What I Wish I Could've Said

Rated: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: Hindsight is always 20/20. Everyone has a single moment that they wish they could have said something better than what they actually did. A completely random series of what-if vignettes.

Ch 7: That Time Booth Said I Love You

As the partners walked down the street, Brennan was uncertain how to respond to Booth's odd behavior. Things had been strange between them for some time, distant in many ways, and she was once again coming to doubt her decision. Had she really made the best choice when she left Booth after his surgery? Had it really been that fair of her to leave him when she did?

Yes, a few days after Booth came out of his coma, when she knew he was medically stable, she had bolted from DC. She had gone to Guatemala for six weeks, ostensibly to participate in a humanitarian mission to begin identify a new cache of victims found in a mass grave found outside of Quetzaltenango. In reality, she had spent ten days helping UN aid workers in their makeshift lab at the anthropology department housed on the university grounds at San Carlos de Guatemala. But, after those ten days, Brennan, without telling anyone, had actually spent the rest the six weeks for which she had been gone sitting on a beach in Monterrico. Brennan had spent much of each day just staring at the water, letting the rays of the warm sun rain down on her body, as her brain contemplated what had happened. Brennan had spent a lot of time thinking about those days just before, during, and just after the events that surrounded Booth's brain surgery. She didn't know how else to cope.

How fast things had changed, Brennan thought. Finally, *finally* Brennan had reached a point in her life where she thought she was ready to take the next step. I was strong enough, brave enough, and ready to take control of my life to make something that was just *mine* - a family. Brennan had decided she was going to create a new family, and it would be one that would never fall a part because she left it. Daring to hope, although she never would admit it to anyone – lest of all herself – Brennan also believed that her decision maybe, just *maybe* might act as a final balm to the pain caused by the one she had lost so many years before when her parents and brother abandoned her. I was going to have a baby, and then I know I would finally have someone who loved me unconditionally and would never leave me. It had been a euphoric feeling really, for those two days when Booth had agreed to be her donor, and Brennan prepared for the insemination. She finally felt as if things were happening as they were meant to – not that she believed in a ludicrous idea like fate. But, then, Booth had gotten sick and needed surgery. For some reason she still didn't know, while she was holding vigil at his bedside, Brennan had written that damn book, and when Booth finally did wake up – as if to taunt Brennan with what she only then started to realize she had lost once again, the dream of her new family – he thought they were married and expecting a baby. It was so unfair, so *very* unfair.

And, in the end, the inequity had been too much really. Too much to deal with, all at once, Brennan thought. So, as soon as she had made certain that Booth was out of immediate medical danger, Brennan had left. She jumped at the chance to go to Guatemala, to put as much distance between herself and DC as possible. It was selfish, I knew, very selfish. But, I didn't know what else to do, or how else to cope. I needed time and space to think, to compartmentalize, and I couldn't do that here. She needed some time to lick her wounds, to deal with the bitter disappointment of watching the dream of her family slip through her fingers, and so Brennan did what she always did best in such situations – she ran.

Now, reluctantly back in DC and returned to work, confronted with this familiar, but unfamiliar Booth, Brennan was half-thinking that maybe she hadn't made the best decision, after all. Maybe I should'nt have left? Would things be this awkward between us if I had? Or, maybe I wasn't ready to return from Monterrico, after all. Maybe I did need more time away from DC, from the lab, from work, and most of all, maybe... Booth? Maybe I haven't been as successful as I thought I've been in compartmentalizing all my emotional turmoil - the bitter disappointment and overwhelming sadness. I'll adjust, I lknow I will, but I think I need more time, and until then, I'm just not certain how to help Booth cope with his own changes. I want to be a good partner and to help him, but I'm not even certain how to handle his issues at the same time as my own problems. How do I fix this? How do I fix him? How do I fix us? Such thoughts swirled in her head as they continued chatting absentmindedly about the post-surgery changes Booth had experienced as they made their way slowly down the street.

"Well, I'm sure in a few weeks you'll hate clowns again," Brennan offered lamely. "Be back to normal."

Booth stared at her for a moment, somewhat more nervous than Brennan thought she'd noticed him being even a few moments earlier. Nodding his head, Booth weakly agreed, "Yeah, a few weeks."

Suddenly, a part of her brain processing the meaning of one of Booth's earlier statements, Brennan stopped walking and looked up at Booth. "What did you want to tell me?"

