Booth presses his face into her hair, frowning. She's keeping something from him, and he doesn't know how to ease it from her. Hell, should he even try? Booth steels himself, and lifts his head.
"Bones."
Booth's voice is soft, his hand gentle as it cradles her cheek. Brennan tilts her head, inching closer, expecting his warm kiss. But it doesn't come. Opening her eyes, she is pinned by his brown gaze. His beautiful eyes full of love, concern and determination.
"There's something you're not telling me. Am I right?"
Booth feels her tremble and it shakes him to his core with fear. She's so straight forward, a 'what you see, is what you get' woman, what could possibly be making her hold back? A few sickening possibilities flash by but he pushes those thoughts down.
"Temperance, please, tell me," he whispers, his eyes begging her to trust him. Still holding her hand tightly and cradling her face, he leans his forehead against hers. Tears blur her eyes and his stomach clenches. "I love you. I'm with you. All the way. Forever."
Temperance takes a deep breath. Her next words will change her entire world. Their life together, the future they had planned, will be irrevocably altered. Tightening her fingers on his hand, feeling his steady strength, Brennan takes them into the next phase of their life.
"I'm pregnant."
Brennan isn't sure if she's amused or afraid that Booth has jerked back. His face is blank, his entire body still. She clears her throat; maybe her voice was too cracked, and he didn't understand.
"You're going to be a father."
Well, that wasn't even close to what he expected her to say.
Her matter-of-fact delivery of his new status finally cracks through Booth's stunned brain. Feelings and sounds wash over him. He can hear Brennan's shaky breaths, can feel her soft skin shift under his palm as she starts to chew her bottom lip. Carefully, as if she were made of fragile crystal, he cups her other cheek. Her 'sickness', her sudden retreat from their kiss when he touched her stomach…all the puzzle pieces are coming together.
Booth's gentle touch vanquishes most of Temperance's worries; he's still here. She gasps, flooded with happiness and jittery excitement. Booth is happy, he's here and they're a family.
Brennan is smiling widely at him, covering his hands with her own, the brightest smile he thinks he's ever seen from her. He realizes he's smiling too, though he doesn't know when he started. He's unable to look away from her face, in total awe of the amazing woman who has once again added joy to his life.
"A baby?" he croaks, unaware that tears are now rolling down his own grinning face. "We're having a baby?"
Brennan chuckles, happier than she ever thought possible. And relieved. Relieved that she can share her excitement with the most important person in her life. Relieved that his joy matches her own. Relieved that the burden of worry is no longer hers alone. But that's one worry that can wait. She wants to correct him, to inform him that technically she's the one having a baby as only she is in possession of a uterus. She wants to teach him that currently, the term baby is incorrect, that she is currently carrying a fetus. But she doesn't, instead she kisses him and just savors the moment.
Something was wrong.
Booth could feel it hanging in the air, could hear it in the sudden silence and stillness outside their tent. He looks out, his heart sinking; all eyes are on Thin Man, shirt bloodied, sitting in the dirt staring at nothing. He glances back at Brennan, finishing writing her report for Coralilo, concerned. Booth is almost certain Coralilo's daughter has died. If the mercenary's own men are wary of their leader, where does that leave the two American outsiders?
Two and half, Booth corrects himself, glancing at Brennan's stomach.
Coralilo stomps into the tent, visibly boiling with emotions. Instinctively Brennan pushes herself up to stand as Booth moves to her side. Coralilo is shirtless, streaks of blood all over his front. He stands still as granite, staring at the couple for a dozen long breaths, the only sound the soft drip, drip of blood falling from the discarded shirt in his hand.
Finally, he croaks a question, barely moving more than his lips, his dark eyes piercing onto Brennan's.
"Results."
Booth shifts to stand slightly more in front of Brennan, instinctively trying to draw the attention to him. He is on edge, his fingers twitching, painfully aware of the loss of the weapon he had before. He feels Brennan's slight fingers scrunch his shirt at the small of his back- she's nervous.
Doing her best to keep her face neutral, Brennan told him of her conclusions. She expected disappointment or anger, possibly violence. Instead Coralilo's stoic expression didn't change and the silence continued. Beside her Booth's body coiled even tighter, informing her that though she couldn't identify it, there was in fact a reaction from Coralilo. Brennan's heart starts pounding.
Coralilo's trance seems to break when Thin Man enters the tent, his face pale but just as stoic as his father's. The two speak quickly in Spanish, throwing long looks at Brennan and Booth. The longer it goes on, the angrier Booth becomes, his control starting to fray. He curses viciously under his breath, earning an admonishment from Brennan. But it serves to finally cut the dialogue between Thin Man and Coralilo.
"Berto will drive you directly to town I named before," Coralilo informs them, moving to a chest by his desk.
"Two minutes," Thin Man agrees and then steps out, shouting orders in Spanish.
Brennan watches Coralilo carefully place his blood-soaked shirt on his desk, staring at it before he bends to his chest.
"Your daughter-," Brennan presses her lips together, tears choking off her words when he looks at her, his grief plain. "I'm…"
"We're sorry about Catalina," Booth finishes quietly for her, his heart aching for the little girl he helped save years ago and how her life had ended.
Coralilo simply nods, buttoning up a clean tan shirt.
"Let's go," Berto says, poking his head in, a truck pulling up outside the tent behind him.
There are no more words exchanged as Booth helps Brennan climb into the truck. Brennan settles against Booth, the trauma of the last week finally catching up with her. Safe in Booth's arms, she closes her eyes and gratefully finds a reprieve in sleep.
Booth presses a kiss to Brennan's forehead, grateful she got some rest during the long, miserable ride to town. "Bones. Wakeup, baby."
"Seeley?" she mumbles, eyes still closed. His heart beat is strong and steady beneath her ear, coaxing her to return to sleep, but loud voices speaking rapid Spanish drag her out of her doze. "Booth? Where are we?"
Before he can answer the truck is opened by Thin Man, gesturing them out. "Huehuetenango."
The couple climb out, Booth making sure to take most of Brennan's weight. Booth is surprised to see they are outside the airport; he expected to be dropped off at the outskirts of the town. He turns to Thin Man, who hands him his bag. Booth looks at it, wondering how much of its original contents are making the trip back to DC. As if reading his thoughts, Berto smiles faintly.
"You have everything, lo prometo. Maybe a little…," he says, trailing his eyes to Brennan. "Rumpled. But it will smooth out again, yes?"
"Thank you," Brennan says, leaning heavily on Booth, feeling the swelling in her ankle throb.
Booth begins to say his own thanks, but Thin Man- Berto- waves him off with a hard expression. "Mi hermana had a life because of you. And me, too. We are repaid. Equal."
His eyes flicker to the road behind them and smirks. He climbs back into the front of the truck, pulling out a cigarette. "I'm sad to miss your amigo. He made me laugh."
With that the truck leaves, Booth stumbles back with Brennan to avoid the dust kicked up by the tires. Booth glares at the retreating vehicle.
"Fucker."
No sooner is the curse out than another, smaller truck, pulls up in front of them. The back opens and a figure tumbles out, a bag over their head. The truck streaks away, leaving the bewildered trio behind.
"Damn it!" the figures yells angrily, removing the black cloth over its head. "Fucking assholes!"
"Hodgins!" "Jack!"