Hi everyone- I'm just not sure what is going on w/ my story – but both ch 33 & 34 are not showing up. I'm trying again. But… not sure. They are on the back end and are there very sporadically. Feel free to read them w/ the ff . net app as they do appear there.
Sorry again – waiting to hear from support on what the issue is and how to fix it. anyway, thank you for reading!
CHAPTER 34
Booth was lying flat on his back, surrounded by darkness. He knew that the blast had knocked over the cellutube. Benji had said it was likely to happen, but needed to be standing for them to access it with the time they had. Once that door had slammed though, they'd been thrown down, roughly.
He could feel Bones; his arms were still protectively wrapped around her. He could barely move one of his arms though. It was completely numb, tingling…
They'd fallen hard. Been jerked roughly.
"Bones," he grumbled.
Nothing. He felt lightheaded as worry threatened to rob him of breath. "Bones. Talk to me. You okay?"
Still nothing. He couldn't move much. And she wasn't moving at all. Or making a noise. He strained to control his breathing, so he could check hers.
Please God… let her be breathing.
They had made it and she was here. The booth was sealed. They made it to safety. They hadn't blown up. So… what was wrong? Why wasn't she talking?
He moved his right arm, the one that didn't hurt, up and down her body, looking for something. Some sign of what was wrong. When he got to her head, his breath hitched. Her protective helmet was gone.
During the blast, his own head had been reamed against the heavy, hard side of the cellutube so hard that he was sure if it hadn't been for the helmet, he would've been knocked out immediately. When had she lost her helmet? If she hit her head as hard as he had – without that to protect her…
"Bones! Talk to me."
His hand moved to her neck, finally, and he was able to place two fingers against her frantically. He felt nothing. He moved his fingers again, trying in the dark to find the right spot.
Finally, he felt a pulse against his fingers and he breathed out in relief.
"Benji – can you hear me? We need to get out. Please…." He took two deep breaths and wrapped his arms tighter around her. To reassure who, he wasn't sure. "Please come quick."
He lowered his face so it was resting on the top of her head. He placed a kiss on her head and whispered words meant to soothe her. "You're going to be okay. It's going to be okay. Everything will be fine. I'm here. I've got you," he said, over and over.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she moaned in pain and began moving around.
"Oh, thank God. Bones – can you hear me?"
She let out a small sound and her breath caught. She was in pain. Something was wrong. He'd already talked for Benji. He kept making the same pleas for them to come quick. To get them. To get her. He needed to see her and see what was wrong.
"Booth…" she finally managed, her voice laced with pain.
"I'm right here, Bones. We made it. We did it. You're going to be okay."
"Are you… okay?" she asked and he almost laughed in relief.
"You're seriously asking me this? You've been unconscious for… awhile… and you're asking me if I'm okay?"
"Are you?" she asked again. He felt her arms moving to hold onto him and her breathing speed up.
"I'm okay. My arm hurts is all."
"I'm sorry. I probably…" she took a deep breath. "I probably fell into you when I landed in here… and the arm you were aiming into the booth with probably got the brunt of the impact."
"It sounds like you got the brunt of it, actually," he said. Something inside ached at the idea of her being hurt. After everything she'd been through, why did this have to happen as well? And why couldn't she have been completely safe?
He could feel her beginning to tremble. Whether from anxiety or pain, he didn't know. But he held her tighter.
"What hurts?" he asked.
"Everything," she answered quickly, quietly. For her to say that… she must be in a lot pain, he realized with a shiver. "Mostly my head. I just… need to rest. I feel kind of tired."
He moved his arm frantically up and down her arm and along her torso, to get the blood flowing, to jolt her awake. She could not go to sleep.
"Bones… did I ever tell you about Parker's teacher? He…" Booth winced as he felt shooting pain rip through his arm. He loosened the grip around her with that one arm and tried to relax it.
"Booth, don't. It's okay. I'm okay."
"I'm fine," he said. "Anyway, I've been meaning to tell you this story. For awhile. It's kind of funny. Do you want to hear it?"
He didn't know how long they'd be in here, but he needed to keep her awake. He knew, she likely had a concussion and he needed her to stay with him right now, until they got out. His own arm was throbbing, but it was okay. He would be okay. She needed to be okay first.
He felt her nod her head against his chest and warmth spread through him. Despite this horrible situation – feeling her laying against him, leaning into him for safety and protection, leaning into her for the same, for reassurance – nothing had ever felt more right in his life.
