(Right after "The Body in the Bag")

MstgSzy made a request a few months ago that I write a story about Gordon Gordon and Booth. I know you requested something different, but this is what my muse decided on. I still have your other story idea.

A/N: This story is AU.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooo

It was late and Chef Gordon Wyatt didn't appreciate his sleep being interrupted. He needed his sleep if he was to be at the top of his game at his restaurant and calls at three in the morning were not welcome under any circumstances.

"Hello."

It's all wrong, Gordon Gordon. It's all wrong and it's my fault. All my fault.

"Booth?" Surprised, Gordon sat on the edge on of his bed and tried to clear the cobwebs from his mind. "Are you alright?"

No and I never will be . . . it's all my fault. I ruined everything and now . . . what do I have to live for?

"Booth, for God's sake, where are you?" Worried, he carried his phone over to his dresser and pulled a pair of pants from the bottom drawer. "Tell me where you are?"

I wish I knew . . . Gordon . . . I love her and I can't have her. I can never have her.

Anxious, Gordon slipped on his pants almost falling doing it one handed. "Booth, don't do anything foolish, do you hear me. I think you're drunk and I think you need to stop drinking right now. Do you understand me?"

Yeah, I understand . . . I wish I had done things differently, but if wishes were horses I'd . . . um . . . have a whole set or something like that. Do you know what I mean?

"Not the slightest." Gordon grabbed a shirt and got it on without dropping his phone. "Tell me where you are. I need to see you. I have something I need you to help me with."

I'm too drunk, Doc and I can't help myself . . . I got to go.

The call ended and Gordon was afraid. He was afraid his young friend was too drunk for his own good and he might do something he shouldn't. He didn't know who to call about the situation. Booth was the head of his department at the FBI and if he did the wrong thing, the younger man could lose his job. He'd have to take care of it by himself. "His apartment. I'll check there." He didn't know where else to look, but that was a good place to start.

Oooooooooooooooo

No one answered when Gordon knocked on Booth's apartment door and he knew he had to look elsewhere for the agent. He thought about the many conversations that he'd with Booth when the agent was one of his clients and he realized he did know where Booth probably was.

Arriving at the Lincoln Memorial, he found Booth sitting on the top steps, the Lincoln statue behind him. The agent was slouched over with his elbows on his knees and his hands over his eyes. Clearly the man needed some help.

"Booth."

"Yeah." Booth kept his hands over his eyes. He was drunk and he didn't feel like talking to anyone.

Relieved that the man was physically alright for the moment, Gordon sat down next to Booth. "I always liked this memorial." He wanted to see if Booth would respond or just ignore him.

"One of my ancestors murdered the guy." It was humiliating to be related to a man who had committed treason like that. "He was one of my great whatever uncles. Not exactly something to brag about." He uncovered his eyes and blinked his eyes rapidly. "I try to tell myself I'm not responsible for things that other people do, but John Wilkes Booth is a stain on my family. It's never going away."

"Booth, what's wrong?" Gordon had heard Booth talk about John Wilkes Booth before and he knew the agent had nothing but contempt for that assassin. He also knew that the Lincoln Memorial gave him peace most of the time and that was why he had known to look here.

Leaning back, he looked up at the dark sky above him and wondered what he should say. Booth didn't really like to share his problems with anyone, but he had shared many private things from his past with the former psychiatrist and he supposed there was no reason to hide them now. "Last week, Bones told me that she missed her chance . . . she was talking about last year when I asked her to take a chance on us. At first, I thought I could just accept what she had said and move on. I mean I'm with Hannah now, so what choice do I have? I even told Hannah about what Bones said thinking I was doing the right thing, but I know it was wrong. What goes on between me and Bones is between us and no one else. It's always been that way and I just betrayed her . . . It's eating me up . . . When I asked her for that chance last year, well . . . she was afraid at the time. I know that now. You can't push Bones too hard about anything and I pushed. It was a mistake and now both of us are paying for that. I'm with Hannah. I can't dump Hannah because Bones couldn't give us a chance last year. What would that make me? What kind of man would I be if I could dump Hannah because Bones changed her mind? I'm not that man. I'm not."

