I'm sorry some of you are finding this sad. I'm really trying to go more humorous than sad, but I realize it sucks that Brennan is dead. This won't be a terribly long story anyhow. Thanks for reading. I hope you hang in til the end.
Booth was standing in the Jeffersonian after hours, staring at the machine before him. He was completely stumped.
"I need Cam," he said out loud.
No, we can figure this out.
"No, I can't."
What would you even tell Cam anyway?
"I don't even know."
I think she could handle the truth.
"Cam would freak," Booth laughed.
She would not.
"Yes, she would. Then they'll send me to the crazy house. We established that earlier. You're in my head. I am your host. You can't boss me around."
I'm not being bossy. I'm being rational.
"No, you're not."
Yes, I am!
"This is not helping," Booth pointed out, jabbing at the machine. He peered at it. He should have paid more attention all those times Cam did this in front of him. How stupid was he?
Just push that button.
"Which button? There's a million of them."
That one right there.
"I can't see you pointing, remember?"
The second last one on the left.
Booth glanced at it, seeing she was right. He pushed it. It emitted a rather startling noise and started grinding.
"Uh..." he paused, holding up his hands.
You broke it.
"I did not!"
Then why does it sound like it's dying?
"You told me to press that button!"
Oh sure, blame it on the dead person.
"You said...you know what? Never mind," he snapped. He gave the machine a bang with his hand, and it stopped grinding and instead made a healthier sound.
Do you solve all problems by hitting them?
Booth didn't respond. He was staring at the machine and referring to the manual and trying to figure out what the analysis was even going to mean. Once the machine was finished, Booth stared at the results.
"There's nothing here," he said out loud. He double checked the book to make sure, but Brennan's results were clean.
But...I was so sure...
"Well, apparently you were not murdered," Booth said.
I had to have been. That thing is wrong. Go get another hair sample.
"Bones, I am not making trips to the funeral home to keep trying."
But, it's wrong!
"It's not wrong," Booth gestured. He heard her growl in frustration.
Then they have used something that isn't showing up.
"I somehow doubt it," Booth said. "Bones, you had a heart attack. It does happen."
No! I was perfectly healthy and in prime physical condition. I did NOT have a heart attack! I was murdered!
"Bones..."
No. I'm not talking to you right now.
"All right," Booth sighed. He left the lab after carefully putting away any evidence that showed he had been there. As he drove, he pondered her request to visit her hospital room. She did have a point in that for any other case, they would do just that. He turned the wheel of his SUV and headed over to that direction.
Where are you going? Your apartment is the other way.
"I'm going to the hospital like you asked me to."
Why?
"Because you're right. We would investigate it for clues," Booth said. He swore he could hear her smile, but he chalked it up to the static on the radio. He arrived just before nine pm, and he headed past the nurse's station to go to Brennan's hospital room. When he got there, he realized it was his lucky day. It was empty. He turned the light on and started poking around.
"What am I looking for?" he asked.
I don't know. Something dropped?
Booth got down onto his knees and looked under the bed. He spied what looked to be a cap from something. He reached with his pen and pulled it out just as a nurse poked her head in.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm with the FBI. I'm investigating," Booth replied.
"Investigating what?"
"My partner was in this room, and I just don't buy that she had a heart attack."
"You think she was murdered?!" the nurse asked, alarmed.
"I am making no assumptions, but I'm looking for clues," Booth explained.
"I think you need to leave," the nurse said. "You don't have a warrant."
"Do I need one?"
"Excuse me? What's going on in here?" a voice asked. Booth swiveled to see the same doctor who had given him the news of Brennan's death.
"Just having a looksie," Booth said.
"For what?"
"He thinks his partner was murdered," the nurse told the doctor, wrinkling her nose. Booth scowled at her.
"That's ridiculous," the doctor snorted. "She had a heart attack and died. You're reaching, buddy."
"Don't 'buddy' me," Booth growled. "I am FBI."
"Leave now before I call the police," the doctor said calmly. Booth moved past him.
"This isn't over," he warned before going out the door. He felt his heart racing and hoped no one had seen him slip the cap into his pocket.
That was close.
"You're telling me," Booth said. They were in the parking lot now. He snapped on a glove and pulled the cap out of his pocket. "Do you recognize it?"
No.
"Me either," Booth sighed.
We should ask someone.
"How am I going to ask about it?"
I don't know. All I know is we have a clue, and we need to figure out what it is.
"All right, all right, but I'm going home now," Booth said.
What? Why?!
"I'm tired, Bones. It's almost ten at night, and in case you haven't noticed, I haven't been sleeping very well."
Fine. But we start early tomorrow.
"Fine."
...