"The teacher – this old guy – called Rebecca to demand that we have a face-to-face meeting. This must've been two months ago." He stopped for a moment, feeling the weight of his failure once again. He hadn't told her this story because he barely talked to her about anything personal back then. And until a week ago. He'd been…
It didn't matter anymore. He'd apologized. He would tell her this now.
She nodded and took a deep breath against him. She was relaxing, and he was once again desperate to keep her awake. He had no idea how hard she'd hit her head. And much as he loved the feel of – and always dreamed of – her falling asleep with her head on his chest, curled up against him, falling asleep with a severe concussion was dangerous. And it was not happening on his watch.
"Rebecca called me because she said that any time any science teachers ever wanted to talk about Parker, it was basically my job to attend, too, because Parker had only become a 'science problem' since beginning to spend so much time with my partner." He laughed and felt Bones wince. "Rebecca is only joking, obviously. She loves how much Parker now loves science. He never used to. She's grateful. And she's always liked you."
Bones breathed out.
"But all the same – Parker has started to challenge his teachers when he finds their data inconsistent." Booth laughed, because he honestly found it hysterical that his son had taken to Bones to the point of challenging experts in his life on subjects they were teaching. And he had so much faith in his partner and his son, he always walked into these meetings assuming that the teacher was wrong and needed to grow a thicker skin and appreciate the curiosity of a child.
But school did not work quite like that. So he learned to nod and say things like 'you make a great point. I'll be sure to mention this to Parker.'
"He had done an experiment with some kind of soda product… and vinegar I think. It was a volcano that needed to erupt. What was the soda?" he trailed off.
"Baking soda," she answered in a whisper. Good. She's hanging in there with me.
"That's it. I knew you'd know. Anyway, this guy – Mr. Poole, I believe – said it was the most effective way for a child to make a safe volcanic eruption and Parker openly said that it was certainly not."
"Parker's right."
"And Mr. Poole told Parker there was not another safe way to create a volcanic eruption that would be allowed at their school. So the next day, Parker shows up with some cola and mentos and asked the teacher if these things were safe and allowed at school. And he ended up running class experiment that resulted in a much larger eruption. Actually, I think the guy used the word 'explosion' – and students who were way more engaged in the lesson. And he was embarrassed to be one-upped by a kid. Me? I was proud."
Bones laughed softly. "We did that experiment together. But… a long time ago. I can't believe he remembered."
"Of course he remembered, Bones. He looks up to you. You talk to him like he's an equal – not a child. Kids notice that kind of thing. He's asked to come see you for so many weeks now. And I always would tell him we'll go… we'll go. But… we never did. And I'm sorry for that."
Bones nodded. "Things were busy. It's okay."
Booth shook his head, still running a hand along her back soothingly. "He has a lot of science projects he wants to do with you. He keeps this notebook and has a running list. Rebecca loves it. You'd think his teachers would love it, too. A student that interested in what they are teaching."
"Teachers don't always love students who know more. I was always an eager student, but… most of my college professors seemed to dislike me anyway."
Booth breathed out. So many people had sized her up, categorized her. "Cold." "Unfeeling." "Know-it-all." Hell, he'd definitely done it himself – especially when they first met. But so quickly he'd learned that the blunt honesty that he used to chide her for – and hold against her as signs that she was not 'good with people' – were the very traits that led him to trust her explicitly. He never had to wonder if he was getting the truth from her, or her real opinions. He never had to wonder what her angle was. Or her game. He never had to figure out how to read between the lines of what she said versus what she really meant.
Most people were always projecting some kind of image. Himself included.
She was just Bones.
What you see is what you get. It's a rare quality.
It was always a quality that he loved – once he realized it.
Hannah had just recently called her 'cold' – and even vindictive. Many people in his life were vindictive. They had their own end-games. Hannah had nearly proposed marriage to him to keep him with her in a moment of desperation. Even though she hadn't been the marrying kind at one point. Even though she had admitted that she expected him to end his partnership with Bones. Even though she barely knew him – and he barely knew her. In the ways that mattered.
But she'd called Bones a vindictive person, looking for attention.
He lowered his face and rested his head in her hair, relishing in her closeness. For all the ways he'd lost her – and almost lost her – in the past few weeks, he had her now. Thank God.
Bones didn't look for attention. She earned it for her expertise. But other than that, she had her small group of close friends, a family that was estranged until a couple of years ago, and a past that had turned her into someone who put up the kind of walls that pushed attention away. In some ways, it was like she was trying to walk through life, offering what she could as a professional, but becoming invisible as a person. Not taking chances for not feeling worthy.
