Chapter 6 – Let Me be the One
The room was dark and smelled sterile. There was a beeping emanating from somewhere just out of sight, and there was a light breeze crossing his bare chest. When his fingers moved slowly, there was a feeling of scratchy material over them and lumpy mattress underneath them. Even the air tasted different – cleaner, safer somehow. All of these sensations lazily entered Booth's consciousness and helped him to solidify himself in reality. This was not the cell he had spent the last lifetime in. This was one step closer to getting back to his boy, to his Bones – the two people who had kept him going when he thought his body was going to give in on him. He had promised them that he would come back for them – though he had never said the words out loud to one. He had been so angry at her, and she at him. He wondered if the words he had thrown at her to help them both detach would keep her away now. He wondered if he would have the strength to return to the world of "normal" without her. There's just nothing for me here, anymore. So maybe this comes at a perfect time. Just…I have to get on with this. Those were the lies he had spit out to make her back off, to make it easier for him to follow orders to the hell he had found himself in. But what if she couldn't get past his anger? She said she understood that I was lying, but did she really get why I was doing it?
Booth was vaguely aware of the nurse puttering around his bed, and couldn't suppress the groan when she began to change the bandage over his eye. He still remembered the blood caked so thickly over his eyelid that he couldn't see out of it, and had briefly feared that there was permanent damage there. It frightened him enough to peel his eyes open now and take in his surroundings for the first time.
"Sir, sir can you hear me?"
Booth managed a nod. It didn't seem to send fireworks through his skull like he thought it would and he realized that whatever medicines they were pumping through the IV in his hand were worth it.
"Sir, you're at Walter Reed, you were evac'd here late last night. Your parents have been notified and were here briefly earlier today. They left you a message to let you know they were going to pick up your son and bring him here."
Booth nodded again, an image of Parker flashing through his mind. His little boy was just what he needed right now. The thought of his parents coming to make everything all right just like when he was a child began to lull him to sleep. They would take care of everything for now.
The nurse was almost out the door when Booth realized that his parents wouldn't know to get in touch with Bones.
"Ma'am?" his voice sounded weak and painful to his own ears, but it was loud enough to stop the woman.
"Yes, sir?"
A memory of a promise made in his bathroom during an otherwise awkward situation passed through his thoughts. Next time I die, I promise that I will tell you.
"Can you please have someone sent to the Jeffersonian to inform Dr. Temperance Brennan that I'm here?" A fit of coughing wracked his frame and left him gasping for air.
"Your girlfriend, sir?" the nurse asked after helping him back to a state of ease.
"My…my partner. I just, please I need her here. If she'll come."
When he next awoke, it was to the remnants of a dream of his rescue. He sent a quick prayer of thanks for the men that found him in the nick of time before realizing that his right arm was numb. That was a new sensation from the last time he had taken stock of his condition, and as he tried to move his fingers to restore feeling, he became aware that they were tangled in someone else's hand. As he once again peeled open his eyes, he found why his hand was without feeling. There was a head of auburn hair using the crook of his elbow as a pillow. The sense of relief that flowed through him was unmatched by anything since a nurse told him long ago that his baby boy had come into the world in perfect condition. In all that he had been through since leaving the nation's capital, the fact that she may have moved on without him scared him more than anything else. He wasn't sure when she had become so integral a part of his well-being, but he was sure more than ever that she had become his corner stone and didn't want to let her out of his sight ever again.
Brennan became aware of the pressure building in her right hand as she began to wake up. The pressure turned into a slight squeeze and her surroundings came back to her as she sat up quickly. "Booth?"
Booth was well aware that his partner's eyes changed colors depending on her mood. He had started to catalogue them a while back, and even through the drugged haze that he was currently enjoying he could see the color for hope and the color for fear warring with each other for dominance. It was perhaps one of the most mystical things he had ever witnessed. Or maybe it's just that you're high, Seeley-boy. Remember the lights on the ceiling that Christmas?
"Bones?" The timbre of his voice hadn't improved any since trying to talk to his nurse before, and he almost choked on the single syllable that passed through his lips.
The plastic cup of ice chips caught Brennan's eyes as she started at his voice. It had been so long since she had heard it without static or other interference, and it made the fact that he was here in front of her all the more real. He was not waiting to cross her examination table and be identified, he was no longer MIA, he was no longer out of her life. Her knight in shining FBI standard issue body armor was back with her and despite the fact that he couldn't currently protect her against a bumble bee; it put her more at ease than she had been since slamming his door that night.
The ice chips felt amazing sliding down the back of Booth's throat. "Do you know how long it's been since I've had ice?" he whispered when he felt that he could get a full sentence out. Another spoonful made its way to his lips, but this time the cold attacked him and set him off in another fit of coughing. The smell of brackish water assaulted his senses and suddenly he couldn't breathe. He was back in that room, being held under water until he finally sucked it into his lungs. Booth started to panic.