He heard the pain in Booth's voice and he knew he'd have to tread carefully. "So, Dr. Brennan told you she made a mistake and should have given you both a chance? Am I right?"

His life feeling out of control, Booth ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah." Grasping his knees, Booth closed his eyes and tried to sober up. He didn't know why he'd thought getting drunk was the answer, but all it did was confuse him. "I'm not my father . . . I'm not a drunk."

"I know that Agent Booth." Gordon placed his hand on Booth's shoulder. "I can see your dilemma. Perhaps you shouldn't have told Hannah, but that is done and you have to forgive yourself for making a mistake. It was a mistake, Booth."

"Yeah, I guess." Opening his eyes, he looked out at the reflecting pool and the Washington Monument in the distance. "When Hannah followed me back, I was surprised. She'd told me that she wasn't interested in commitment, but then she quit her job in Afghanistan and came here to be with me. I thought she loved me. I mean she does love me but I don't know how much and Bones . . . I don't know if Bones loves me, but she's my friend and I love her . . . I don't want to lose her friendship. I don't know how to handle any of this. I've just made a mess of everything . . . I don't know who I am anymore."

His words worried Gordon. They were the words of a man who sounded like he was defeated and that was something he had never expected from Booth. The agent had been through many trials during his life, abused as a child, a prisoner of war, a man conflicted about his job as a sniper with the Rangers, a man who wanted a family but couldn't seem to get the one he wanted and yet, he never seemed to give up until now. He'd also heard Booth say he loved Brennan but he hadn't said he loved Hannah. "I think I know who you are Booth. You're a man who wants trust and stability in your life but have seen little of either. Dr. Brennan has told you something that should be good news but isn't because you're committed to a relationship with someone else. That would confuse anyone I can assure you."

"But what do I do?" Booth turned to face Gordon. "I know what I should do, but . . . I can't lose Bones, no matter what happens. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me and I can live with just being her friend if that's what she wants . . . I'm with Hannah, I made a commitment and I can't just throw away that relationship because I screwed up. That wouldn't be fair to Hannah. She gave up a job she loved to be with me."

Gordon knew that Booth was looking for a way to remain an honorable man. He had a set of values that defined who he was and ignoring those values could destroy who he was. "As far as I can see, there is no reason to lose Dr. Brennan. You must decide what you wish to do about Hannah, but whatever you decide to do, it doesn't mean you have to give up your friendship with Dr. Brennan. You two have been good friends for several years now and a friendship like that should never be thrown away." What Gordon really wanted to say was that he knew that Booth loved Brennan and he would never love Hannah the way he did his partner, but this wasn't his decision to make. Booth had to live with the consequences what ever decision he made. He just hoped that Booth didn't throw away his friendship with Brennan because they relied upon each other for emotional stability. It was the one good thing about their friendship. Two broken people had found someone that they could count on when all else failed. Yes, they'd had a few missteps here and there, the biggest one being leaving the country for several months, separation hadn't done them any good. It hadn't helped them at all.

Torn, Booth knew that he would have to talk to Brennan about their friendship and their future. It might not be the future they wanted, but Booth didn't see another way out and remain the man he wanted to be. "Yeah, no matter what, Brennan is my friend. Maybe my only friend . . . at least it feels like that sometimes."

His feelings weren't hurt. Gordon knew that there were many levels of friendship and Booth's words didn't bother him. He knew the agent was still drunk and focused on his problem. Booth did have friends, but they weren't numerous and Brennan was probably the only one he had that meant the world to him. That was okay, at least he had that one person in his life. Gordon wished he had someone like that too, but his best friend had died when he was a young man and he had never found anyone that he held as dear as Robert Graves. A man who died before his time. Life wasn't always fair. "Talk to Dr. Brennan, Booth. Have an honest conversation with her. You won't regret it."

"Yeah, I should do that." Slowly standing, Booth let the dizziness pass then laughed. "Doc, want to help me make it down these steps?"

Amused, Gordon stood up and grasped Booth's hand. "I'm not only going to help you down these steps, I'm going to drive you home."

The steps were many, but Booth was confident he wouldn't fall. "Thanks Doc. My truck is at home, I wasn't stupid enough to drive drunk."

Ooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.