(The Do in the Don't)
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Bored and in pain, Jared snarled at Max who had come into the guest bedroom to check on him. "I don't need you hovering over me, okay?" The therapist had done what he could that day, but Jared felt that it had been too much. He was still in his long cast and he felt like a turtle being asked to do cat things. His leg was throbbing and he wasn't due to take a pain pill for another two hours. "Where's my pain pills? I need to take one."
His arms folded against his chest, Max studied the younger man for a few seconds and finally responded. "You're an alcoholic and you're asking about drugs . . . want to trade one addiction for another because that's what's going to happen if you use that stuff as a crutch."
"What do you know about pain?" It seemed that the world was always telling him what to do and Jared was sick of it. "I'm not a drug addict. I'm in real pain."
"I didn't say you are a drug addict, Jared." Max sighed. "What do I know about pain? Do you think no one in this world has suffered from anything besides you? That's an odd point of view considering your father just died of liver cancer . . . I know about pain. When I was a young man, before I met my wife, I helped rob a liquor store. I was desperate for money at the time and my job was a minimum wage job. It wasn't going to get me what I needed and I took a short cut or tried to. My friend Bret and I borrowed some cheap ass guns from a friend and we bought a box of bullets. We robbed a place in Zanesville, Ohio. The man that owned the store pulled a shotgun on us . . . he killed Bret and I was hit in my left arm and my left side. Bret took the brunt of most of the shotgun pellets. While the old man held his gun on me, I held Bret in my arms while he bled out and died. They took me to the hospital afterward and they picked out shot from my arm and chest . . . I still have a couple of beads under my skin on my chest. I was dumped in jail and believe me I wasn't given the care you are being given right now."
Curious, Jared pointed his finger at his care giver. "What was so important that you needed money badly enough to rob a liquor store?"
"My mother was a type 1 diabetic. She'd lost her job because of it and my Dad wasn't around." Max shook his head. "I was fifteen years old and I was trying to help support my mother. She ran out of insulin and we didn't have money to buy more . . . She died while I was in jail waiting to go on trial. A neighbor hadn't seen her for a couple of days and he asked the cops to do a welfare check. She died in bed because she didn't have any damn insulin. I screwed up and my mother died." His throat tight, Max turned and left the room. He didn't know why he had told Jared that story since he rarely talked about his mother. Her death was still so painful and he still blamed himself for her death.
Feeling like an ass, Jared slowly raised the lift chair and stood up. Shuffling down the hallway, he found the older man in the kitchen sitting next to the table. "Look, Max. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for talking the way I talked to you and I'm sorry about your mother . . . Seeley and I lost our mother when we were little kids too . . . My Dad beat the shit out of her and broke her hip when he threw her down a flight of stairs. I was three years old and Seeley was seven. Mom never came back. She ran away and left us behind . . . Don't blame yourself for your mother's death. You were a kid . . . You were just too young to help her like Seeley and I were too young to help our mother. Shit happens, but you can't shoulder that responsibility."
Surprised that Jared was being so kind, Max nodded his head. "I do blame myself, but it doesn't bring her back . . . I learned a valuable lesson at a young age. Don't rob liquor stores or anyplace else that might have guns. I made my living conning people. It wasn't the best life and it got my wife killed, I lost my kids for a while . . . My life was a train wreck I guess, so what do I know? . . . Look I don't want you taking pain pills until it's time to take them. You're an alcoholic which means you have an addictive personality. Read a book, play chess with me or we can talk. Sitting in your chair in your room by yourself isn't helping you. You're going to get through this, but you need to make sure you don't become a pill addict doing it."
"Okay, I get it." Jared pointed at the plate of cookies on the table. "Can I have some of those and a glass of milk . . . my mother used to make me cookies when I was little . . . I still miss her sometimes and sometimes I don't. I guess it's complicated."
Placing three cookies on a napkin, Max poured a glass of milk from the carton in the fridge and pointed at the doorway. "Go sit on the recliner in the living room and I'll bring this stuff. We can see what's on television." Following the younger man into the living room, Max waited until Jared was sitting down and handed him the glass and placed the napkin on Jared's lap. "My mother didn't make cookies or cake. She was a diabetic and she was tempted to eat that stuff if it was in the house . . . I didn't mind though. I didn't need the cookies, but I did need my mother."
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Her clothes were uncomfortable and she didn't know what to do about it. Well, she did, but that would require that she accept that her body had changed and she was never going to be the shape she was before Christine was born. She was well aware what pregnancy could do to the female body and she was reluctantly coming to the conclusion that she needed to buy new clothes. Her bust was bigger and her waist was thicker. She worked out as much as possible and she still hoped to reduce some of the inches on her body, but in the mean time she needed clothes that were comfortable.
