(After season 12)

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooo

Hank had been binging on the old 'X-Files' tv series for the last two days and Brennan was becoming annoyed. She found him in his bedroom, sitting on a chair at his desk, facing his television that was situated on his chest of drawers. "Hank, you've barely left your room for the last 48 hours. I hope you don't plan to spend your summer vacation watching television. If you can't find something positive to do with your time, I can."

His mother's voice was grim and Hank knew he'd better not ignore her. The last time he'd ignored her he'd ended up painting the exterior garage walls and weeding the garden. "Mom, I promise I'm not going to just watch television during my break. I'm just trying to wind down. I just got out of school and those finals were brutal. I'm going to be a senior next semester and it's a big deal, at least to me. I have to decide what University I want to attend or if I want to go to college at all."

Brennan held up her hand. "You will go to university. You told me you're interested in a career in science so that means a higher education."

"I know, I'm not sure why I said that." Hank sighed. "I guess I'm tired of school right now. I'm not as smart as Chrissy and . . ."

"You most definitely are as smart as your sister." Worried about her son's lack of confidence, Brennan sat down on Hank's bed and stared at him. "Hank, I don't like to compare my children as it seems to be counterproductive, but your IQ is higher than your sister's. She worked hard to get the grades she got, but she enjoyed the experience for the most part. It prepared for her for what she wants to do in life. Chrissy is confident which is something you need to work on. She's a brilliant child and so are you . . . I misspoke . . . she's a woman and you're almost a man, but you do know what I mean."

Amused, Hank kept his face serious. "Yeah, I know what you mean. We're always going to be your kids. You're going to be 80 someday and I'm going to be in my 40's and I'm still going to be your kid. I get it."

"Yes, well . . . I know you're still unsure what field you want to study at university, but you have time to make that decision. It's possible you may start college and find you don't like what you're studying and change your major. Don't forget Wendell did that and he's happier in his new chosen field. He was never really satisfied working as a forensic anthropologist. He realized that he'd be happier doing something else and he went back to school. You do not need to settle in a profession if you don't like it. I promise you that me and your father will not be disappointed in whatever occupation you choose."

"Gee, thanks Mom." Her words seemed to lift a burden from his shoulders. "It's kind of scary. I'm not a kid anymore. I'm an adult and I have these responsibilities coming my way . . . Mom, I'm just . . . I don't know. I guess I worry too much."

Aware that her son was feeling a little overwhelmed, Brennan stood up, walked over to where he was sitting, leaned over and hugged him. "I understand. I used to think you were like me in many ways, but I see your father in you too. He's a worrier and so are you. Christine is too. Oddly enough, Parker isn't. Perhaps because he lived with his mother more than with his father. Rebecca is not a worrier."

"Yeah, maybe." Hank returned her hug and smiled at her when his mother released him. "I'm getting a part-time job this summer. I start next week. I didn't tell you about it because I've been waiting for Aunt Cam to approve my application. I'm going to work for Uncle Hodgins as his assistant. I didn't want to tell you because . . . well, I wanted to get this job without your help and I guess I thought you might not like me at the Lab."

"Hank, I don't have an issue with you working at the Lab." Not sure why her son would think such a thing, Brennan felt like the situation might be her fault. Maybe she had sounded too territorial about the Lab in the past. She was dedicated to her field of study and she knew she could be intense. "Hank, I don't own the Lab and I don't do the hiring or the firing. I don't mind you working at the Jeffersonian at all. It will be nice to see you during the day and if you need any help or have any questions, please feel free to come to me."

Pleased, Hank stood up and turned his television off. "Thanks Mom, do you have anything you want me to do? I mowed the lawn two days ago and it still looks good."

"You can help me cook dinner." Brennan moved towards the door. "Your father wants you to learn to cook more complicated meals besides breakfast. You will be living alone some day and you cannot live on fast food or breakfast items."

Following her from the room, Hank felt a little lighter hearted. The pressure was off for the time being. He could find a field he was interested in and his mother would back him up.

Ooooooooooooooo

Sleeping soundly on the living room couch, Booth's slumber was interrupted by his phone. It was playing the theme song from 'The X-files' and it had startled him. After he grabbed his phone from the coffee table, he silenced it, checked to see who had called him and noticed his last caller was listed as Brennan. "So, you think you're funny huh?" Standing, he began to search the house and found his wife in the laundry room, folding towels. Holding up his phone, he scowled. "What's the idea? I needed that nap. I told you I was tired."

Puzzled, Brennan placed the folded towel on the table and turned to face her husband. "I don't know what is going on. Why are you awake and why are you angry with me?"

"I was sound asleep when my phone started playing the X-Files theme, at top volume. I checked and the call came from your phone. A joke is a joke, but I've had a hard week and I need to take a nap. I told you I'd help with the housework when I woke up." Annoyed, Booth shook his phone in front of his wife.

"I didn't call you." Checking her pockets, she realized that she didn't have her phone. "In fact, it appears that my phone is missing . . . the last time I saw it was in the kitchen when I was showing Hank how to cut up vegetables for the stir fry we're having for dinner tonight . . . I think our son is playing a practical joke on us."

