I don't own, or profit from, these characters or franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Nope don't own Booth either wish I did, but I don't.

Chapter II The Impurity Of War

This chapter has plenty of angst.

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Early Friday Morning

It was still dark out side. She had woken up feeling as cold this morning as she had yesterday when she was alone. Where the hell is he? Had he changed his mind? Was he sorry they had made love? She didn't know where her sudden resolve came from, but she decided she was going to fight, for him, for her, for the. This was a new relationship for both of them but she knew if they were to survive they needed to get past this point. She didn't know what the point was, but she was going to find out today. Getting out of bed she went over to his drawer and pulled out one of his t-shirts. Pulling it over her head she went in search of him. She found him staring out the kitchen window drinking a cup of coffee. She was surprised to see him standing there naked, she somehow thought his modesty would not have allowed him too, but there he was and he was magnificent.

She stood there for a moment memorizing every muscle. Walking up to he she reached her arms around his waist she asked him why he was standing there, and got her usual answer of nothing just looking. "Booth it can't be nothing. You left the bed we were sharing and now I find you standing in your kitchen nude looking out the window drinking coffee. Am I to assume you are having second thoughts about having a sexual relationship with me?"

Turning he looked at her. Even in the low light she could see his eyes were red and in a shaky voice he said "no, of course not, and after last night how can you even compare what we shared as a sexual relationship? What we did was make love Bones, make love. I just have some things to straighten out in my head."

She knew feelings were not her forte but she knew on some instinctive level they needed to get through what ever was causing his pain together and it had to be now. Taking his hand this time it was she who returned them to the bedroom.

Smiling he thought she wanted them to make love again and he was ready. Perhaps this might keep the demons at bay at little longer. He surely didn't want them to sour what he and Bones had. It was all so new and fragile.

After removing the t-shirt she gently pushed Booth down onto the bed. She joined him and gently turned him on his side facing her holding both of his hands in hers. First she told him "Booth I will never call what we share as just a sexual relationship again. You have showed me what making love is and how much more fulfilling it can be." Before she asked her next question she wrapped her leg over his and pulled him closer, locking him into her. Then asked him again "but what is wrong?" He tried to pull away but found she was as strong as she had said and he was not able to. "Booth you have to trust that I am strong enough to take what ever is bothering you. If we don't get this out in the open it will kill what we want to be. Please believe me you have made me strong enough."

Hesitantly he thought about what he was about to tell her. The Story, the one he had never wanted to share with any one especially her. To him she was everything pure. To him the story made him ugly, not worthy of her love or anyone else's for that matter. He looked at her face again. She was there for him as she always had been for the last four years. He knew he had to believe her. The time was right, the time was now. Maybe the telling could remove the canker sore in his soul, the thing that made him so damn unworthy.

Holding on to both of her hands like a lifeline and taking a breath he began. "I have never told anyone the true story of how I became a sniper. I joined the Army to get away from my family. I couldn't take the drinking, beatings any of it anymore. My Father had beaten me for as long as I could remember. He would go out and drink then come home and start in swinging. When I was younger I thought if I was good enough or quiet enough he would leave me alone. Funny he never beat my Mother, to this day I don't know why. When Jared came along I had to start defending him too. My Father actually waited until Jared started first grade before he started in on him. As soon as my Father came home from the bar I would have to watch Jared to protect him, often we would go up to our room and hide. Every day I went to school with long sleeve shirts to hide the bruises. Sometimes I had to stay home because he had beaten me so badly I couldn't walk. Anyway as I got older I thought if I excelled in sports he could not beat me as I would be stronger than him. But Bones I found out one day that no matter how big you are when you're a child there is something in you that prevents you from hitting a parent. The summer I was sixteen it was bad. You know how teenagers can feel so invincible? Well that's how I felt; I was done with the beatings. One night my Dad started in hitting me as usual with his fists, but when I tried to challenge him it was like he just went crazy. He started hitting me with anything he could find. His fist, a beer bottle, a broom stick, even a bat. At some point I became unconscious and for the first time my Mother stepped in and got him to stop. She called my Grandpa and he came and got me right away. That was the time I told you about. The time I would have killed my self if it hadn't been for my Grandpa. It was the also summer Jared started drinking. He was only fourteen. When Jared started drinking he became Dad's damn drinking buddy, I had to get out. So I signed up for the Army. I was sent to Iraq for Operation Desert Fox. It was a typical war. You did what you were told and after you had completed your sortie you returned to base and tried to forget with your buddy's. You drank a little, gambled a little and fucked a lot. I made good friends with Teddy Parker."

He had stopped to try and get control of his voice. She knew he needed to get it all out without her interruptions so she pulled his wrists tighter into her breasts and used her leg to pull him even more firmly into her. She started to make small circles on the insides of his wrists.

"One day Teddy and I had to cover some puke ass reporters who were moving to another base. They didn't really belong there, but the brass said take them so we did. About ten miles from camp there was a small child laying in the road. She looked like she was hurt. Teddy told me to stop the jeep. He got out and walked over to her. All I remember is one minute seeing Teddy leaning over the child and the next Teddy and the child in pieces. They had begun to use children as bomb decoys. After that I didn't have much use for anything. I had been the best shot in boot camp and when a spot for a sniper came up I took it. It was a faster way to die."

His had begun to cry harder; he didn't even seem to realize she was here. "Once I became a sniper I started taking even more chances with my life. I didn't care if I lived or died. I didn't feel anything anymore. Then there was the target in Kosovo. I saw the look on that kid's face when I shot his father and I just couldn't do it any more. All the killing made me feel so dirty I thought I would never get clean. I was still in the military and they insisted I go back to Iraq for yet another target. By this time I was so full of self hatred. I wanted to die; this was as good a place as any. My head was so screwed, I was so screwed and I should have talked to someone then. If I had maybe the next part wouldn't have happened and my life would have been different. I had been waiting for my target for two days I wasn't paying attention anymore and some Iraqi's took me prisoner."

He had said enough for now. I knew how a large part of the story went from here. He had been taken prisoner and severely beaten. He needed to rest. He needed to regroup. Looking at the tattoos on his wrists I knew they must be part of this story and might be part of the healing too if I could get him to see it. "Booth," I said taking each wrist in hand and gently placing a kiss on the inside over each one. "A long time ago I looked up the meaning of the tattoos on your wrists. They are connected to this, aren't they? One means destiny and the other soul. Why did you choose them? "

Blinking like he was coming out of a storm he looked at them. "I was still in Vegas gambling and one day I was walking down a street and saw a tattoo parlor. I went in and the artist showed me these. They are there to remind me I had been in charge of my buddy's destiny and I failed. Because I failed he lost his soul. Now they continue to remind me I am still in charge of the destiny of those I love and if I fail, I will lose my soul."

Gently taking his face into my hands and kissing him with feathery light kisses I told him "It was the fortunes of war, you were doing your job. The destiny of you buddy was never in your hands. You never lost his soul because it was never yours to begin with. As for now, you and I are jointly in charge of our destiny. I will never let you loose your souls, just as you will never let me loose mine. Your destiny belongs to me and I will carry it next to my heart, just as I know you will carry mine in your heat too"

She pulled him into her body so she was holding him so tight they were skin to skin. She gently ran her fingers through his hair and rubbed circles on his back. Soon he drifted off to sleep. Watching him sleep she thought they had weathered their first hurdle. One of many to come, but it looked like they were going to make it. She fell asleep feeling as safe holding him in her arms as she felt when he held her.

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This was very angst ridden but my muse wanted to try something about Booth's tattoos being tied to his war service.

Hope you liked this promise the next one will have fluff

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