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 22: That Time Brennan Confessed

It had been a difficult case, particularly for Brennan. In a way, being confronted with a case where two co-workers had fallen in love with each other and then had to hide it from the rest of the world reverberated in a way that she hadn't expected it to affect her. And, now—now that she was alone, with Booth, for the very first time since she'd returned from Guatemala, and he'd been sick, well, it made her a bit nervous.

"You know, Bones, I'm.. I'm glad that, uh, we don't have any secrets between each other," Booth suddenly said, as he looked over at her.

They were laying on their stomachs on the floor of his kitchen, staring at the piping under his sink that they'd just spent the afternoon repairing. As he spoke, not for the first time since she'd been back, Brennan was struck by how tender and how open and how trusting he was in a way that she wasn't used to—in a single word: unguarded.

However, his words echoed in her head, she felt her throat go dry as she contemplated their significance. No secrets, between us. He's happy because he thinks there's no secrets between us. But, Booth—how can you know that? How can you possibly know that when it's not true. It's a lie. It's a lie, and I didn't think I realized how big a lie until this very minute.

Slowly, Brennan vaguely replied, "Yeah, I like that."

Her words brought a smile to Booth's face, one that light up his entire person. "I mean, if we have something on our mind we just, we just share it," he said with a happy nod.

God, don't do this to me, Booth. I can't… I can't deal with you, and deal with this—all of this at the same time, Brennan thought. I don't know how. I just don't. Please—

"Sure," was the only lame response she could offer. Then, quite unexpectedly, Brennan added, "Even with all of the financial and intellectual contradictions, I still… feel close to you."

She wanted to bit her tongue as hard as possible as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Again, Booth tilted his head at her and gave Brennan a soft smile that made her heart melt metaphorically.

"Right, because you know, none of that really matters, anyway," Booth replied.

Slowly, Brennan nodded. "Sometimes—looking at it through your eyes, I believe that," she said honestly.

His hand coming over to lightly rest on hers, Booth said, "There are a lot of things I wish you could see through my eyes, Bones."

"Such as?" Brennan dared to breathe.

"Such as the fact that when I look at the person laying next to me—this amazing, wonderful, smart, talented, strong, funny, incredibly sexy woman, I can't help but wonder why she can't see what I see when I look at her, the way I've been looking at her all day since she showed up at my place at 8:30 on a Saturday morning on her day off instead of going to the lab, when she's with me, indulging me, by letting me try to teach her something—"

"You're a very effective instructor, Booth," Brennan said, feeling the warmth from where his hand was covering hers feel as if it were burning her skin. "I never doubted that you're a good teacher."

"I just doubt it myself," Booth told her quietly.

"You shouldn't," Brennan said, her eyes come to meet his. "I know… I know that since I've been gone that I've missed some things, but I know things about you, Booth. And, one thing I more certain of than just about any other constant I can think of right now, is that there's no reason that you should doubt yourself—what you think or how you feel."

"Maybe," Booth said. "Maybe the old me—"

"No," Brennan insisted. "There is no metaphorical 'old Booth' or 'new Booth'."

"But, my dream—"

"I don't care about that damn dream," Brennan suddenly snapped, frustration at herself suddenly seizing upon the situation as a pressure release at the guilt Brennan was feeling and had been feeling for more than seven weeks.

Moving her hand away from his, Brennan didn't have the heart to look at the pained look on Booth's face as she squirmed out from under the sink and came to rest on her haunches in the kitchen.

Booth sighed as he too climbed out from under the sink and kicked himself into an upright position, crossing his legs to sit Indian-style in front of her.

"I'm sorry," he began slowly. "I know you don't want to hear about it again because it upset you, Bones. And, I know now that it wasn't real. We weren't married, you're not Bren, we're not… not having a child—"

Her head snapped up at his words, and as her nostrils flared slightly, Brennan said, "That's not why I don't care about the dream, Booth." She sighed, suddenly deflating as she looked away from him and said, "I don't care about it because that damn dream just reminds me of how much I screwed up, and it reminds me of how much I've been keeping of you since it happened. You said you were glad that we didn't have any secrets between the two of us, Booth. Right?"

"Yes, I did. And, I mean that, Bones," he replied.

"But, it's not true," Brennan told him. "It's not true at all."

Confusion clear on his face, Booth shook his head slowly as he said, "Why not, Bones? I've told you everything—"

"But, I haven't told you everything, Booth," Brennan said. Shaking her head, she looked away from him and bit her lips for several long minutes before she breathed. "I've been keeping things from you."

Slowly, Booth's hand crept out towards Brennan's. He rested it lightly on her thigh as he pleaded for her to meet his gaze. "Like what, Bones?"

"Like the fact that I'm so sorry I left you when I did," Brennan suddenly confessed, almost as if a damn of truth had been finally breached. Finally, she met his gaze, and Brennan felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she saw the depth of the warm emotions swirling in them as he looked at her. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left. I shouldn't have gone, but I was scared, and I didn't know what else to do. I shouldn't have left you all alone like that, and it's been killing me for almost two months, Booth. And, I missed you—"

Brennan stopped, and she bit her lip again before slowly nodding at him.

"I missed you while I was gone—so very, very much. And, now… now we're back, and I don't know how to fix any of this except by feeling this overwhelming sense of guilt that's been eating me alive, Booth," Brennan finally finished.

Moving his hand from where it lightly rested on her leg, Booth came up on his knees, and gently cupped her face. He was ecstatic when Brennan didn't pull away. Holding her gaze with his own, Booth smiled and said, "Then, just start at the beginning, Bones."

"How do I do that?" Brennan asked. "I don't know how to do that, Booth."

"It's easy," he told her, stroking her jaw with the callused skin of his thumb in a very tender movement. "Open your mouth and just start talking. Then, we'll see what comes out, and we'll deal with it, together—whatever it is, because, there's no secrets between us, remember?"

"I remember," Brennan slowly nodded.

And, so, with Booth still gently caressing her cheeks, Brennan opened her mouth and began to speak.

-TBC-