BOOTH
Am I happy?! She can't be serious!
Except Bones is always serious.
"Get back here," I insist, easing her back to me until our bodies connect from hip-to-knee this time. "Bones, I've waited a long, long time to have this. We're together. We love each other. I'm the happiest man on earth." I should be relieved the smile is back on her face and the sparkle in her eyes but the revelation about her nightmares now takes forefront in my mind instead. "Bones, do you remember what you said to me when Taffet was on trial for kidnapping us?" She tilts her head in question.
"I said a great number of things. The trial lasted several days. You'll have to be more specific."
"You know. About… about having nightmares. Hodgins is bleeding, I'm drowning…" I prompt. Shifting on her feet, I watch as her guard goes up.
"I don't want to talk about that." Her hand tightens on my upper arm and her eyes zero in on my lips. "I'd much rather…" Moving closer, she melds her lips to mine. I can't stop the hum that rumbles in my throat or the way my arms circle her shoulders and draw her closer. I lose myself in her kiss for a second… Okay, maybe more than a second. As I've said, I've waited a long time to have this and my body is demanding me to put aside my concern for now and take her back to bed. It's how much I love her that demands otherwise. Ending the kiss, I reach for her hand, putting enough space between us this time that she can't reel me back in again.
"I was thinking more of a run while we enjoy the sunrise and some shell hunting before others get all the good stuff," I suggest, hoping the latter would be enough to entice her and it was.
Ten minutes later, clothes changed and running shoes on, we closed the hotel room door behind us.
I figure we've run about a mile, our conversation up until now about anything but us: The beautiful sunrise, the way the beach is almost empty at this time of the morning, if we want to have breakfast at the hotel or somewhere along the boardwalk. Enough time has passed to show Bones has no intention of bringing up the conversation we'd started earlier before she'd cut me off cold which means it is up to me.
Not that I hadn't known it would be.
"Bones, partners, they share things," I remind her of the words I'd told her when we'd started working together as partners.
"I know. You taught me that."
"They don't say 'Forget it."
"I want to ask you a question, but I find it makes me anxious."
"Okay, well, go."
"Forget it."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second. Partners don't say 'forget it.'"
I can see by the wary look on her face that she knows exactly what I'm talking about, both when I'd said those words to her and to her abrupt ending of our conversation today… and doesn't want anything to do with finishing my earlier attempt to get her to talk to me. Sighing mentally, I consider my options before taking a different route.
"Bones, do you remember a few weeks ago that, you know, absolute honesty thing?" I glance at her to find her looking at me as though I've lost my mind a little.
"Of course, I do," she says in a tone that suggests just that. "You're always doing that." Huh?
"Doing what?"
"Asking if I remember something. I remember everything, you know." I roll my eyes. Of course, she does. I let that slide. I have bigger concerns.
"You asked me for an example of when I lied to you."
"Ohhhh, I know where this is going. Here we go."
"Well, now that we've solved the case, you promised that you give me an example—"
"An example of when I lied to you. I got it. Alright. Fine. Okay. Do you remember when I broke up with Hannah?"
"Of course. That was very recently."
"I didn't lie to you. I just didn't tell you how much it meant to me that you were there for me. It meant the world to me."
"And you provided me with an example of when you lied by omission," she notes. I suspect it's meant to be proof that she never forgets anything, but I forge on.
"A couple of years ago, when I had the concussion and we spent the night at the rink, I made you a promise. A couple of them." She frowns.
"No, you didn't."
"Yes, I did. I promised you I'd never let you fall, that I would always be there for you."
"You're going to make me fall."
"I'm never going to make you fall. I'm always here."
"You didn't make me fall. I made me fall."
"What?!" It takes me a hot second to realize she's taken me literally. Taking her hand, I bring both of us to a stop and face her. "Not ice skating, Bones. In life. I broke those promises, which is no different than lying where I come from and I've had a hard time living with it."
"Is that why you were seeing Dr. Wyatt?"
"Yes." With a shake of my head, I correct myself. I'll have to have that conversation with Bones at some point, but not now. "No. It's… complicated." Her heads tip to the side.
"Was it because Hannah turned down your proposal? I know how difficult that was for you." I'm tempted to deny it, but I don't want any more lies, any more secrets between us.
"Not for the reason you think. I went to talk to Gordon-Gordon to try to figure out why I did the things I did, made the choices I made. I had to find a way to come to peace with it all, to find a way to make things right, especially with you."
