After The Bullet in the Brain
Chapter 2
"The thing about the ocean is that the surface won't always tell you what is going on underneath."
― Jennifer Arnett, Into Her Chambers
There was an innocence to her, an undefiled purity he couldn't explain mixed in there with all that intelligence and strength and pain. Maybe it was her honesty. While she didn't always reveal the truth of her, she never lied. He could trust that, always. What were the lyrics to that old Billy Joel song, Booth thought as he stared up at his bedroom ceiling, "...and she only reveals what she wants you to see." God, that was her.
He was alone, Hannah was out of town on assignment. There was a certain freedom in that he appreciated. He didn't have to feel guilty for lying next to one woman and thinking about another. Rough and low, he hummed the song, inserting whispered lyrics here and there.
She can kill with a smile
She can wound with her eyes
She can ruin your…
His soft words drifted off and he took a long pained breath. Faith, she can ruin your faith.
And she only reveals what she wants you to see
She hides like a child...
Earlier that night, staring out the diner window, he watched that woman, that incredibly intelligent, strong, beautiful woman, his partner, his Bones, saying goodbye to her father. He saw it so clearly then, her innocence, it stole his breath away. It was in her eyes, a kind of childlike awe, written all over her soft features as she took that conch shell from her father and raised it to her ear. Her intelligence, her command of large, complicated words, her outwardly cold, harsh persona, they were all just defenses to hide her tender heart. It wasn't that she didn't feel, that wasn't it at all, it was that she felt too much, too deeply.
That innocence awakened something in him, from the very beginning, a force that drew him in and demanded he protect her and her vulnerable heart. He was her sentinel. He fought it at first, denying it. After all, she was brilliant, easily the smartest person he ever met. How could someone so intelligent be so naive, unless they were smart enough to play dumb? But it wasn't an act, not with her, there was no manipulation. The crinkle in her brow, "I don't know what that means." And she didn't. It was a beautiful dichotomy, he loved that about her.
His right hand drifted over his bare chest, his left arm wrapped tight around him. It hurt and he was trying to hold it still in the hopes of controlling the pain. Turning his head, he looked over at the nightstand where Bones left his pain killer and a glass of water.
He protected her and she protected him or maybe she just picked up his broken pieces and fit them all back together again like one of her shattered skulls. Whatever it was, it worked, they worked, as a partnership, as friends, he reminded himself, trying to push their relationship back into the simple definitions dictated by society.
Oh, and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind
It worked, they worked, even after their return to DC, until she changed her mind, about him, about them. He barely let himself think it, pushing the thought away as fast as he could, rationalizing her behavior. Booth let his eyes fall closed. It was too late. There was too much evidence.
When it happened, his ill fated confrontation with Broadsky, he called for help. Injured, barely able to move, completely unable to drive, there was no other choice. Then, when he was at the hospital, when he knew the extent of his injuries he called Bones and Hannah. Hannah didn't answer, but he didn't expect her too. When she called back, asking hesitantly if she needed to come home, he could tell she hoped he'd say no, so he did. Reassuring her, he told her he was fine, his injuries all minor.
Bones on the other hand dropped everything and raced to the hospital.
He could hear her, God, she was fierce. The nurses weren't going to let her come back to see him, tactical error on their part. Laughing at the memory of her ranting and railing all over the staff, he smiled into the darkness of his bedroom.
Her voice echoed through the open emergency room. He should've let them know right away that he wanted her back there with him, but he didn't. He just sat there on that gurney and listened, enjoying the whole scene a little too much. Her voice emphatic, full of passion, everyone should have that, someone so intensely protective.
"But, I'm his partner. I need to see him...now." There was something more in her voice, a slight tremble, an undertone of fear and concern for him, a hint of possession. "And I need to speak to the attending physician...immediately...and see all the lab work and x-rays. You did take x-rays, right?" It was that undertone of fear that got him. He couldn't let her suffer like that. Grabbing the closest nurse, he addressed her in that low confident voice of his.
"It's okay, she's with me, send her back."
The way she barreled through that curtain. The contrast of that pretty white blouse against her pale skin and her dark hair and he was sure the painkillers they gave him didn't help. She looked like an angel, his guardian angel.
The worry in her eyes overwhelmed him.
That was the moment, he was sure of it. Something broke between them, this essential part of them they'd been holding back was finally released. Speechless, their eyes caught in a simple, quiet exchange. That silent communication, the way they spoke to each other without words, they found it again in that small backwoods hospital, in the middle of nowhere, along Interstate 64, saying what couldn't be said aloud.
It was a relief, it felt good, more like them than they'd been since returning home and reactivating their partnership. At the same time, it was dangerous, he knew it, to let each other in like that. The rest of the evening stood as a witness of that.
Sprawled out in the middle of the bed Booth shook his head and let out a long tired breath, adjusting himself in search of a more comfortable position. Pain shot through his arm causing a sharp gasp to escape. It was time for more painkiller, past time really. Taking a deep breath he rolled and reached for the bottle Bones left him.
"Are you ready to go?" He'd been so lost in thought that he didn't see her come back into the diner. Looking up, he watched as she pulled her lip between her teeth, shifting her weight back and forth.
"Go?"
"Home. Are you ready for me to take you home?"
"What? No, Bones, you don't need to do that. I'm -" She cut him off.
"Nonsense."
"I'm just up the street."