Slowly nodding his head, Booth rubbed his chin. "Let me think about this. In the meantime, I'm going to finish my nap . . . a practical joke huh." Leaving the room, Booth knew he couldn't ignore the joke or Hank would feel like he could do it again and that could get out of hand. On the other hand, he could do nothing and let the boy worry about what he might do. That seemed a better punishment and he didn't have to put any effort into it.

Oooooooooooooooo

Hank had found the joke he'd played on his father and mother to be funny and he'd shared it with his sister and now his Uncle Hodgins. "I was standing in the hallway so I could see how Dad would react. He woke up and looked a little crazy. He turned off the phone and looked for Mom. Poor Mom didn't know what was going on. I could hear him yelling at her."

Hodgins liked jokes but Hank had started to be a pest about them. Since the boy had started at the Lab he'd pulled a joke on Cam once, Angela twice and Clark once. All of them had forgiven the boy, but Cam was considering letting him go. "Okay, look. This place is not a comedy house. I know you like jokes, but Cam told me if you play one more joke on anyone here, she's going to let you go. She's not kidding either. Since you're working for me, she's letting me talk to you about it . . . We solve crimes, your Mom identifies dead people and so does Cam. They don't want to look foolish especially if there are visitors at the Lab. They need to be taken seriously, we all do . . . And something else, you know your Dad was a prisoner of war in Operation Desert Storm? I'm sure you know since your sister does."

"I don't want Aunt Cam to fire me. My goodness, Dad and Mom will flip their wigs . . . Why are you talking about Dad being a prisoner of war?" Hank was worried that his little jokes were going to get him fired and the change of subject on top of that was confusing him.

"Well, your Dad suffered from PTSD, you know what that is?" Hodgins was certain Booth had suffered from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder after he'd been in prison for something he didn't do, but he didn't feel comfortable talking about that to Hank, so he used Booth's stint as a prisoner of war. He had to get through to the boy.

Slowly nodding his head, Hank wasn't sure why his uncle was talking about that. "Yeah, sure. I've read about PTSD in Psychology class. My Dad was young when that happened, it's been too long for that to be bothering him now."

"You think so?" Hodgins decided to scare the boy a little. He didn't want to lose his nephew at the Lab because Cam hated practical jokes. "A few years ago, before you were born, we were investigating the murder of a woman in a hut. We were sure someone had set up a bomb to go off when she opened the door to her hut, but I needed to be able to prove that . . . I set up an experiment and your Dad was here to see it . . . It kind of went bad. I wasn't using powerful explosives, I'm not stupid, but I did use a gelatin that would launch into the room when someone opened the door. Your Dad was examining the door and . . . well your Aunt Cam opened the door and the goop hit your Dad in the face. He was covered in slime."

"Wow, I wish I could have seen that." Hank laughed. The thought of such a cool joke happening made him laugh. It was so funny.

Watching the boy laugh, Hodgins had to admit that moment had been funny, but he couldn't laugh since he was trying to get Hank to stop with the practical jokes. "Your father pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket and he threatened to kill me with it."

Suddenly, Hank didn't feel like laughing anymore. "He what? He threatened to kill you?"

"Yeah, he said he was going to stab me with the pen." Hodgins looked solemn. "Your father was a Ranger . . . They can kill people with their bare hands . . . or a pen. Anyway, your father stood there looking at me and Cam took the pen from him and walked him to the Men's room . . . Your Dad is a fun guy, really, but don't startle him. He may lash out before he knows what's going on. Get it? Stop with the practical jokes. You may get more than you bargain for."

"Wow . . . I mean, he was mad at Mom when I pulled my joke." Hank rubbed the back of his head. "Parker told me Dad could be dangerous when he needed to be . . . he was telling me about when that guy Mark Kovac came after him and Mom and the guy killed Dad's friend Aldo Clemens. Aldo married Mom and Dad and . . . well, Parker said in the end, Dad killed Kovac with Mom's help . . . Parker didn't bring Kovac up, I found out about him when I was googling Dad's name and I found out about Kovac in the newspaper. Parker filled me in on some of the stuff the paper didn't mention . . . I'm sorry I pulled my jokes. I'll stop . . . It was just for fun, but I guess they might not be funny to some people . . . I get it."

Glad that Hank was willing to stop, Hodgins nodded his head. "Good, you're not a kid anymore and if you want to be a scientist you can't act like a clown. No one will take you seriously. That would kill your career before it even started."

"Yeah, I get it . . . Dad threatened to stab you with a pen?"

"He did." Hodgins turned to watch Cam walk by his office. "I didn't tell you that to scare you. Your father has never hit you or hurt you or Christine or Parker in anyway. He loves you. It's just . . . well, he's been through some things and so have a lot of other people. You never know someone's history so you shouldn't play jokes on them. They may not react the way you think they should . . . Just stop with the jokes."

Feeling contrite, Hank nodded his head. "Yeah, I will."

"Good." Hodgins had always found the goop incident to be very funny, but he guessed he could never talk about it again. Not if he wanted Hank to behave and stop playing practical jokes. Cam was serious and the next joke could be the end of Hank's employment at the Lab.

Ooooooooooooooo

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