"Me? Why me?" she asks, clearly surprised. Here it was, the first of the many admissions to come.
"I was angry – really, really angry – that you wouldn't give us a chance. I was—"
"You were hurt," she interrupts, her eyes sliding away from me as she shifts on her feet, "I hurt you." I stumble to a stop, suddenly finding myself back in that night.
"Please… don't look so sad."
The memory brings with it as much pain as the night she'd said the words. I force myself to shake it off. This is not about me.
"Yeah, I was," I confirm. "I've done some really hard things in my life when I've had to, Bones, but being with you every day, knowing you didn't want to be with me? It was too hard. I shouldn't have promised to keep being partners. I should have taken time to get everything going on here," I made a circular gesture towards my head then heart, "straight. I tried to put distance between us thinking you wouldn't notice, but—"
"I was just afraid." The misery in her voice and on her face made my heart squeeze tightly in my chest.
"Of what?" The time I'd spent on the river at Christmas and Gordon-Gordon had helped me figure that much out already but I wanted to hear why from her.
"Being your partner means so much to me," she answers, those big blue eyes welling with unshed tears. I blink my eyes a pair of times when a memory comes to me unbidden, from the weeks after she'd turned me away.
"Our partnership is so important to me. You know that, right?"
She'd looked so sad when she'd said the words and in the seconds after. I hadn't been able to deal with her emotions and mine, so I'd shoved the thought aside. It had already been taking everything I had to sit there in Founding Fathers, listening to her talking about Hacker, prodding me about Catherine. I hadn't told her I'd already decided I wouldn't be seeing Catherine again. It was easier that way.
"It means everything to me." She shifts on those feet again, a tear spilling over and sliding down her cheek. "You mean everything to me. I loved my parents and Russ and when they were gone, there was nothing left. There was no one who loved me. There was no home. There was no one calling 'Marco' from below my classroom window, just making sure I knew they were there and reminding me, even if I had no friends, even if my classmates thought I was weird, everything would be okay because I had them. There was no one who cared where I was any longer. I was all by myself." She shifts on those feet again as another tear falls. "That changed the day I met you. I'm not alone anymore. I have you. I don't know how to be in love. Everything I understand – science and my past - tells me love doesn't last and when it ends, the person you loved goes away." She reaches out and clutches the front of my shirt. "I don't want to lose you." Mentally, I nod my head: I'd been right about the conclusion I'd come to when I'd confronted the events of the year after I'd gambled one time too many. Cupping her upper arms in my hands, I bend my knees slightly so I can better look in her eyes and try to lighten her mood.
"You're never going to lose me, Bones," I promise with a smile and a lift of my brows. "You're my partner. We're like Mulder and Scully… Clark Kent and Lois Lane… An—"
"You can't promise that, Booth," she contradicts, ignoring my reference to fictional characters. "Just like science tells me love can't last, history tells me that I can lose you, because I have." I swallow hard. Talk about a gut punch. Ready or not, I'm prepared to throw myself on my sword and tell her the full story of Hannah and me.
"You never lost me, Bones, not—"
"You died, Booth. For two weeks, I thought you were dead." I blink, surprised by the undertone of anger in the final word. "I lost you."
"You were supposed to know," I remind.
"Yes, and, rationally speaking," she answers with no trace of the anger I thought I'd heard, "I'd have done the same if it meant catching a very bad man. It still doesn't change the fact I learned what it would be like to lose you…" she looks me square in the eyes "… or how quickly – and easily – that could happen."
"Dr. Brennan's actually upset because she had to face strong emotions that she'd rather deny. Striking Agent Booth indicated the depths of your feelings for him."
Had Sweets been right? I'd felt a little smug – and a little relieved – when he'd said what he had, because, let's face it, Bones is pretty damned good at hiding her feelings and if he was right, then her feelings for me ran deep… maybe even deeper than either of us had been prepared for then, I realize now. Especially her.
"I was fine before I met you. I was doing just fine. I may not have had anyone in my life, but that was fine. I had my work. I traveled all over the world. I was respected. It was enough. Then you came into my life…" She seems to be struggling to find the words, so I take a chance.
"And that changed." She tilts her head, her face strained.
"Yes. Suddenly you were there and for the first time since my family left, I had something to lose. I was as attracted to you as you were to me…"
"Are you seeing anyone?"