"You were nearly blown up, Booth. I'm not letting you walk home." The tilt of her head, eyes wide and stubborn, she already won and she knew it. Letting out another long sigh, he pulled his gaze away and stared back out the window before pushing up from the table. He wobbled as he tried to juggle one crutch with his good arm to take pressure off his injured leg. Maybe she was right, maybe he needed help getting home. But after that, he was fine on his own.
As soon as she pulled the car over, he tried to just get out and walk himself inside. Before he could protest the engine was off, keys in her hot little hand, and she was rounding the passenger side getting his crutch from the backseat. He let his eyes fall closed momentarily. It would be different if Hannah was home, but having Bones up in his apartment, being alone with her, that wasn't appropriate. He never wanted there to be any question in Hannah's mind that he was faithful to her.
Life was never that simple, not for him. He was no match for her insistence, though this time she offered an explanation. One he wasn't at all sure he liked.
"I told Hannah I would make sure you were settled for the night before I left." She said as she waltzed right past him, bustling through his apartment. He nearly lost his balance as he turned quickly trying to keep up with her, first behind him, then in front of him, then in his kitchen getting a tall glass of fresh water.
"It's really not necessary." He was stiff, not relaxed in the slightest and he wasn't sure if it was because Bones was there, in his apartment, being so domestic or the fact the two most important women in his life colluded against him.
At least Hannah knew Bones was there helping him, he consoled himself. He assumed she approved. Of course, why wouldn't she. He'd told her there was nothing between Bones and him except work and friendship, the by product of nearly six years as partners in highly stressful life-threatening conditions.
"Okay, I get it. I'll be a good patient." Closing the door behind him, he hobbled toward his bedroom. He was exhausted, thinking for sure he'd lay down and pass out immediately. She could play nurse Nancy then let herself out when she was satisfied, he was going to sleep.
Staring down at the bed, he heard the glass and medicine bottle as she set them on his bedside table. She was right there behind him. Damn painkillers dulled his reaction time, left him exposed. He couldn't help the shuddered breath that chased her gentle touch as she turned him around. She was undoing the sling that held his arm. Eyes wide, darting across her in the dim light of his bedroom, breath shallow and thready, he tried his best not to react to her touch.
"What? What're you…" He stuttered.
"You need help changing." She was so matter of fact and while he was ruffled by their proximity and touch, she clearly wasn't. Maybe she really moved on. Maybe it was that easy for her, the queen of compartmentalization, just box him up and set him aside like there was nothing really there between them.
He pulled away. "I'm fine, Bones, I can do it myself." But he couldn't. One handed, his fingers fumbling, he kept at it, determined.
She lifted the sling carefully over his head, supporting his arm with her steady hand. She was so close, he was sure she could hear his heart pounding uncontrollably.
Please don't, his eyes begged.
I won't hurt you, hers answered as she gathered his t-shirt in her hands and started to lift it up over his body. Speechless, he just stood there obedient to her every prompting and movement. In her defense, she was careful, her fingers barely touched him and when they did it was unbearably light. He was sure that was worse as the electricity of her touch shot through him with each brush of her fingers against his bare skin.
She was talking, but, God, he had no idea what she was saying. Why was she always the one undressing him? The universe clearly hated him. Before he knew it he was standing there shirtless before her. Darting around him again, she pulled down the covers, then set her nimble finger to the button on his jeans.
"Bones!" He swore his voice cracked, like a freaking teenage boy.
"What?" His excited utterance stopped her dead in her tracks. "Did I hurt you?"
"I can get my own pants." Pushing her hands away he frantically went to work on the button. A step back and she stood there watching, arms folded smuggly across her chest. Without thinking, he moved his left arm, heaving in pain. Before he could ward her off, she was there, again. "Look, I'll just sleep with them on, okay? I don't need you...undressi-"
"Booth, I've done it before. It's not like I haven't seen you in your underwear." That didn't help, really, really didn't help. Looking straight up at the ceiling he let out an exasperated sigh. "You will rest better if you are comfortable and rest is an important part of healing. Just let me help, okay?" Pulling his gaze back to her stopped him dead in his tracks. There was something there in her eyes, something screaming that this was more than Bones being a pain in the ass. And then he heard it, whispered as an afterthought, wedged between her uncomfortable demands and commentary on what he wore to bed. "I should've been there for you," barely audible under her breath, "we're partners."
He stopped protesting. Stood still as she unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down, insisting he lean on her for support while he carefully stepped out of them. Partners, it was all they had left. He could see the pain in her eyes. She left not long after that, she made sure he was comfortable, that he had everything close at hand he might need to get through the night, water, meds, phone, insisting he call if he needed anything, then left. He heard the door close behind her, the lock clunk heavily into place.
God, Sweets was right, he still had feelings for her.
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A/N: I want to say thank you for the wonderful response to this story. I am overwhelmed and humbled by the reviews, follows, and favorites. They kept me going this week as I wrestled with this story (winner has yet to be determined) I am so grateful for your continued support and encouragement. Hopefully, this long weekend will give me a chance to catch up on answering those reviews! A special thank you to snowybones for all her help and feedback.
My plan right now is to post a new chapter each Thursday. I'm a few chapters ahead in writing so hopefully I can keep that schedule.
Oh, the song mentioned in the chapter is by Billy Joel, She's Always a Woman. It was originally released in 1977. I must have watched the youtube video of this song a million times while I was writing this chapter. It's one of my favorites. I especially loved comparing performances of the song when he was young to ones done more recently. You can hear the wisdom time and age has brought to the song.
Thank you for reading and please leave a review and tell me what you think so far.
Much love
~DG