Hannah had been wrong about a lot of things. But her most recent evaluation of Bones had been like a sucker punch to him. Because she didn't know his partner. Not in any real, meaningful way.
Her head started falling slowly off his shoulder.
"Bones? Stay awake. Hang in there. They'll get us out soon. Just… hang tight."
"Don't worry about me," she managed.
"Oh. Sure. No problem. I'll just pretend we did not just live through an actual explosion that probably left you with a severe concussion."
"I don't have a concussion. I have a headache. And I'm just really tired. That's normal. I've been awake all day."
"And you usually stay up way later than this. So… I don't buy it. I actually should be tired. I've been up since 3am."
He felt her head look toward his. "Why? That's very early."
"I had…" he remembered waking up today to flashbacks of her being buried alive. Shot. Gone. Partnership over. "I had a nightmare," he said.
She nodded. "That's good I'm not the only one who suffers from nightmares. I have them too. I think it's worse when I'm sleep deprived. Have you been having trouble sleeping?"
He nodded. "Ever since… well… when I found out that our partnership was over. I haven't slept too well since then."
"You had a lot going on. Before all of that, you had Hannah. And I'm sure—"
"I haven't been sleeping well because I miss you," he said, cutting her off at the pass. "It has nothing to do with Hannah. I miss you. I miss us. I messed everything up so much. I have been worrying about you nonstop. And trying to figure out what I did wrong and how on earth I can fix it. It's been a lot but it's been a lot because of you and because of us. That's it."
She nodded. "After that night at Founding Fathers, I have had the nightmares of you being shot again. I… I used to have them all the time. When you were gone, it was every night. Then, little by little, when you were back, the nightmares ended. But those words… they brought the pain and fear back. And I've had those nightmares again a bit in the past couple of weeks. And since going back to Camden, I've had the nightmares about drowning. And… about everything else. Those ones are usually quick. I tend to wake myself up, but… they shake me up. I haven't slept very well either since we stopped being partners. And I wish I could just sleep because… when I sleep, I don't have nightmares. I just need to sleep. And right now, I'm tired, Booth. Let me just…"
"No, Bones." He rubbed his arm along her body, while his other arm started to feel a lot worse. He was wincing in pain, but trying not to show it. He had to keep her awake. It was his only goal. "I promise, when we get out, and after a doctor looks at you, you can sleep. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here. I know losing me that day, like that – was awful. It was traumatic and—"
"I wished that you hadn't stood up. That she had just shot me."
He squeezed her at that. "No. You need to understand that I'd do that again. In a second."
"I know. You're here, after all."
"Someone was aiming a gun at you. Of course I stood up. But… I didn't die that day. I'm so sorry that you thought I did. Because you should not have gone through that."
"I blame Sweets for that," she said. "Him and his theories," she said tiredly.
He nodded. Much as he loved Sweets, he wanted to shake him for his ability to make things for them ten times worse by trying to push them together more quickly. "Well," he said. "When we get out of here, we can tell him that everything is all his fault."
She nodded. "That's a good plan. Except…"
"Except what?"
"If it weren't for Sweets, I wouldn't have met Keeley and Rob and Amy. He knew it would be tough going back, so… he told me to go somewhere new. Make new memories to face the old. And… I went to the bistro. And I met them."
"So we can blame him for very specific things. And thank him for other very specific things."
"That sounds like a good idea," she said. "Do you think Amy had the baby yet?"
He shook his head. "You talked to them. How far along was she?"
"I don't know. He didn't tell me. He was worried the doctors and nurses weren't going to take good enough care of her, and that the baby was not in the right position when all she had to do was try to turn the baby by laying on her side. I don't get the impression that Rob is great in emergencies. Or maybe it's just when things involve Amy, his brain seems to explode. He lost her earlier and she was right at his house."
Booth shrugged and attempted to reposition his body and Bones' position against him, to relieve some of the pressure on his hurting arm. "Well. The guy's in love. It doesn't always bring out the most rational side of people."
Suddenly, Booth felt the booth begin to shake and he held Bones tighter, even with the arm that was throbbing. As the door was forced open, light filtered in, and he could see the remnants of flames around them – and a building in shambles. Four firefighters appeared over them.
They immediately began to lift Bones off of him and another reached in for him. He grasped the proffered arm immediately and pulled himself out, onto shaky legs.
As Bones was placed onto a stretcher, he looked around the wreckage. Thankful they were walking out alive. And well aware that it could have gone much differently.