"Wow. Right to the point there, huh, Bones? Um, casually, but she really doesn't like my hours. You?"
"Well, uh, a physicist has been asking me out, so I was thinking of saying yes."
"I'd ask you out if I could."
"Why can't you?"
"Well, FBI rules again. No fraternizing with other agents or consultants."
"That's too bad."
"Glad you think so."
Oh, I remember. I'd been both flattered… and very turned on.
"Had it been just sex, I would have been fine, but then you said…
"I think this could be going somewhere…"
I close my eyes and nodded my head. I'd put the proverbial fear of God in her. It was something that hadn't even occurred to me in all the time I'd spent trying to figure out why everything had gone wrong… and how to make it right again.
"And when I realized I wanted it to…" she leaves the thought to me to finish.
"Tequila." She nods, slowly, then her eyes skirt away from me.
"Yes." A memory floats through my head. Absently, I rub my cheek with a hand.
"And the slap?" Her eyes fly back to my face and I can see she's tempted to deny it for a second. Her shoulders slump.
"I was angry, not with you but me. I don't think I slept at all that night, laying in bed and reminding myself how foolish I'd been to allow, if only briefly, the romantic idea of love, you, to make me forget my promise to never allow myself to get close to anyone, ever again. I knew you'd never forgive the things I'd said or…" She covers the hand still against my cheek with hers, but let's the action fill in for the words. Grasping it in mine, sensing she is on more stable ground for now, I turn us to walk in the direction we'd been previously running.
"I'm surprised you let yourself work with me again," I share, and with a small tug of her hand, direct us towards the edge of the surf so we can watch for those shells she keeps wanting to hunt. She smiles, ruefully.
"It was something Angela told me Hodgins' had said during that first case, after you fired me." Well, now, that definitely makes me curious.
"What did Bug Boy say?"
"'You ever feel like you saw something great that almost happened, then it didn't?'." A single syllable laugh comes with a wry smile in my direction. "I couldn't contradict the validity of what he'd said. The potential of good that could be done with the Jeffersonian and FBI working together couldn't be calculated but early indications supported significant." She looks at me from the corner of her eye. "Angela tried to convince me to call you on several occasions."
"For personal reasons or professional?" I quip.
"Both," she shrugs, as she bends over to pick up a shell, only to toss it away.
Yeah, I know I'm losing control of the conversation and we are heading in the exact opposite direction of her nightmares, but I can't help myself. Over the last several months, she's had more-and-more of these episodes of relaxed openness where she allows me unrestricted insight to her head… and heart. Most definitely her heart. As much as we need to talk, we need this too. Each time I open up to her or she opens up to me or we open up to each other the trust between us that had been battered and bruised only a few months ago is not only being restored but strengthened.
I've missed that unquestioned trust, more than I can say. Almost as much as I missed the routines Bones and I had but hadn't realized we had until she wasn't there anymore.
"Booth? You okay?" she asks.
I snap out of my thoughts, to see her bent over in front of me examining another shell. My eyes zero in on the ass that my hands have memorized as we've made love. Great, I'm a randy teenager again, my body hardening in response to the memory of soft flesh over firm muscle. I give my head a hard shake to clear that image from my head.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," I fib, those white lies charging in to save me some awkwardness. "For you or her?" I quip, hoping she won't pursue.
"Both." She drops whatever she'd held in her hand. "You knew about that?" She wonders, turning curious eyes towards me as she stands.
"Angela?" I ask. She nods her head. "C'mon, Bones. Angela has all the subtlety of a red Ferrari going a hundred in a thirty mile an hour zone when she is sexually attracted to someone. She's rev'ved her engine in my direction more than once." She frowns at me, confused.
"I don't understand."
"Well, it means…" The odds are any explanation I give her here will only lead to more questions. I opt for the simpler, "Yeah, I knew. I'll tell you what else I knew."
"What's that?"
"Angela would have never made a serious move on me as long as she thought you had any interest." She laughs, quietly.
"I know." Her laughter fades and a pair of questioning eyes focus on me.
"Did you want to have sex with her?" she asks, as casually "I'd understand if you did… want to. She's quite beautiful and from what she says, very creative sexually. I imagine the sex would be very enjoyable." I grab her hand, stopping her.