Booth woke up the next day with a headache. He wondered if that was because Brennan was prattling around in his head and stomping on things. Was she in her body but really small like that George Shrinks cartoon kid? Or was she just there in voice form only? He didn't understand it at all. He wished he could ask someone. Tomorrow was her funeral, and he wasn't sure if he could take her comments as he watched her get buried. He knew there would be comments.
"Bones?" he asked tentatively. When she didn't answer, he presumed she was sleeping like before, so he decided to shower. It was a lot easier when she wasn't watching. He was making coffee and breakfast when his phone rang.
"Booth."
"It's Rebecca. Are you going to pick up Parker after school today?" Rebecca asked.
"I, uh, I guess. Things have been crazy, though."
"I heard about Temperance," Rebecca said. "I'm sorry."
"Thanks."
"I think Parker wants to try to cheer you up. He's sad that she's gone, but he didn't really know her so I feel he's sad because you're sad. He wants to make you feel better."
"No promises there," Booth sighed.
"I'll come grab him around 8," she promised.
"Okay."
"Do you want me to be at the funeral?"
"No, Bec, that's okay. I've got support there."
"If you change your mind..."
"I will call," he finished for her. After they hung up, he pondered their relationship. Yes, they had been recently sleeping together before he got with Cam, and she was concerned about him, but he didn't want this to become a relationship thing. She had a tendency of doing that. Booth sighed again. Even with Cam, that had ended fairly quickly. After a few nights together, they had both agreed that it was for the best they didn't continue the relationship. He still felt a little weird around her.
That is so annoying.
"Hi, Bones," he greeted.
I hate that I have no control over my sleep.
"That must be incredibly annoying."
I just said it was.
"I know. So, I have to pick up my son after school today," Booth went on. "Our investigating will have to end by 3:10."
Okay. I never really got to spend much time with your son.
"I realize that. You'd have liked him."
I will like him. I'm still here, Booth.
"In a way, yes, but he doesn't know that."
You could...
"I am NOT telling my five year old son that you're in my head."
Fine. But children have the tendency to believe those sort of things. It's part of their innocence.
"It's not happening."
How are we going to figure out what that cap is from?
"Always right to the point," Booth chuckled. "I have no idea."
Is that the plan for today? To find someone who knows?
"Yup."
...
Well that was a bust.
"Hear, hear," Booth nodded. Their day had been unsuccessful. Nobody knew what the cap was from, and Booth was getting frustrated. Now, he was waiting for Parker to come out of his homeroom.
"Dad!"
"Hey!" Booth called, picking his son up and holding him tightly. He felt his eyes burn suddenly.
"I missed you," Parker said.
"I missed you too. What did you learn today?"
"I learned to count to fifty!"
"Wow!" Booth said excitedly. "That's great, buddy."
"Can we get pizza?"
"Sure."
A boy his age should be eating healthier things than pizza.
Booth ignored her as he walked with Parker to his SUV. He buckled him in, and they went for pizza. After ordering, Parker eventually brought up Brennan.
"I'm sorry you lost your friend," he said.
"It's okay, bud. These things happen."
"Do you miss her?"
"Every day," Booth answered.
How can you miss me when I'm right here?
"I wish I had met her again."
"I do too. You guys would have been great friends."
"Can I come to the funeral?"
"No, bud. It's okay."
"I'm sad that you're sad."
"I know you are, and I think that's sweet, but I'll be okay. I promise. I'll see her again one day," Booth told him.
"In Heaven," Parker nodded.
But...I don't believe in Heaven.
Booth may have been mistaken, but he thought he caught a hint of fear in that statement. Maybe it was his imagination.
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that perhaps I will change my mind since I'm dead.
Booth only smiled to himself. She did know him fairly well. He pulled the cap out and started playing with it. His CSI buddy couldn't lift any prints off of it, so he figured there was no use in gloving up to touch it anymore. He tapped it on the table when Parker spoke again.
"Where did you get that?" he asked.
"This?" Booth countered, holding up the cap.
"Yea."
"It's from a case."
"Is it evidence?"
"Sort of. No one seems to know what it's from, though."
"It's from an insulin needle," Parker said proudly. Booth froze.
What did he just say?
"What did you say?" Booth asked. Parker pointed to it.
"There's a boy in my class who needs insulin shots, and the cap of his needle looks exactly like that."
Booth felt his body tense at this. He looked at the cap again.
"You're sure?"
"Positive, Dad. I see it every day."
But...insulin doesn't cause a heart attack. It only renders the person unconscious until they die...
"Someone is lying," Booth said quietly.
"What?" Parker asked.
"Nothing. Hey, bud, I think you just helped me get closer to solving this case."
Clever Parker! Until next time!
