Cooool. So. Look. Chapter seven.
Quickly now. Go read.
Chapter Seven - Like a Thorn in a Thumb
I woke up today with a headache that started behind my eyes, wrapped the length of my skull and met somewhere in the center of my forehead. It started with a throb and increased to a thump. It hurt to breathe. My mind was muddled with a million thoughts, but that was the most insistent one.
It hurt.
My chest felt tight and constricted, and I desperately needed to breathe in sweet oxygen to fill my screaming lungs. The curtains were pulled and the blinds were high above the reflecting windows. Outside there was darkness, sprinkled with the spirit of glowing stars and the bright city lights.
I glanced around my room and realized it was not the one I'd been in earlier. I racked my brain for the lost time in between, but found nothing but emptiness, eerily reminiscent of that voodoo incident in New Orleans. What had happened? Did something go wrong? Why am I here? These thoughts bounced around my already crowded head as I tried to figure out the "What, When, How and Why's" of my situation. I still didn't know much about...well, anything.
I felt movement at my side and something brush lightly over my skin. I felt foolish that I hadn't noticed I was not alone in this cold room. Through my half-closed eyes I saw Booth asleep, head bowed low and resting on the side of my bed. His hair was ruffled, betraying the duration his eyes had been closed for. His hand held adamantly to my own. It was warm, his whole hand fitting around my own small one. I felt an automatic response to pull my hand back, because that's what I've always done, pull back. I don't know why I still do this, after all, what is there to run from? What's pulling me back this time?
I didn't move my hand. Somehow, his touch soothed and reasured me in my moments of panic.
My gaze swept around the room until my eyes settled on the chart clipped to the side of my bed. I stretched my fingers for it, only to find myself a few agonizing centimetres short. I sighed in frustration. Shuffling forward I bit down hard on my lip as pain shot through my chest. Letting out a few wheezy breaths, I grabbed the chart with my one free hand.
The moment of truth...As my eyes scanned the page, I felt my blood run cold. Jesus Christ...Why me? I suddenly felt suffocated, claustrophobic in this hospital room. I needed to get out, stretch my legs, get away from my sickness. I yanked my hand from Booth's and started pulling out the countless wires attached to my body. The monitors started screeching loudly when the sensitive machines were alerted to my manic and sudden actions. The noise roused Booth and he jumped up, startled. He saw what I was doing and grabbed my forearms tightly, "Stop, Bones!"
I stilled under his grip, my eyes wide, disbelief clouding my face. I felt my mouth open and close with silent words as I tried to voice my hurt and confusion.
"Booth" my voice sounded strange and pathetically weak, even to my own ears. He took one look at my face and pulled me against him. I felt his strong arms wrap themselves around me, my head tucked into the crook of his neck. In that moment I felt safe. I wanted to feel like this forever. For a second I forgot why I was in Booths arms, his smell, a mixture of soap, aftershave and Booth washing over me. I screwed my face up then, remembering why I was trembling, the hot tears behind my eyes burning their way through what was left of my composure. Don't cry, don't cry , please, no tears...He felt my body shake and he tightened his grip on me, our body's holding no gaps between us. There was a lump in my throat, I couldn't breathe, couldn't find the words that conveyed the pain in my chest, and it wasn't pain from the surgery.
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Her body trembled, and I knew she was holding back her tears. My arms tightened of their own accord, bringing us closer together. I rested my cheek against her head as I slowly rocked her, just like a mother does a baby. She was tense and her breathing laboured. We stood like that for awhile longer, until what little energy she did have started to diminish and her body was held up mostly by my strong grip.
"Temperance" I said softly into her hair. She sighed in response.
Her fingers flexed around my waist, before letting go and pulling her body back. I felt the loss instantly.
She was drained, the small act of getting out of bed leaving her weak and tired. Her eyes had a far away look, staring at something I couldn't see on the wall behind me. I placed my hand on her waist and directed her back towards her bed. She complied wordlessly, her face blank and unseeing. This worried me. Temperance was not one for denial. When she was tucked into bed, I sat beside her, on the edge of her bed. I reached my hand for hers, but she moved hers before I got to it. Feeling a slight slap on the face, I sighed and tried talking her, her expression still one of vacancy.
"C'mon, Bones, talk to me, hmmm?"
She didn't say anything, she didn't even turn her head to acknowledge my words. A moment passed, of which we sat in silence, me watching her intently, and she merely blinking. I put my finger under her chin, tilting her head to face me. She wasn't looking at me, more like looking through me. "Temperance? C'mon baby, say something"
I was expecting some sort of response from her for using that endearment, but she hardly seemed to care, or notice.
I screwed up my face. "Damnit, Bones!" I knew I shouldn't of lost my temper, but it was all too much. Everything was coming to a head, and her silence only increased my frustration and the unfairness of the situation.
I got up and stood infront of the windows, my hands resting atop my head. She would snap out of this. She would get through this. She's just in shock. I repeated this over and over in my head, willing myself to calm down. But in all truth, Temperance retreating inside herself scared the shit out of me.