"Whoa. Wait. Where did that come from? No! I've never wanted to have sex with Angela." I take a breath, reminding myself that this is Bones we're talking about here, Bones and all her monogamy is unnatural and sex is just chemical messenger stuff. The old Bones, that is.
I think. I mean, I hope.
I face her and cup her shoulders this time, putting on what I hope is my most charming smile, having decided I like it a lot more when she is talking about us.
"I knew who I wanted, and it wasn't Angela." I lean in and kiss her. "The only woman," I murmur the words against her lips as we continue to kiss, "I wanted to kiss," I hum against our joined lips "Was you."
When our kiss ends, she steps wordlessly from my arms then slung a zinger at me I hadn't seen coming at all.
"And Cam." I sigh, heavily. It's serves as a reminder than there's another discussion that needs to be had. But, for now, it'll have to wait. I have more important concerns on my mind. Stooping down, she flips a shell from the sand with a flick of her finger, losing interest when it's revealed half the shell is missing. Bending over, I reach for her hand and ease her back to her feet.
"Forget about the shells for a minute, would you? We need to talk about this, Bones." She shifts on her feet. "Why don't you want to tell me about them?" I don't need to explain what 'them' I'm talking about.
"Why is this so important to you?" she asks me instead.
"Why? Because I don't know of many things that leave you so scared that your heart is racing and you're shaking, that's why." She looks away, clearly unconvinced . I try again. "Bones, we're partners. We share. We help each other. It's what we do. Don't shut me out." She closes her eyes and her face crumples. My first instinct is to gather her close and tell her to forget it. I want to help, not cause her more pain. But I stay where I am, some part of me knowing that would mean leaving her to keep suffering. She releases a long, stuttering breath while shaking her head. When her eyes open, they are dry, but she refuses to look at me, focusing far out onto the horizon instead.
"The nightmares aren't because of Taffet and what she'd done to us. They've always been about you." I'd already figured out the nightmare tonight had been about me, but the 'always' is like a punch in the gut. It must show on my face, because when she glances at me, she shifts on her feet again.
"Tell me," I encourage softly. You don't have to be a genius to know the only reason she'll do it because of what she views as unbreakable partner rules. Her eyes slip away from me.
"At first, during Taffett's trial, the nightmare was always the same: Hodgins bleeding then being drug away, then you screaming as you try to get out of the ship's hold and I can't do anything but watch as I lose you." This time it's me who closes my eyes and breathes deep as understanding strikes.
"Because I was putting distance between us and spending less time with you." Without looking at me, she nods her head.
"Yes." She answers so quietly it is almost drowned out by the waves.
"Is that why you decided to go Maluku?"
"Yes," she confirms, still not looking at me. "It seemed logical to believe if I wasn't here, the nightmares would go away because every day I wouldn't have to see how much I was hurting you and it wouldn't hurt so badly we weren't the same. We were broken."
"Did it work? Did the nightmares stop?"
"The dream about watching you drown did. I'd only been there for a few days when I realized I'd made a mistake… more than one mistake." She looked at me with wet, eyes that begged forgiveness and understanding. "I missed you so much." With another shake of her head and long indrawn breath, she looked away from me before continuing. "I couldn't pretend I wasn't in love with you anymore and finally admitted to myself I'd been in love with you for a long time, at least since before the obese woman shot you. I wanted to come home. I wanted to tell you how sorry I was for what I did to you. I wanted to tell you I'd made a mistake, that I wanted to be with you."
"But I was in Afghanistan," I conclude. She nods her head.
"Yes. The nightmares were different then. I didn't just have one each night but many, a couple of them the same every night. Watching you killed in Afghanistan was hard, but what happened after obese woman shot you was worse, because all of it had really happened." I zeroed in on that.
"All of it? Is there something I don't know?"
"I don't know exactly what you knew," she tells me. She turns her attention to the gulls flying above. "I didn't see her shoot you. I was on stage, singing one second and the next I heard a gun fired. I saw you fall to the floor and then realized the obese woman was some how involved, and the look she had on her face told me it wasn't you she was aiming for, but me. I knew what you'd done: Put yourself between me and that bullet. I got to you as quick as I could and when I looked up, she was aiming her gun at me again. I picked up yours and shot her. I killed her." I swallow hard, remembering how bad she'd taken it when she'd shot and killed to save me before. I never wanted her to feel like that again. I hadn't known, I'd been so out of it. I'd never asked about Pam and no one had ever volunteered how she'd been killed. I should have asked, I kick myself now. "They wouldn't let me ride on the ambulance with you. One of the paramedics grabbed me to stop me from getting on. I fought him and took us both to the ground," she smiles proudly then it's gone as quickly as it arrived, "But then another paramedic grabbed me. Hodgins made him let me go and he put me in his car and followed the ambulance." She shifts on her feet and the quick swipe of her hand across her face tells me she's crying. "The hospital wouldn't let me see you. They didn't care that I'm your partner. When the doctor finally came out of the operating room, he said you'd died. I didn't believe it, not at first. You couldn't be gone. I made it past him and went from room-to-room yelling for you. I couldn't find you." The guilt is almost crippling.
