Thank you again for all the great responses to this story. While a bit extreme, I am working on using that to develop the humor, though it will even out as time goes on. I'm still working on figuring out how to let Hodgins survive his isolation with Billy with no new body art to show for it. LOL. I hope you enjoy this new chapter. Gregg
Disclaimer: I don't own, or profit from, these characters or franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Day 2, cont.
Hodgins was in Hell! There was simply no other way to put it. First, his wife has his ass thrown into the Emergency Shelter with Billy! Second, the only food is those damn liver and onion MRE's! Third, liver and onions coupled with some serious shots of Tequila don't set well in Billy's apparently sensitive digestive system! That last had produced the last two hours of the most rank flatulence that he had ever been around, and the movable screen around the simple toilet did nothing to remove the odor from the diarrhea that Billy was now suffering from. As a result of this sudden onset of the runs, a hazmat suited doctor had come in and given both of them a COVID-19 test. Apparently, Angie was on the ball on that score at least! Thank God he had been able to open the single window in the damn room and have some ventilation. He had been feverishly texting Angie begging to be allowed to hunker down in the Man Cave, or at the very least have some large aerosol cans of air freshener delivered! So far it was no go on the Man Cave, but she would work on the air freshener. He just knew that he was in for some more tattoos for this colossal failure!
"You alright back there, Billy?" he asked his sadistic father-in-law who was behind the screen practically living on the throne. A miserable sounding groan was his only reply. He got out his phone and sent a quick text to Booth:
Booth! I am in serious trouble! I think this whack job has it and I'm stuck in this sardine can with him! Get your federal ass in gear and get me out of here and this nutjob in a psych ward in isolation! He's already broken out the Tequila!
Meanwhile, Booth had used his short break from "lessons" about the virtues of an organic, Vegan diet to sneak into the Man Cave and make a phone call. There was only one way to get out of this nightmare, and that was to put his full reliance on the Man Upstairs through his representative down here, namely Mitch! Now that Mitch was a Bishop, he had to have more pull than an ordinary priest. At least Booth sure hoped so.
"Mitch?" Booth said when the line was picked up on the other end.
"Seeley!" Mitch said happily. "How's the quarantine?"
"It sucks!" Booth said, though a bit quietly as he knew that if he was overheard saying what he really felt at that moment then he, along with Junior and the Boys, would be miserable for a long time to come.
"Temperance going overboard?" Mitch surmised. It wasn't that hard of a supposition given the lack of control that Temperance would have over the overarching situation.
Booth spent a few minutes giving a short recap about what had been happening, as well as letting his friend know what calamity had befallen Hodgins. He wasn't too thrilled when Mitch spent most of the time laughing his head off.
"This isn't funny, Mitch!" he said in a heated, but low voice. "I'm going nuts, and Hodgins is stuck eating liver and onions every meal and snack! At least I'm not stuck in a 12-foot by 8-foot room with only one window and an open view toilet! Now what can I do to end this nightmare?"
"You don't," Mitch told him.
"You mean I have to suffer all this stuff for the next two weeks?" he questioned incredulously.
"Do you love Temperance?" Mitch asked calmly.
"Of course, I do! You know that!" Booth said curtly.
"I know you perversely lust over her daily, but the question is do you love her?" Mitch asked, injecting a bit of humor into this whole discussion.
"I am not a pervert!" Booth said hotly.
"Your almost daily confessions would suggest otherwise," Mitch continued teasing. He wanted Booth to let it out of his system a bit and then he could reason with the man. He knew full well what was likely happening, and he wanted Booth ready to handle it. "In fact, we could do your confessions over the phone, if you would like."
"NO!" Booth said even more stridently. "With my luck a real pervert would be listening in somehow and make some sort of recording for it to go viral. Now just what in the Hell are you getting at?"
Mitch knew that Booth was ready to listen. "Temperance survives emotionally by having an iron clad control over her environment," Mitch explained. "With this virus, she is reduced to having little to no control over what is most important to her, aside from her family. She needs to have control over something, something that she can depend on to balance her emotions and keep her from losing her stability."
Booth thought about that for a moment, and the light bulb went off in his head. It all made sense. Bones was giving her home the same regimentation that she needed in her life, and that meant everyone being on the same page. It also meant that he had been an ass, though his reaction had been legitimate.
"What about Hodgins and his mess?" Booth asked, now a bit more subdued in light of his new understanding. Granted, he would have to be sneaky and have some meat on the sly, and work on the sleeping bag and up before dawn business, but he was now in a position to appreciate how hard this was for Bones.
"Angela is scared, Seeley," Mitch told him. "Before Hodgins and his Father-in-Law will be relieved of their burden, she will need to work through the fear that this deadly virus is producing in even the strongest of people."
"Alright," Booth conceded. "I'll persevere."
"Do you want me to have a talk with Temperance?" Mitch asked.
"NO!" Booth said very quickly. He was not going to risk excommunication for anything, and conversations between Bones and Mitch did not set well with him on that score. It was irrational and nonsensical, but it was a dread he had in the pit of his stomach, nonetheless. That April Fool's joke Mitch had played on him a few years before didn't help matters, either. "Talk to you later, Mitch," he said and hung up. He tapped out a message for Hodgins and sent it.
Hodgins was sitting morosely as close to the window as he could while Billy was laying down on the bottom rack. His phone buzzed and he flipped it open (yes, he has a flip phone which Billy had given him all sorts of grief over) and checked the text. He felt like crying.
Sorry, Hodgins. You're going to have to man up and live with it. Angela's scared and you need to respect that and be a man about it. Quit your belly aching and you and Billy may get out of that sardine can and into the Man Cave. Enjoy the Liver and Onions! Booth.
He was definitely going to sick Billy on Hacker's pathetic ass!
A/N: I hope you liked this one. I wanted to bring in Father (now Bishop) Mitch, and also give an explanation that makes a bit of sense about Bones and Angela's behavior, but also pays a little bit of attention, and respect, to the fears and extreme reactions of people in the real world in the midst of the COVOD-19 pandemic. Thank you again for all the wonderful reviews and responses to this story. Gregg.