(This chapter takes place right before episode 12x10.)

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He was starting to have second thoughts about his career, but he felt trapped. Wendell had spent a small fortune getting his degrees and he'd dedicated years at the Lab as an intern completing his program. It was almost time for him to choose his topic and start working on his dissertation and he could almost hear the Doctor in front of his name, but he had come to realize that his chosen profession didn't have the pull it used to.

He was no longer in love with forensic anthropology and it terrified him.

The people in his community had invested in his education and with his job at the Jeffersonian as well as his internship, he had slowly been paying them back, but he felt that if he didn't complete his degree in forensic anthropology he'd be letting them down as well as his mother.

It ate at him and it was starting to affect his demeanor. He didn't go to work at the Lab in a cheery mood anymore. He did his work and he was still eager to learn what he could from his mentor, but the happiness he used to feel doing his job was gone and it didn't go unnoticed.

"I think Wendell is no longer interested in forensic anthropology." Brennan was sitting at the bar in their living room while Booth poured her a glass of wine. "He doesn't seem enthusiastic anymore."

Booth handed her a glass of merlot and then poured a glass of wine for himself. "He's been going through a lot. His cancer and stuff, maybe he's just more serious because of that."

She thought about it for a while as she sipped her wine and decided that she was interpreting the signs correctly. "No, I don't think so . . . he should have chosen the topic of his dissertation months ago, but he has failed to submit an idea to me. Zach did the same thing as you will recall, but Dr. Goodman had discovered that Zach didn't want to give up working at the Jeffersonian. Zach was afraid to move forward in his career because he didn't want to leave his friends behind. I have tried to ascertain if that is the problem with Wendell through subtle questioning and it would seem that that is not the problem."

Subtle questioning? Oh Boy! Booth sipped some of his wine and thought about how to proceed. "Um, so you think he doesn't want to be a forensic anthropologist?"

"I think that is correct." Brennan felt sad for Wendell. She absolutely loved her profession and Wendell was one of her favorite interns. He worked hard for his degrees just like she had and she felt more of a kindred spirit with him than her other interns. "He still works hard, but it seems like he is wading through the water."

"Treading water." Booth still found it adorable that his wife sucked at popular catch phrases. "So he doesn't want to move on in your field? He has to make a decision doesn't he? He's worked a long time for his degree . . . he won't give up will he?"

Brennan bit her lower lip and studied the glass of wine in her hand. "I don't think he will. He could still do his dissertation and get his doctorate so his time in this field isn't wasted. He could then choose a field to his liking and work to get a degree in that profession. As you know I have several degrees. No degree is a waste of time. He could use his first degree as a stepping stone to his next degree. The problem is to discern what profession he is really interested in. It needs to be something that excites him."

Another sip of his wine and Booth placed the glass down on the bar. "Do you have any ideas? Has he talked about other professions that he's interested in?" Booth was worried about his friend. The last thing he wanted Wendell to do was fail after all the hard work he'd done and after having the scare of his life. "I just don't want him to give up on a degree not after he's come this far."

"I don't either." Brennan sighed. "I will give him more time to submit an idea for his dissertation and then I will confront him. I'm on his side, Booth. He needs to know that."

"Yeah, you are." Booth was so proud of how his wife had saved Wendell's life by getting him into a clinical trial researching his virulent cancer. "I know you are."

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After Hockey practice, Booth dressed slowly waiting for Wendell to shower and dress. He wanted to talk to his friend and he thought a drink after the game would be a good time to do it. Brennan was home with the children and he had a little time before he had to be home.

Wendell noticed how slowly Booth was moving and was starting to worry that the Agent might be hurt. Dressed, he sat down on the bench next to Booth and cleared his throat. "Are you okay?"

Surprised with the question, Booth smiled to put his friend at ease. "Sure, I was just waiting for you to get dressed. I thought we could go get a beer."

Pleased that Booth wanted to hang out with him, Wendell smiled. "Sure, Andie is working late tonight so no rush to go home."

Standing, Booth leaned over and picked up his bag. "Good. I'll meet you at the Founding Fathers."

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A light crowd for a Wednesday night, Booth sat at the bar and noticed Wendell walk in. Waving at him, he motioned for his young friend to join him. Once Wendell was settled on the bar stool next to him, Booth sipped his beer while the younger man gave his order to the barman. "So Wendell, how's it going? Bones says you're getting ready to defend yourself for your doctorate. That's great."

