Unfortunately, later never came. Before he had a chance to make that call, all hell broke loose. And the day, which had already started poorly, went further downhill.
He should have seen this coming, he thought, as he grabbed his keys and left the office. Things had been going entirely too well lately.
The news came before lunch and the day didn't end until long after sunset. It was close to midnight by the time he parked the SUV outside his place. No stars to guide him home; only inky blackness that was an accurate reflection of his mood.
Longer days were spent on cases with Bones but the emotional always drained him more than the physical ever had. It also tended to bring up memories he spent a lot of time trying not to think about.
He had managed a single text message to Bones - I'm fine. It's not me - before he shoved all thoughts of their morning together off to the side to worry about later. Up until then, that had been the dominant thing on his mind.
How he wished he could go back to the time when having a conversation with Bones was the only item on his agenda.
When he closed his eyes momentarily, all he saw was Charlie running into his office informing him there were two agents down. Involved in some sort of shootout with a suspect they were interviewing. Investigators were trying to piece together exactly what happened based on witness testimony and the agents' experiences. They were on their way to the hospital, he needed to go.
Folding his arms over the steering wheel, he dropped his forehead on them and sighed. He loved his job, but days like today reminded him of how dangerous it was.
His agents. They sat in the bullpen outside his office and asked him questions about cases. He'd seen their children at picnics and met their wives at FBI functions. Laughed with them. Given job assignments to them.
Lifting his head again, Booth pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed to go inside. Already, the interior of the car was beginning to cool. But he couldn't find the energy and snapshots of the day kept flashing in front of his eyes. He wanted to leave it all behind, outside of his apartment and feared that wasn't going to be possible.
He'd spent the afternoon at the hospital waiting with those women, annoyed with the clinical smell that reminded him of the Jeffersonian. Which made him think of Bones. He'd pulled out his phone several times while pacing back and forth before tucking it away again. He wasn't going to have a conversation about their morning by text and he didn't feel it was appropriate to ask her to come sit with him.
Instead, he watched the families and admired their ability to hold it together while they waited for news. Tried not to picture Bones standing in their place. Knowing that she had.
Then watched them fall apart when informed their loved one would survive. It would take some time, but there was no reason to believe they wouldn't make a full recovery.
Bones hadn't been given that same courtesy. National security and poor decisions had led to her receiving the opposite message. A different conversation that almost destroyed the partnership they'd formed. For a few moments, Booth indulged the fantasy of hunting down Sweets and murdering him for what he'd done to her. To them. Because it was both of them he'd hurt.
She was his emergency contact on every form in every department he could think to file one. Having stolen his heart a long time ago, she might as well have the decision making power over the rest of him too. It should have been some sort of sign that he hadn't changed the paperwork when he'd been with Hannah.
He would do everything in his power to make sure what happened to Bones once would not be repeated.
Agents were assigned to investigate this shooting. Others to find and arrest the assailant. Booth answered questions and directed what he could, but in the end it wasn't much. It wasn't his investigation and to get involved was only to get in the way.
The FBI had a strong sense of togetherness when it came to something like this. The agents and their families would be supported as long as it was required.
So he drank bad coffee and offered silent support as other agents drifted in and out during the long afternoon and evening. By the time he finally left, exhaustion was a heavy weight on his shoulders.
Forcing himself from the vehicle, the slamming of the door broke the silence of the evening. When he turned to go inside, she was standing behind him, a silent wish heard and answered.
It shouldn't have been a surprise. When he needed her, she was there. It wasn't more complicated than that. Never had been between the two of them.
Even in the darkness, he could see the understanding in her eyes. That she knew exactly what had happened that day and had been waiting for him to come home. Because of all the people he claimed as friends or family, she was the only one who fully understood how much this day would cost him.
He needed her and he loved her. He was sorry for this morning and all the painful moments that had come before. The words and emotions of the day all jumbled up in his head prevented him from forming words.
"You okay?" she asked. Reaching out a hand, she brushed it down his cheek to his shoulder and didn't stop until her fingers wrapped around his.
He was glad for the moonless night, so she couldn't clearly see just how not okay he was. "I'm not great company right now." Or the rest of the night. He knew what was coming when sleep finally took him.
"I don't expect you to be." In the darkness, neither of them raised their voices much above a whisper. Soothingly, she rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand.
"Bones." Did he want her to see the needy, messy guy he was right now? Probably not.
Did he want her to go? Definitely not.
She finished the argument before he opened his mouth to start it. "I'm staying, Booth. Go inside. I have some soup in the car."
Too tired to disagree, he dropped her hand and gave in.
His entire adult life, he'd never had someone he trusted enough to catch him when he fell. Now that he did, Booth wasn't going to send her home.
Once his gun was safely locked away, he shed clothes one piece at a time leaving a trail to the bathroom. Standing under the scalding spray, he prayed for the agents. And for the strength to eventually make it to his bed and that dreamless sleep would follow.