Brennan sat back and set down the cup to wait for Booth to settle again. The nurse had told her that he was suffering from an upper respiratory infection that they were monitoring in case it matured into pneumonia. She expected the coughing fit and did not think much of it until she heard the wheezing. Looking up in alarm, she saw the wide eyes that sought to lock on to hers, begging for help. Hands alternated between grasping the bed rail on the side away from Brennan and clutching at ribs that were being jostled by the fit. She saw his head fly back into the pillows and then come forward so quickly that she wondered about the state of his neck after the motion repeated. Brennan saw Booth try to roll to his left side for some relief and pulled on his right shoulder before he could complete the motion. She kept him steady on his back and allowed him to grasp her hand in his own to ground him once more. With her other hand, she pushed the call button and then grabbed for the morphine dispenser forgotten at his side. By the time the medical staff had responded to her calls, the man in front of her was lost in his own dream world again.
There was a small, huddled mass near Booth's left arm the next time he opened his eyes, and the mop of curly hair that was tangled in his fingers brought a smile to his face that only a father understood. Without looking down, the soldier knew that his little boy had climbed into the bed with him and was napping with his face smashed into Booth's hip, his back wedged against the bedrail.
"The nurses asked me to move him, but I thought he needed to stay there," Brennan whispered. She was rewarded for her decision with Booth's charm smile as he adjusted his fingers in the boy's curls.
"I'm going to head out for awhile. I promised Angela I'd let her know how you were doing, and that was before I got here. Your parents are outside making phone calls; I told them I'd stay and watch Parker until you woke up. They'll be back inside in a few minutes, I'm sure."
The hurt look on Booth's face confused Brennan, but he nodded and turned his head back to his boy. She waited a moment longer before moving to gather up her things. "I'm glad you're back, Booth."
"Then why are you going?" The words were so soft that Brennan wasn't sure whether or not it was her imagination allowing her to believe that he might need her more than as a professional partner. Booth hadn't taken his eyes off of Parker while he spoke and Brennan sat down again, waiting for him to try again. He would have to give her more than that before she would let loose.
Booth heard her sit down and took as deep a breath as his ribs would allow. The fear that tore at him when she stood had actually given him the resolve to throw his weakness into the ring so to speak, hoping that it would keep her in the room with him a minute or two longer. With her there, he knew he was safe. And with Parker here too, it felt right. There's more than one kind of family.
Just as she was about to convince herself that she had indeed imagined the question, it came again. This time, she was graced with his gaze as he silently pleaded with her to indulge him.
"I just, you should be with your family now. I came to see if you were all right, and you are, and I should get back. Visiting hours must be almost over anyway and…and I'm not…I should be…you should have…you're all right, so…"
He saved her from her rambling inadvertently as his fear of her leaving overrode his sense of protection. "I'm not."
"What?"
"I'm not all right. Not without you here. Please stay?" He fought against the painkillers that were threatening to suck him back into peaceful oblivion until she nodded and took his hand again. He smiled as he realized that she didn't really want to leave either.
"You'll be here when I wake up?"
"I will."
As he nodded off, Brennan reached for his medical chart. She could see the surface evidence of his time in captivity. She knew about the compromised lungs. But she needed to know beyond that. It was how she dealt with almost losing him. No one had told her how close it had been, she didn't have that kind of pull with the Army, but she knew from Booth's reaction that it had been too close for comfort. The folder in front of her would allow her to piece together a little more of the story. It briefly crossed her mind that Booth wouldn't want her to know the story, but maybe this time she needed to be his protector.
Exhaustion, dehydration, malnutrition – those jumped out at her right away and were dismissed as par for the course. They didn't tell her the story behind his captivity anymore than the fact that he was lying in a hospital bed did. The jagged gash above his hairline that was hidden behind the white gauze had required forty seven stitches to close after being debrided. That led her to believe that it bled heavily and for an extended period of time, and that it appeared to be the oldest of his wounds. It had reopened often before being treated as it had not healed to any extent over the time period. This wound was also most likely the source of the original concussion that he was suffering effects from. There were notes about ruling out second impact syndrome with his first neurological check, but this proved that he had suffered multiple concussions in a short period of time. There were a series of x-rays which illustrated the extent of physical torture he had endured. But perhaps the most alarming to Brennan was the results of the EKG that were still being discussed by the team of physicians overseeing Booth's care. She could see the burns on his chest, but hadn't equated them with electrocution until reading over the note to the attending to monitor his cardiac systems for signs of compromise. Here was the proof that Brennan needed that she had almost lost her partner in some God-forsaken land without her there.
Tears marred her cheeks as she cupped his jaw in the palm of her hand. Parker mumbled something in his sleep and readjusted himself into a more comfortable position. They looked so much alike in sleep that it startled the scientist. She knew that the boy was the main reason that Booth had made it back alive, but a small part of her brain, Booth would call it the back of my brain, hoped that she was part of the reason as well. She knew about Booth's line, knew it was a defense mechanism so that he wouldn't get anyone else hurt. She didn't think that it was a worthwhile line, wasn't really sure how one drew a line like that in the first place. Was it wrong to hope that this experience would help him to erase it?