"Bones, I didn't know. If I had, I never would have let you go through that. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry." She gives me a weak smile, but doesn't say anything. "Was that the nightmare you were having this morning?" She nods her head slowly.
"One of them, at least, but it's the that woke me up. It almost always does. It's not a nightmare, but a memory."
"Have you been having the nightmares this whole time? Since Taffet?" She finally turns to look at me.
"I thought when I came home, everything would be fine, that everything would be like it was before that night. You came to where we promised to meet when we got home and, at the time, it seemed like evidence said—"
"Everything was okay between us," I conclude.
"Yes. But it wasn't. You knew that." My tongue flicks out to moisten my lips, nervously.
"Yeah, I did." Truth is sometimes a very painful thing.
"I hadn't anticipated you'd be even more distant than before." She shifted uncomfortably. "Or Hannah. I hadn't anticipated Hannah." I grimaced openly this time.
"And that's why the nightmares started again?" She looks away from me.
"Yes," she confirms softly.
"And you've had them ever since?" Could this get any worse? Another shake of her head brings some relief.
"No. I haven't had any since February until Broadsky killed Vincent." I don't have to be a genius to put two-and-two together: Since I broke up with Hannah and stopped pushing Bones away. As if I wasn't feeling enough like a heel, her face crumples and eyes fill. "It could have been you. It was supposed to be you!" She weaves slightly in my direction. It's the signal I've been waiting for. I move to her and wrap my arms around her, drawing her firmly against me.
"You're not the only one who's afraid, Bones." It's a tough admission but one she more than deserves. A dry, disbelieving laugh is her response.
"You?"
"Yeah, Bones, me—" The phone in my pocket starts to ring, cutting off that thought. Pulling it out, I glance at the caller ID. Releasing Bones, I answer it. "Booth."
"I know, I said the lab was closed until tomorrow morning," Cam begins with an apology. "I've been trying to reach Dr. Brennan but she hasn't been answering her phone. Do you know where she is?" I turn on the speaker phone.
"Yeah, she's here with me. She must have left it in the truck," I lie smoothly.
"That doesn't sound like her," Cam comments, then dismisses the thought. "Do you have Parker?"
"No. Me and Bones are in Delaware. We wanted to tell Leishenger's family in person of his sacrifice and to give them some of his personal effects."
"We have a body," she announces without fanfare. "it's a child, Seeley."
"Man, a kid?" My stomach tightens into knots, as it always does when there's a kid involve? "I hate it when it's a kid."
"You and me both. How long will it take you to get there she asked, rattling off the address.
"We can leave right now," Bones offers. As if I'd expect anything less.
"That's not far from the cabin where Pops and me spent Christmas," I share, while looking at my watch and guessing how long it will take to get there. "Three hours if I speed and traffic's light, three-and-a-half if it's heavy."
"Make sure no one disturbs the remains before I get there," Bones directed, once more forgetting Cam's the boss. As is usually the case, Cam lets it slide.
"Dr. Brennan, do you need us to bring anything?"
"My boots are in my office. Booth won't allow me to keep them in his truck because he says they smell."
"They can't smell as bad as his hockey equipment," Cam jokes. As though their clothes smell fresh after a good workout.
"We'll see you there." I hang up the phone without saying goodbye. "Tell you what, I'll grab us breakfast and coffee while you hit the shower," I offer as we begin the job back to the hotel, "And you can get those books autographed while I get ready."
"Alright." Then with a smile over shoulder at me, she takes of in a full tilt run. I laugh, as I pick up my pace.
"Whatcha doing, Bones?"
"Think you can keep up?" She challenges. I up the ante.
"Loser buys breakfast and after all the exercise I got last night, I'm starving…"