(After 'The Male in the Mail')

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooo

Puzzled, Booth had found himself drawn to the box his grandfather had given him after his father had died. The pictures from his childhood, the handmade Father's Day card, some ticket stubs to the World Series and the Purple Heart that belonged to his father crowded the box and so far, Booth had handled each item several times. Not sure why he felt it was necessary to look at the contents, he knew something was bothering him and he wasn't quite sure what it was. Something wasn't right and it was niggling at him, causing a restlessness he didn't need or want.

For the sixth time, he found himself holding the box in his hands, staring at the purple box that held the Purple Heart and it finally dawned on him what was bothering him. "This should have been buried with Edwin." Why his grandfather had kept it, Booth wasn't sure. Maybe he thought Edwin's sons would like to keep it, but Hank should have known better. Neither son wanted anything that belonged to their father. They didn't owe him anything and he didn't owe anything to them. Their ties had been cut a long time ago and there was no need to try to make a connection again.

"Yeah, but what now?"

"Who are you talking to, Booth?" Brennan stepped out of the kitchen and stared at Booth holding the memento box belonging to his father. Lately it seemed to be an obsession. He came home, ate dinner and instead of turning on the television afterwards, he retrieved the wooden box from the bookshelf, carried it to the coffee table, placed it there, opened the lid and stared at the contents. She worried that her partner wasn't letting his father go, a man he hated and hadn't seen since he was nine years old. "Would you like me to put the box in the closet?"

Closing the lid, Booth turned to stare at his partner. "No, not yet . . . I have some unfinished business with the box . . . well, the Purple Heart. It should have been buried with my father."

"I agree, but it's too late to do anything about that now." Stepping over to the couch, Brennan sat down. "You could give the medal to Parker."

"No, I have a better idea." Patting the wooden box, Booth smiled. "I'm going to take care of it so no one else has to."

Ooooooooooooooo

He talked to a friend of his and arranged to have a box made for the Purple Heart. With specific specifications about what he needed Booth was assured that it could be done. Pat was a craftsman and he took pride in his work. As he built the box, he took pictures of each major step of the project and once the box was built, he loaded the pictures on a USB drive. When he gave the box to Booth, he also gave him the drive. "You can show Parker these so he'll understand what's going on. Kids understand better when pictures are involved." Pat had two daughters and one son and he felt he was a pretty good father.

Nodding his head, Booth agreed with his friend. "Yeah, that makes sense. Thanks Pat."

"Not a problem. I liked doing it." Pat handed the box to Booth. "I know your father was a piece of shit, but he served and it was my honor to do this for you and him."

"Yeah, he served." Booth didn't have anything else to say about Edwin Joseph Booth. To an outsider, he knew it appeared he was doing this for his father but that wasn't true. This project was more for him and his son Parker. Honoring a man for his service was acceptable even if the man was a horrible human being. Booth could separate the two and take care of the soldier. It was a matter of family honor and pride.

Ooooooooooooooo

Booth had waited for Parker to come back to the States for his summer visit before he took care of the box. "Parker, we're going to my father's grave tomorrow and take care of an issue that needs to done by us."

Curious, Parker had sat next to his father and wondered what was going on. "You never talk about your father, Dad . . . What are we going to do?"

"Yeah . . . um, I went to live with my grandfather . . . Pops, when I was a kid. Jared and I both did. Pops raised us, so I guess I don't have a lot to say about my father . . . He served in Vietnam as a fighter pilot. He was good at his job, but during one mission he was shot down and he was hurt. He got a medical discharge and that was end of his military career. He uh . . . he had issues with drinking alcohol . . . Pops didn't want . . . Pops took your uncle and me in and raised us because of Dad's drinking problem." Placing his hand on the special box sitting on the coffee table, Booth cleared his throat. "This box contains my father's Purple Heart. A Purple Heart is a medal that is awarded to soldiers who get hurt while fighting for their country. This box is sealed and waterproof. The medal should have been buried with my father when he died, but it wasn't and we're going to fix that. It's important that we do this together."

"Oh." Parker still wasn't sure he understood, but since his father said it was important then it must be. "Okay."

Placing his arm around Parker's shoulders, Booth smiled. "Hey, it's going to be okay. Bones is going to go with us and when we're done, we're going to go out to lunch. You wear your suit and I'm going to wear mine. We need to look nice when we do this for my father."

"Okay, Dad."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Booth had remembered to bring a folding chair for Brennan to sit on while he and Parker took care of the box. She was easily tired now that her pregnancy was advancing and he didn't want her standing too long at the cemetery. While she watched, Booth carried a hand trowel over to the grave of Edwin Joseph Booth while Parker carried the box that held the Purple Heart. The maintenance man for the cemetery stood nearby keeping an eye on the proceedings while a friend of Booth's sat on a chair under a nearby oak tree waiting to do his part when Booth was ready.

The grave of Edwin Booth was located next to his mother and had a small American Flag next to the tombstone. Booth knelt in the middle of the grave and began to dig while Parker stood by waiting to do his part. Once the hole was deep enough, Booth pointed at the hole. "Okay, Parker, you can put the box in."

Carefully, Parker knelt next to the hole and placed the box in the center. "Like this?"

"Yes, you did that right." Staring at the box, Booth felt sad and hoped his father was happier where he was. Once the box was buried, Booth stood up and glanced at his friend sitting under the tree.

The burial complete, Sean moved his uilleann pipes into place and played "Amazing Grace." Booth had called him and had asked him if he still played the pipes and had asked him to play for his father. Sean was an old high school friend of Booth's and his own father was buried a hundred yards from where Booth's father was buried. Sean's father had been killed in a firefight in Vietnam and as the child of a KIA, he played his pipes during military funerals in the area. It was a way to honor his father and those that had served with him.

The music was haunting and made Brennan sad, but she knew that it was traditional for pipes to be played during some military funerals. The burial of the box wasn't a funeral in the true since of the word, but the box that held the Purple Heart was now with its owner and this was truly a solemn occasion. She hoped this helped Booth let his father go. He deserved to have peace in his life.

The song finished, Booth thanked Sean and placed his hand on Parker's shoulder. "Thank you for helping me, Parker. I couldn't have done this without you."

Proud he had been of help, Parker smiled at his father. "You can always count on me Dad."

"I know Parker. I know I can."

Ooooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.