(Season 6)

This is a sequel to chapter 221.

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I don't own Bones.

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The worse had happened and Hank was sorry that he had been right all along. One night, while he was playing cards with his friends, his grandson had called him and that call had been devastating. Booth was drunk, angry and inconsolable. His speech slurred, his voice rough, he said that he has asked Hannah to marry him and she had turned him down then to make matters worse, she had asked him to pretend he had never asked. That right there had been like a knife twisted in his grandson's back. Hannah had wanted to pretend that Booth hadn't asked her to marry him. That fact kept rolling around in Hank's mind. He had never hated anyone in his life, but Hannah had destroyed his grandson with her flippancy and he would never forgive her.

As soon as he could arrange it, Hank had paid a taxi to take him to his grandson's apartment. Using the emergency key he kept in his wallet, he had let himself into the apartment and waited quietly for his grandson to come home from work. He needed to make sure the boy was alright and he wouldn't believe it until he saw Booth with his own eyes.

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Booth felt like he was living in an alternate reality. He had tried to find someone to love him, to be with him for the rest of his life and he had thought that Hannah could be the one. She had given up her job in Afghanistan to be with him and he had felt that had to mean something. What that something was wasn't clear because it turned out that she didn't love him enough to marry him. He was enraged that his life was one disaster after another and he wondered sometimes if it was worth continuing. When he was sober, he knew he'd never hurt himself. He could never do that, but the thought had crossed his mind several times in his life and usually when he was in a deep depression. The idea that he could consider something like that was enough to make him quit drinking for the time being. He wasn't his father and he would never let alcohol make him do anything against his nature. He was better than that. He had to be.

He had been surly most of the day while dealing with his partner and anyone else that dared to talk to him. He knew it wasn't right, but at the moment he didn't care. Everyone seemed to have the life they wanted and it left a bitter taste in his mouth that he was left on the outside looking at happiness that he couldn't have. That he may never have.

Arriving home, he found his grandfather in the apartment watching television. "Pops, what are you doing here?" Booth wasn't sure he wanted company. He was in a foul mood and he was afraid he might say something that his grandfather might not like.

After he turned the TV off, Hank leaned back against the couch and decided to be honest. "That call last night . . . I couldn't ignore it, Seeley. I came because you sounded . . . on the edge of something."

The worry in Hank's voice told Booth that he must have said some pretty bad things to his grandfather. Truth be told, he barely remembered calling the old man and he had been fighting a hangover all day, so he didn't think he was up for this conversation. "Look Pops . . . I was drunk last night. I probably said things I shouldn't have, but I'm sober today and it's all good."

"I don't think so." Hank exhaled deeply. He knew that his grandson was going to try to evade questions, but he wasn't going to let him do that. Too much was at stake. "Hannah turned you down . . . Son, don't let this wreck your life. We all suffer disappointments but we have to keep moving. We have to keep living our life."

"Disappointment, is that what you think this is . . . disappointment." Angry, Booth glared at the man who had raised him and knew he'd better calm down before he said something he'd regret later. "Disappointment is when the store is out of Oreos . . . this isn't disappointment Pops. Disappointment?" He ran his hands through his hair and knew he couldn't talk with his grandfather, not now. "Pops, stay go do whatever you want, but I'm not in the mood right now. I have a headache . . . yes, because I drank too much last night. I'm going to eat some soup, soak in my tub and I'm going to bed." With that he moved into the kitchen, opened the freezer door, realized he didn't have enough patience to heat up the soup, slammed the door shut, grabbed an apple from the counter and left the room. Passing through the living room, he ignored his guest, marched into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

The sound of slamming drawers could be heard in the bedroom and Hank knew that his grandson was in a dark, angry place and there was nothing he could do for him, at least not at the moment. Hungry, he moved into the kitchen, found the bread, a jar of peanut butter and made a sandwich. Retrieving a bottle of beer from the fridge, he sat down at the kitchen table and ate dinner. While he ate, he realized that the apartment was quiet and he felt some relief. Things hadn't gone quite like he had planned on, but he wasn't going anywhere. Not until his grandson had calmed down. Not until the boy saw that the only one he was hurting was himself.

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The next morning, Booth woke to the smell of cooked bacon. His mouth watering, he moved out of bed, threw on his robe and made his way to the kitchen. "Pops, why are you up so early?"

