective.
"Darcy!" her dad yelled, willing her to move.
"It's OK," she assured him. "It's all OK." She then looked at her uncle. "Thank you." She reached for the gun. "You helped us, now let us help you," she pleaded.
Jared gave her the gun, which she passed to Cam. Inside, they heard Motley Crue take the stage, cheers hinting Darcy at the amount of people in the club tonight.
Cam passed him handcuffs and directed her partner to handcuff himself. He does as she directed, refusing to meet anyone's eyes, as he was led away, leaving Darcy and her loved ones in the alley.
It was hours later, and the club had emptied out, The time before predawn was Darcy's favorite – the city was at its quietest and she was about to get a late-night snack and some rest, her favorite things.
Her parents sat in Bren's office, talking, and she decided to give them (and herself) some privacy.
"Locking up now, Boss!" Wendell exclaimed, waving to his employers.
"Bye guys! See you at home!" Darcy exclaimed, although she knew she wouldn't show up there until later that day.
Booth watched their retreating figures, Wendell leading Darcy out with his hand on the small of her back.
"They really aren't subtle, are they?" Booth asked his wife. She shook her head, relieved that he finally knew. He then continued, "I think you're right, you know. I think we should sell out."
"You're not afraid of this Gravedigger person?"
"Nah, I told him if he didn't leave us alone, I'd kill him," Booth smiled. "And he believes me."
He moved to sit down in a chair.
"You mean you told Max to tell him," Temperance corrected.
"Yeah."
"Caroline says if they can't trace the gun to Jared, they can't find my coat, he's going to walk," Bren explained. "We can't sell the club; your brother might need a job." She then prepared herself for her next statement. "Plus, I have another confession…"
"What?"
She moved to sit down on her husband's lap. "Well, you know that glass of wine that we share every night?" she started
"Yeah…"
"I have to stop that."
Booth groaned. "Oh, c'mon, Bren! Just because you have one glass of wine every night with your husband, doesn't mean you're an alcoholic."
Brennan hesitated before she responded. "That's not why."
Realization finally overtook his features and he inhaled as he grinned. "No way!" All Bren could do was laugh. "Yeah!" he exclaimed as he kissed his wife. "You are pregnant!" he said aloud. "There's a little baby boy, huh?"
"Or girl…" Bren pointed out.
"Where are we going to put him?"
"Well, I have a feeling that Darcy may not be living with us too much longer…"
"Aw, man, Darcy is going to be so excited," Booth gushed.
The thought of losing so much control over personal happiness is unbearable.
You love someone, you open yourself up to suffering, that's the sad truth.
Maybe they'll break your heart; maybe you'll break their heart and never be able to look at yourself in the same way.
Those are the risks.
That's the burden.
Like wings, they have weight, we feel that weight on our backs, but they are a burden that lifts us.
Burdens that allow us to fly…
Four days, and her book had finally been finished.
She had written a book in four days.
She looked over what she had written, then back at Booth in that bed, and Darcy dozing on the couch.
And then deleted the entire thing.
"Such a weird dream…"
Mumbles came from lips that she did not expect to move, and Brennan's head snapped back up to look at the man in the bed.
"Booth?" she questioned, then repeated. "Booth!" She darted over to Darcy and shook the girl awake before rushing back to the bed. "You're awake!"
"So real," he mumbled again, his eyes open and looking around the room.
Brennan and Darcy stood by the bed, tears filling their eyes.
"Your operation was a success, but you reacted poorly to the anesthesia," Dr. Brennan explained to him. "You've been in a coma for the past four days."
Darcy added, "Dad, what took you so long to wake up?"
"It felt so real," he said.
"It wasn't real," Dr. Brennan reassured.
He looked up at his longtime crime-fighting partner, the love of his life.
"Who are you?" he asked.