The look Booth gave Brennan was one she hadn't ever seen before on his face. Suddenly, as if a mask had been removed, and she could see the *real* Seeley Booth for the first time in the entire time they'd known each other, Brennan felt a knot form in her stomach. His eyes, a light with emotion, held her gaze intently, and it was almost too much for her to deal with in her current fragmented frame of mind. It was almost as if Booth was trying to convey a slew of thoughts and emotions to her nonverbally, telepathically transmitting them to Brennan with that single look – a look that made her breath catch in her throat, her stomach roll to the point she thought she might throw up, and her toes curl in pleasure. And, then, suddenly, he broke the spell between them as Booth spoke – and the anticipation shattered, Brennan's mind went from tumultuous to chaotic as the result of four simple words.

"That I love you," Booth told her quietly.

It took Brennan's brain a moment to replay in her mind what Booth had just had. Had she heard him correctly? Was there in any way possible anyway she might've misunderstood his statement? And, then, once Brennan decided, no, there wasn't, her brain started to analyze the brief statement in a thousand different ways.

Why was Booth saying that he loves me?

Why was Booth saying that he loves me *now*?

Did he mean it when he said he loves me?

If he does mean it, what does *that* mean?

How *should* I feel about him saying it?

How *do* I feel about him saying it?

What does Booth want from me?

What did I want from Booth?

What happens next?

Brennan started to feel dizzy as her brain attempted to answer these and many other questions. It was almost as if she had overloaded the system, and her brain started to slow down as it tried to process things because it refused to work under such strenuous conditions. Duress was never a state to which she'd ever responded well mentally.

Booth seemed to be watching Brennan in expectation. As he saw a series of facial expressions cross her face, he immediately panicked and knew he'd made a mistake. Fumbling for some way to backpedal, Booth opened his mouth to speak to soften his statement – soften, he decided, soften, yes. But, no, he couldn't take it back, Booth decided. He just couldn't. About to speak to try to assuage Brennan's own messy emotional response to his words, Booth was cut off when Brennan suddenly looked him square in the eye and focused on the one question more than any others to which she needed to know the answer.

"Do… do you mean that?" she asked softly. Holding his gaze, Brennan tilted her head. She seemed to be pleading with Booth as her blue eyes implored him to say the right thing, but for what specific answer, Booth wasn't quite certain. "Do you really mean that, Booth?"

Swallowing only once, Booth nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes, I do."

"But... why?"

The question caught Booth off-guard. His confession made, Booth had expected Brennan to bolt from him in fear as fast as her two legs could carry her away from him. When she didn't, he couldn't dare to hope, but at least he took it as a positive sign that she was willing to talk. Knowing that he was in for a penny, in for a pound by that point, Booth chose his next words with care.

"Because you're a part of me, Bones," Booth said simply. "I could give you a thousand facts or examples about why I love you, but the most simple one is that at some point… you've become a part of me. I can't… I don't know how to be the man I know I should be unless you're there as a part of the picture… and, so, I love you. I do."

"You sound quite certain of that," Brennan said, her voice no more than a whisper.

"As certain as I am of just about anything I know, Bones, yeah," Booth told her.

"I—"

"Don't," Booth said, sensing her hesitation. "You don't have to say anything, Bones. I'm not… I'm not expecting you to say anything. I just wanted to tell you that… and you have no idea how happy I am that you're not halfway back to the lab by now."

"I want to run," Brennan admitted. "But, not because of what you just told me, Booth."

Hope again flared in his chest, and again Booth worked to smother it. Looking at her, Booth said, "Why do you want to run, Bones?"

"Because," she said softly, tears pricking at the edge of her eyes. "I… I thought I'd lost my chance, and I'm scared to let you get my hopes up."

"Your chance for what?"

Turning her head away from him, Brennan sniffled slightly, and hated herself for doing it. Quickly brushing the tears away, she said softly, "A family."

Booth took a step towards her, closing the distance between them, and pulled her towards him. Brennan stiffened slightly at the movement, but didn't resist as he pulled her close to him. Taking his hand, he tilted her face up towards his and said quietly, "You haven't. That is, if you don't want to have lost it, you haven't."

"I haven't what, Booth?" Brennan asked, blinking away the fresh tears.

"You haven't lost your chance, Bones," Booth told her softly. Leveling his intense gaze at hers, Booth said, "If you still want it, we'll make it happen."

"How?" she dared to breathe.

"I'm not quite sure," Booth told her. "But, we'll figure it out. Someway, we'll figure it out, and I'll - I'll be your family, Bones."

"Really?"

"Yeah, if that's what you want," Booth told her, bringing his hand to brush away a tear that had rolled down her cheek.

"Okay."

-TBC-