Pulling on sweats and a t-shirt he followed the smell of food back toward his kitchen. "I should have called you."
She looked up from putting the bowl of soup on his table and shook her head. "That wasn't necessary. You sent me a message. It was enough." His clothes had been picked up from the floor and placed over the back of a chair. The record player had been moved to a counter. He knew they needed to talk and didn't know where he'd find the energy to do it.
"I received your text." she continued. "Then, later in the afternoon, I called your office with news on the remains." She'd found a convenient excuse for the call, wanting more information on the situation. "They told me what was going on." Cajoled and threatened until she'd been informed might be a better explanation. Not sure if Booth would be proud or horrified by what she'd said, Brennan left that part out.
"Sit down," she said. Pulling out her own chair, she waited for him to join her. Not really having an appetite, he forced himself to eat, knowing she would worry if he didn't. He'd done enough of that today for both of them. "Your agents are going to be okay?"
There was a single lamp shining in the main portion of his living area. It bathed the kitchen in enough light to see his nod. "Yeah. Eventually." He ate in silence for several minutes before pushing the bowl away from him. "I wish you'd been there so you could explain exactly what the hell the doctors were talking about." Behind the wives as they'd received updates, Booth really only heard that the men would be fine. He was sure there was more to it.
When his forehead dropped into his hands, she reached out and brushed her fingers in his hair, before moving them to his neck and rubbing softly. She could feel the tension in the muscles there. "You're exhausted. Go to bed, Booth."
But he couldn't, because now that he was home, all he could think about was how the day had started. "About this morning."
"No," she said and he rolled his head to see her. "We are okay. I don't want you going to bed and worrying about that. We are okay," she repeated. "We will talk, but not now."
"I loved your gift," he whispered, needing her to know that much. "And I'm sorry for making you think otherwise. About anything you've given me."
"I know. And I'm glad you liked it," she said. Then gave him a look that warned him not to argue. "Now go get some sleep."
At his nod, she stood and retrieved his half empty bowl before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
He didn't ask if she was staying. He stumbled to his own bed and fell on top of the covers, figuring sleep wouldn't come.
Or maybe he hoped it wouldn't. Because Booth knew what would follow when it did.
Instead it dragged him down like an anchor and he was helpless against its pull.
Brennan cleaned up the kitchen and pulled a blanket from the back of the couch. And waited, knowing it was going to be a long night.
She wished she could save him from the horrors that would chase him through his sleep. But knowing she couldn't, Brennan would be waiting for him on the other side of those long dark hours.
His sleep was fitful, full of dreams and nightmares he didn't want to experience. Memories of losing buddies in combat and other friends gone too soon. One in which Brennan had taken the place of the wives, but instead of good news, she was informed of his death. Again.
Each time, when he was sure he must have cried out in his sleep, he woke enough to feel a cool hand on his skin and the soothing sound of someone saying his name. But before fully awakening, he would drift back down again, the darkness swallowing whatever questions he tried to ask.
Dim light was shining through the bedroom window when he opened his eyes. Most of it came from the streetlights outside. He'd only been asleep for a few hours, but in his dreams, he'd lived several lifetimes.
He rolled over to see her sitting in a chair. Turning it to take advantage of the watery light, she was flipping through a magazine pulled from one of his shelves. It was really too dark to see the pages, but it gave her something to do while she waited.
After the second time he'd cried out, she'd left the couch and stayed in his bedroom so she could be closer to him. Ran soothing hands along his skin and whispered his name until he was calm again.
Her voice was the one he'd heard when the dreams had been the worst. It was why he'd always been able to drift away again because she remained at his side.
At the sound of movement, she looked up and met his eyes across the room. The concern she felt for him was clear, even in the waning darkness.
His voice was gravelly with sleep when he spoke. "You stayed."
The magazine was closed gently. "You needed me. Where else would I be?"
Eyes closing as the surge of emotion swept through him, he made sure they were open when he spoke again. "I'm in love with you," he said. And because he wasn't sure when he'd get to tell her again, or how she'd react, he repeated it. "I love you."
Not knowing what he expected, it certainly wasn't her remaining seated in the chair, watching him with the same calm expression on her face.
Her heart skipped hard before settling into a normal rhythm again. Suspecting that was the emotion he felt for her was different than having him actually admit it. And while she couldn't return the words, yet, she could give him something solid to hold on to. "I'm not going to run, Booth. I'm right where I want to be. With you. Wherever the future takes us."
Pulling himself up, he looked down to see that his feet were bare. Wiggling his toes, he wondered when she'd pulled his socks off him. "Thank you for staying."
Rising, she came and sat on the edge of the bed. After a moment's hesitation, she crawled up next him and tucked herself under his shoulder, her head coming to rest on his chest.
"If you need to talk about it, I can listen," she offered.
Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her tighter against him. "I'm okay as long as you're here." In the silence they waited, together, until it was time to rise and face another day.