Fists flew with calculated paths and the soldier blocked out the pain that every blow he was dealing was shooting through his injuries. He grabbed one of his captors around the neck and let a small smile grace his mangled face as he heard bones break. As he was overwhelmed and beaten to the ground, he heard the men from the SEAL unit sent to retrieve him. They were shouting orders and subduing insurgents outside the room, but they didn't seem to be coming any closer. He could hear them as they searched the rooms around him, and could see the fists flying as his captors took out their anger for the three men he had killed.
Or thought he had killed. One by one they rose and took their revenge on him. He could see the knives that sliced bits of skin from his arms and torso. He could hear the sound of electricity crackling. And yet no relief came. The sounds of the SEAL team died off and Booth knew that there was no chance of rescue now. They had abandoned him to his fate. He was an unnecessary risk.
When Booth awoke with a start, he wasn't sure if it was the nightmare that was trying to hold on or the hallucination of being safe trying to take over his reality. Everything seemed so real in both worlds, seemed to be the absolute and utter truth. He couldn't make himself see which was the figment of his imagination and which was real.
She noticed the catch in his breathing as his eyes darted rapidly throughout the room. He wouldn't stop to focus on any one thing and it seemed as if he was trying to take in everything at once. It was like he couldn't figure out where he was. But he had been lucid the last time they had spoken. He had been aware of his surroundings. The doctors had said that they were worried about the effects of several concussions and had tossed around the term second impact syndrome enough times to have Brennan worried about her partner's reactions now. Angela's words from long ago came rushing back to her now. I'm talking about being there for him, knowing when a simple touch is enough.
With her fingers shaking slightly, as if unsure what this would bring in terms of reactions on both her and Booth's part, Brennan rested her fingers lightly on his forehead for an instant before sliding them back through his hair. His breathing began to slow just a fraction and it gave her more confidence. She repeated the action and was rewarded with Booth's eyes settling on her. She looked deep into them and saw the uncertainty, the turmoil. It clutched at her stomach and she was thrown back to the first night after being rescued from certain death at the hands of the Gravedigger. He just woke up, he's looking around lost, he doesn't know this is real.
"I'm right here, Booth. I promise. You're safe now."
Booth's eyes slid to half mast as he relaxed, partially a realization that he was truly home, partially due to the drugs and the soft feel of Brennan's fingers soothingly running through his hair. "Of course I am," he mumbled, trying to sound as cognizant as possible. "I have my big, scary martial arts expert to watch over me."
Booth's eyes slid fully closed, but opened again at the sob that erupted from his partner. It was supposed to be a joke, but the effect of his words broke through Brennan's walls completely and she realized just how close she had come to losing him, and just how overjoyed she was to have him back. The emotions that coursed through her left her dizzy and struggling to find something solid to balance herself out with. And for the first time since his door had slammed behind her all those months ago, Brennan could see her rock - it was lying in the bed before her. He may be broken and bruised, sick and weak, but he was there for her to secure herself against the gale force winds that had been threatening to tear her apart. She barely restrained herself from throwing her body across his chest, still mindful of his healing injuries, but laid her head on his shoulder and tried to become one with him. This last escapade had been too close to being the final goodbye; and that frightened Brennan more than even her parents and Russ leaving her behind ever had.
But he was here, in the flesh. He had come back to her like he promised he always would. Maybe it is okay to have a little bit of faith. Maybe I can trust that he won't leave me behind like everyone else did. Maybe I can let him in.
Booth's eyes opened a little wider as he felt her shaking, felt the emotional turmoil that was rocking her to her core. As much as he needed the reassurance that he was safe and was going to be fine, as much as he needed to know that he wasn't going to wake up back in that hole, lost and forgotten, as much as he needed to feel that he would be able to overcome this debacle, Booth knew that her pain took precedence. It always had and it always would. Healing her pain would solidify for him that he would be all right. It gave him a sense of purpose, gave him something to strive for in every moment.
Making her feel safe meant that he was more than just someone's tool, someone's pawn. It gave him a shred of control over his own life. And that was more important to him now than it ever had been. Since his whole being was dictated by some no-name terrorist with nothing better to do than make threats and punish him for being American. Nothing else mattered at the moment than easing her strife, and he painfully wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to his chest, tugging her to him until she slid onto the thin mattress next to him. Their hearts beat as one as they took comfort in each other's embrace, realizing that no matter what they were going through, the solution could be found as long as they were partners. It was all that mattered.
The soft sounds of sleep were muffled by heart monitors and the hum of the oxygen tank in the room, but the mumbling that signified the start of a nightmare caught Angela's ear as she looked in on the center of their team. With the two cocooned in each other, it was hard to tell who was dreaming, but a slight shift and a thin hand that subconsciously stroked the other's cheek let the artist smile at what she had known for years. With the two of them together, anything could happen but they would always find their way back to each other. Laws of physics could indeed be broken and Booth could do for Brennan what Angela had never figured out how to do - he could teach her to fly.
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