One of her worries was that Booth might not understand what she was going through. He encouraged her to work out and he made special vegetarian dishes for her to make sure she was eating properly, but she feared he was expecting her to reach for something unattainable. She was still beautiful, but she was never going to have the body she had just a year ago. She just hoped that Booth understood that.
When she was younger, when she didn't have any emotional entanglements with anyone, she had come to the conclusion that love wasn't real. She thought that all emotional relationships were temporary and that anyone she became attached to would eventually leave her. She had changed her mind about love over time and she felt that she could trust Booth, but she had changed in the last few months and it was possible that he wouldn't accept those changes.
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He was worried, Brennan seemed to be unhappy and he thought it was because she was having trouble with her weight. It was taking her a while to lose the weight she had gained while she was pregnant and he wondered if she was having self-image problems. She had always seen herself as beautiful, but lately all she did was complain about her clothes and how uncomfortable she was. He told her as often as he could that she was beautiful and sexy and she meant everything to him, but she didn't seem to believe him.
He had lived with her trust issues for as long as he had known her. When they first started working together, she had told him often that love wasn't real and that relationships didn't last. It had taken her years to understand that love was a real emotion and that she could trust him to never walk away from her. Now he felt that she was judging him and worrying about his attraction towards her. As far as he was concerned, she was as beautiful as ever and a few extra inches in her bust was actually pretty sexy. He wanted her to accept that he didn't care about the changes in her, but she didn't seem to be able to. He hoped that he could find a way around the problem before it became a bigger problem, but he wasn't sure how to accomplish that.
"Hey, Bones, have I told you today that I love you and you're so beautiful?" He didn't know what else to say. He didn't want her to think he was being insincere, but she needed to know how he felt about her.
"Yes, you have told me that . . . you do know that it isn't necessary to tell me that every day." She was pulling on her blouse and trying to settle it across her shoulders, but it seemed to make the bust area tighter. "Unless you are unhappy with the way I look and you're overcompensating."
"What?" Shocked, Booth stepped back a step and wondered how she could think such a thing. "No, absolutely not. I say what I mean and I mean what I say. You're beautiful, you're sexy and I love you."
She studied his body language for a few seconds and decided she didn't know what he really thought and it was time to have a serious conversation. "There are hormonal and physiological changes that the body goes through after childbirth. It's a fascinating process, but for some men, those changes can make them lose interest in their mates."
He was being tested and he knew it. "Hey. . . Hey Bones." He moved closer and took her hands in his firm grip. "Those men don't live with you." Moving even closer, he kissed her lightly on the lips. "I knew we were meant to be together from the beginning . . .Yeah, you drove me a little crazy at first, but that was before I got to know you. You're honest, straightforward, independent, faithful, compassionate, brilliant and absolutely beautiful. I loved you for such a long time and when you agreed to have a relationship with me . . . well, you were my dream come true. I love you, Bones. I'm interested in you, in the things you do, in the things you say. I'm interested in the changes you've gone through and I have to say I love those changes. I'm not leaving you . . . I'm never leaving you. Do you understand?"
His words were spoken softly, but forcefully. The glint in his eyes, the slight smile on his lips and she knew that he meant what he was saying. "I love you too, Booth." She kissed him and she felt him respond. He held her tightly against his body and she wanted to feel more of him. She moved her hands through his hair and their kisses deepened.
A loud cough broke through and they reluctantly separated. "You do know you have a bedroom?" Max chuckled. The panting and the wild look on their faces made him realize that they had forgot that they weren't alone in the house. "I mean it's okay to have sex in the living room, but you should probably wait until Jared and I aren't here."
Embarrassed, Booth's cheeks were a mottled red. "We were just kissing."
"Uh huh." Max shook his head, unable to hide his smile. "Jared's therapist is on the way. I may hang out in the garage with them during his session. He'll be here in fifteen minutes." Chuckling, he walked over to the stairs leading down to the basement and whistled while he descended to the man cave below.
"He is such a smart ass." Booth turned back to face Brennan. "He is right. We do have a bedroom . . . want to um . . . want to have a little afternoon delight?"
Her eyes sparkling with happiness, Brennan grabbed Booth's hand and pulled him down the hallway. "First we will check on Christine and then we will partake of each other . . . I do think I will be happy when we are the only adults in this house . . . they are inhibiting our methods of love making."
"Yeah, they're cramping our style." Booth followed Brennan down the hallway and loved how she was gripping his hand so hard. "You know I'm coming. You don't have to hold my hand this hard. It's not like I want to escape or something."
"I know . . . I'm in a hurry and I don't want you to dawdle." She laughed and hurried her pace. She was looking forward to seeing her man in his natural state and she was certain that he was eager to see her in her natural state too. Her body might have changed a little, but she knew he didn't care, not the way he had responded in the living room. He couldn't hide his physical reaction towards her and that was all she needed to understand that their relationship was fine.
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