A/N: Thanks to all of you for the reviews! Hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm sorry if it's a little bit of a filler chapter. It'll pick up, I promise!
Disclaimer: As if I'm Hart Hanson. Don't own 'em.
(Break)
"Dr. Brennan?" a nurse called.
Brennan looked from where she sat, hands tightly clenched in her lap. Sebastian sat at Brennan's feet, looking through a colourful children's book that Brennan had brought with her (Booth always teased her about how many "squint stuff for kids" she kept on hand, but Brennan insisted that they 'enriched the toddler's mind'.).
That morning had been hectic, to say the least. Brennan had to push all her morning plans out of the way to get Sebastian an appointment with the paediatrician at the last minute. As she herself put it, having an invaluable skill was an advantage to hold over her superiors, allowing her schedule to change at her convenience. However, try as Booth might, he couldn't get the morning off. So Brennan had left with Sebastian and the promise to call Booth immediately if the doctor so much as suspected something was wrong with their son.
Now, as Brennan picked up Sebastian and carried him down the hall, she felt her already knotted stomach tighten further, instinctively cuddling her son close to her. She was shown into a small room with two hard chairs and an exam table. Brennan sat stiffly in a chair, took out Sebastian's book and began to read it to him. She had no sooner gotten halfway through then an older man swept into the room.
"Sebastian Booth?"
Brennan nodded. The doctor came into the room and sat down on his chair. For minutes he was silent, making notes in his chart. Then he turned to Brennan, speaking in a slow, superior voice. Brennan disliked him instantly.
"So according to our records, your son was born in – " he paused briefly to check his notes "- April of2013, correct?"
Brennan nodded. The doctor peered down his nose at her.
"And you say he's been developing bruises, he's lethargic and nauseous and has had a few nosebleeds?"
Brennan confirmed this with a nod. "He's usually a very outgoing child. It worries me that he has suddenly slowed down."
The doctor sighed and closed the file.
"Ma'am, I hate to say it, but this is fairly typical behaviour for a two-year-old. Their bodies are growing so rapidly at this stage that sometimes they need to slow down for awhile to catch up with themselves. It's normal to worry, but your son's symptoms seem fairly minor. In my opinion, he's probably contracted a common strain of influenza, it's just taking it's time to clear up."
"No. You're wrong." The ferocity with which it came out even surprised Brennan.
The doctor rocked back, his eyes reflecting surprise for a few seconds. He held out his hands in a placating manner.
"Mrs. Booth – "
"It's Dr. Brennan.I know my son. I know when he's just slightly ill and when something is wrong with him. And I know something is wrong. I know something is wrong when my son wakes up with a nosebleed bad enough to cover him in blood." She paused, checking the doctor's nametag, which read Dr. Pepper.
"I have many friends in high places, Dr. Pepper. I want my son to have the best care available. And I am not leaving here until he is properly examined."
Dr. Pepper was silent for a moment, before resignation took over his features. He reached for the child, presumably to put him on the exam table, but Brennan yanked Sebastian away and set him on the table herself.
The doctor listened to the toddler's heart, checked in his ears and mouth and tested his reflexes. He slung his stethoscope around his neck and turned to Brennan.
"Aside from being a little lethargic like you mentioned, his stomach looks a little swollen," the doctor mused, pressing gently against the child's abdomen. Sebastian groaned softly but sat still. Brennan couldn't resist taking his hand and stroking it soothingly.
"Run blood tests." Brennan's voice was adamant.
Dr. Pepper sighed. "In all honestly, Dr. Brennan, a slightly distended abdomen is no cause for..."
"Run. The. Tests."
This time, he looked slightly annoyed, the product of dealing with too many overprotective mothers, Brennan guessed. Still, he got up and fetched a needle kit out of the room next door.
Brennan knelt down beside Sebastian. "Okay, baby, I know you might feel slightly unsettled at this prospect, but it's only a slight penetration of the skin, and its duration is only a few seconds. I promise."
Sebastian looked at her with steady blue eyes for a moment.
"Don' be scared, Mama."
At his words, Brennan nearly burst into tears. Her two-year-old son was not only unafraid of something that scared many children his age, but was actually comforting her. Brennan sat lightly on the table and buried her nose in his hair, breathing in the scent of blueberry baby shampoo.
(Break)
Two hours later, Brennan's cell phone rang.
"Dr. Brennan?"
"Speaking."
"This is Dr. Pepper. I'm calling about Sebastian's blood test results."
Brennan felt her stomach knot again. The doctor's voice was hesitant, as if he were forcing himself to deliver news he did not want to deliver. She reached out from where she sat on the floor and pulled Sebastian onto her lap.
"Yes?" she managed to squeak out.
A sigh could be heard over the phone.
"Dr. Brennan, the blood test results showed an...abnormally high white count."
Brennan froze, instantly running through the list of possibilities that could indicate.
"That could mean anything," she said, defensiveness creeping into her voice.
Dr. Pepper's pause was longer this time.
"Yes, it could. But, Dr. Brennan, what I'm suggesting right now is...you should bring Sebastian to the hospital. Let them run more tests."
That was as much as Brennan heard as she hung up the phone. She frantically tried to shove away the panic as it pushed at her, and she dialed a familiar number on the phone, needing to hear the voice of the one person who could always calm her down.
"Booth? It's me. I think....I think it's time to worry now."
(Break)
A/N: In the wise (slightly modified) words of the great Chandler Bing: The fifth psychiatrist caved and now they're all recommending reviewing. You heard 'em, folks. You can't make this stuff up. No need to put your mental well-being at risk.
