Title: Sometimes, He Needs to Forget
Author: moonfairyhime
Rating: K
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.
Summary: Sometimes, Booth just needs to forget.
Feedback: I'd really appreciate it.
When Booth and Bones first began working together, she asked him why he spent so much time drinking. Booth had neatly sidestepped the question and Bones had never asked the former-Army-sniper-turned-FBI-agent again. Booth had decided from the very moment he first saw Bones and her team that he would not let himself get to close to them. They were squints, after all, and after the cases were solved, Booth retreated back into the normal world and they went back to wherever squints went after they got done being useful.
Booth figured it was merely a coincidence that they started appearing together more and more often. That they started going to the same restaurant and somehow all of their phone numbers ended up in his cell phone. When Zack asked him why he always made sure to have one drink containing some trace of alcohol, Booth left money on the counter and walked out the door.
After Angela asked Booth the same question two weeks later, Booth finally lost his temper with the squints. The night had started off normal, Booth sat at the bar and the squints enjoyed their table in the back. Angela had come up to the bar to get a refill on her drink and she asked Booth the same question.
Needless to say, Booth snapped. "You want to know why I drink so much? Do you really want to know! Unfortunately, I. Can't. Tell. You. Things get classified for a reason. Now, if you will all excuse me, I'm going to go now."
Bones slid out of the booth she had been sitting in. "Where are you going, Booth?"
"I am going home where squints can't pester me their questions." Booth then proceeded to stalk out of the bar, only stopping long enough to say good-night to Sid.
When he heard the door close, Sid looked at the remaining people. "You shouldn't question him so much. Sometimes, he needs to forget."
When Booth entered his house, the keys got thrown onto the table and without even thinking, Booth poured himself a glass of Scotch. He threw himself into a chair in his living room, staring at all the pictures of his buddies from the Army. He stood up and looked a picture with him and two other sniper friends. He missed them. Both of his friends had lost their lives in Afghanistan when an enemy sniper killed them before they could kill the sniper.
"Is it so wrong to want to forget, guys? I did a lot of things that I'm not a proud of and that I want to forget. I've taken a lot of lives. The squints I work with don't realize how much blood covers these hands and how much I want to forget!" Booth absentmindedly began rubbing his tattoo. When he realized what he was doing, he stopped and took a quick sip of his Scotch. "I know what I did was necessary. I know I saved a lot of people's lives by being a sniper. I don't regret the lives I've saved; I just regret the bloodbath that's required.
"Some days, it's just nice to forget that I was a sniper who took lives and just pretend that I'm Seeley Booth, FBI agent who saves good people and puts bad people behind bars. Maybe if I save these lives, I'll have a chance to atone for the ones I've taken..." Booth shook his head as he sat back down, sipping his Scotch. "I don't believe I'm talking to a picture like it's going to answer. Some days, it's easier than others just to forget."