"I always get up early and if you think seven is early then I don't have an answer for you." Hank transferred a fried egg to a plate and turned to face his grandson. "Want some eggs? It won't be any trouble to cook you three or four."

Since he was hungry and there was no way he was going to go back to sleep for thirty minutes, Booth sat down at the kitchen table. "Sure since you're offering." He didn't like his grandfather cooking since he'd almost burned down his apartment the last time he'd tried it, but he was sitting there and his grandfather looked like he was handling things.

Silence filled the kitchen for a few moments, while Hank cooked three eggs over easy. Once that was done, he placed them on a plate with bacon and some toast. Carrying the two plates to the table, Hank sat down. "Eat up, I can make more if you're still hungry."

His stomach rumbling, Booth picked up his fork and began to eat. He had barely eaten since the day Hannah had turned him down. He had been so angry that his stomach had been tied up in knots. He didn't feel the hot rage anymore. The previous evening, something had changed and it just felt like a dull ache in the middle of his chest. He guessed it was something he could live with. Once he was done eating, he walked over to the coffee maker and poured a cup of coffee, doctored it with sugar, walked back over to the table and sat down. "Pops, when I called you, I was drunk . . . I don't really remember what I told you, but if I said something to upset you then I apologize. I would never be disrespectful to you, not on purpose. I was just . . . I was just angry and drunk. It won't happen again."

"She turned you down . . . I understand why you might have been upset. I do." Hank sighed. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say now. "Rebecca turned down your proposal, Temperance didn't want to try a relationship and Hannah turned you down too. It's a lot to take, but son . . . you have to understand that sometimes people don't want to commit to marriage. Rebecca was going to law school, Temperance is an important scientist and you told me many times that she doesn't believe in marriage and as for Hannah . . . son, I was standing in the room with you when she said you weren't in a serious relationship and you weren't going to get married . . . I took her at her word, why didn't you?"

Biting back his first answer, Booth paused before he answered. "She gave up her job in Afghanistan to be with me . . . why do that if she wasn't serious about me? She hated being a White House correspondent. She hated it, but she did it to be with me . . . I thought she loved me and I guess she did, but not deeply. It wasn't a forever kind of love, not like you had with Grams. I've never had anyone love me like that . . . never."

He thought about what his grandson had said and he thought about how to answer him. "I don't have all the answers son. Hell, I did well getting what I got in life. Born on the poor side of Philly, in the Army then a cop . . . I got to marry the woman I loved, but not everyone does, you have to know that . . . Look, you're a rising star in the FBI, you're the head of Major Crimes. That is no small accomplishment. You have friends, I've met them. Temperance is still your friend, you told me she is and a good close friendship with her is a win. Yeah, she doesn't want to make it more, but hey you can't force someone to love you. Rebecca drives you nuts most of the time, but in the end, she's on your side and you know it. She's so proud of your career and she says you're a great father. She's a fan of yours even when she's doing things to bug you. It's just who she is . . . I think I got side tracked here . . . you'll meet someone someday, Seeley. It's not too late for you. Give it time."

Not sure if he should mention it, Booth cleared his throat and stared at his coffee cup. "Bones told me she missed her chance . . . while I was dating Hannah she told me she wanted to give us a chance, but I couldn't. I couldn't dump Hannah. That would have been . . . I couldn't do it and live with myself."

Shocked, Hank stared at Booth for a few moments. "Seeley, if she wants to give it a try then here is your chance."

"No!" Booth stood up and leaned on the table. "I can't. Don't you understand? I just can't."

"Why not? What's stopping you? You don't love Hannah anymore . . . do you?"

The flash of anger gone, Booth sat down. "No I don't, but Pops . . . what if I say yes and she changes her mind? I can't deal with anymore rejection right now. I just can't . . . She's my friend and I love her as a friend, that has to be enough . . . for now."

"For now?" Hank heard those two words and he knew, deep down that his grandson was not ready to give up on Temperance. Not permanently. "Do you think things can change between you two?"

"Maybe . . . Pops, I'm just angry right now. Let me be angry." Booth sighed and leaned on the table. "Let me think about me for once and not everyone around me. I want to be selfish and think of what I want . . . Do you understand?"

Slowly nodding his head, Hank knew that his grandson wasn't in as much trouble as he had feared. He heard anger in the boy's voice but also he heard hope and that was enough for now. "I do."

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