One more person he felt that he was failing, Wendell clasped his hands on the bar and stared at his finger nails. "Yeah. I need to come up with an idea, but so far I'm drawing a blank. No hurry though."

"Um, yeah." Booth wasn't really sure how to broach the subject, but he wanted to help his friend. "Do you still want to be a forensic anthropologist?" Booth decided maybe he should just be blunt. Beating around the bush would just cause confusion. "I mean maybe you could just get this degree and then go back to school to study something else that you really love."

Surprised that Booth was making that kind of suggestion, Wendell looked up from his hands. "Um, I don't know . . . You know this cancer I had, it's only in remission. I'm not cured and . . . if I'm not going to live a long life, wouldn't be better if I worked doing a job that I'm trained for? I love working with Dr. Brennan and I owe her so much . . . I don't want to disappoint her or you or my family if I go in another direction."

"First, you may live to be an old man, you don't know." Booth knew he sounded angry, but he hated for Wendell to assume the worst. "They may find a cure some day and this remission is giving you the time to wait for it." Swallowing, Booth knew he was being too gruff. "Look don't make decisions based upon who you think you might disappoint. It's your life . . . But yeah, I get what you're trying to say. You want to be happy with what you do, but forensic anthropology may not be that thing that'll make you happy. On the other hand, you're not sure if you want to take the risk now . . . You know I loved the Army, I really did, but the longer I was in the longer I realized that I couldn't be a sniper forever. That kind of job can eat at you and after a while, it can change you into someone you might not recognize . . . I went to school while I was in the army and I got a Bachelors in Criminology. Pops, my grandfather was an MP in the Army and a policeman for the Philadelphia PD and his father was a policeman in Philadelphia too. I knew I wanted to be a cop, but I wanted more, so I worked my ass off to get what I wanted. I used the Army as a stepping stone to get what I wanted. I was a poor boy from the wrong side of the tracks and the Army helped me get something I couldn't afford on my own."

Wendell knew that Booth rarely talked about his private life and when he did, it just fascinated the intern. "So that's why you left the Army?"

A slight frown marred his brow, but Booth answered the question. "I had a lot of different reasons to leave the Army. As a sniper, I killed a lot of men and I was getting sick of that. I'm good with a rifle, very good and I did good work, but the count was piling up and it was getting too high . . . I worked on my degree hoping to get into the FBI, but if not them, I knew the CIA would take me. They made offers before I got my degree . . . I wanted to make a difference and I knew I could do that in the FBI. I had another goal too. I have a son, you know Parker and I wanted to live near him and be a father. I couldn't do that being shipped out to war zones. I wanted to make changes in my life for Parker and for me."

Wendell listened to his friend and he knew that Booth was trying to give him advice without pressing him too hard. "Yeah and you've done a great job. You and Dr. Brennan have the best solve rate on the east coast."

Booth patted his younger friend's shoulder and smiled. "We did it with the help of you and the other squints. We're a unit . . . a family and family looks out for each other. Think about your future and what might make you happy. Finish your degree and then start over. Find what makes you happy and what will help you make a difference. No one will be disappointed if you don't want to be a forensic anthropologist for the rest of your life, at least no one that cares for you will."

"Let me think about it . . . Dr. Brennan is probably going to be disappointed though." Wendell clutched his glass, filled with worry. "All that work she did to help me learn and . . . and I might turn my back on her."

"Bullshit." Booth exhaled deeply. "Wendell, Bones loves her job and she loves to teach, but she doesn't expect you do anything you don't want to do. I'm telling you she's not going to be disappointed in you . . . You know she has several degrees." Booth chuckled. "Believe me that first year I worked with Bones she let me know more times than I can count about her 20,000 degrees, but really if you think about it, she had a right to brag. It was annoying as hell, but it was the truth and she's all about the truth . . . think about it. Take your time. Find something you really love and once you get your degree go for that thing you really want to do. Do it for yourself. It's okay to think about yourself."

"Thanks, Booth." Wendell had a lot to think about, but he appreciated the help that Booth had offered. "I think I know what I'd like to really do, but I need to research it some more. I don't want to make a mistake and waste more time."

Pleased that Wendell was going to at least consider a change, Booth smiled. "You can do it, Wendell. You beat that shit cancer and you can do this."

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