So, after demand, a part 2. I must say I didn't have this planned originally, but I'm actually pretty proud at the way it turned out, especially later on in the story.
Again, I do not own Bones or any of its characters, nor the song 'Hero of war' by Rise Against. This is not a protest against soldiers or something, rather a protest against war in general. If you want to see it as a protest at all, that is.
Enjoy!
He said, "Son,
Have you see the world?
Well, what would you say
If I said that you could?
Just carry this gun and you'll even get paid."
He froze on the spot. Brennan looked at him, unsure of what to say, but for once he didn't offer an explanation. He just stared at the man crossing the street a couple of meters away from them.
"Booth? What's wrong?" Worried, Brennan followed his gaze, settling on the bald man now back on the pavement. "Who's that man?"
He shook his head, trying to clear his head. "No one, Bones. C'mon, let's go." He turned around, gently taking a hold of Brennan's arm to get her to walk with him.
"But we were walking that way," she protested, trying to turn back around.
"Yeah, we were, Bones," he said through gritted teeth. "But let's go back to –"
"Seeley!" Too late, Booth thought, reluctantly turning around. Damn it.
"Hey... Adams, was it? Fancy bumping into you here." The man had not changed at all; still shaven bald, still with piercing blue eyes and a body like a wrestler. He tried to sound surprised at seeing the man, but he failed miserably.
"Yeah, but call me John." He stepped forward to shake Booth's hand and Booth tried not to wince at the vice-like grip.
"John. How's life treating ya?" He couldn't pretend and he tried to get his hand free as soon as he could.
"Good, good, can't complain... And who's this pretty lady by your side?" He looked at Brennan curiously, but Booth didn't miss the male glint of appreciation.
"My partner," Booth replied, emphasizing the word partner. "Temperance Brennan, from the Jeffersonian Institute."
"Hello ma'am," he said to Brennan, offering her his hand as well. Brennan took and shook it, not moving a muscle at the strong grip.
"So you're out of the Army then?" John Adams turned his attention back to Booth, his eyes trained on the younger man. "Finally gave up?"
"I've been with the FBI for a while now," Booth replied, wanting to get away as soon as he could. "But if you excuse me, we have to –" he didn't get to finish his sentence.
"Yeah, I know, always busy, you FBI people. Well, nice to have seen you again, kid!"
Booth nodded unconvincingly. "Yeah, you too. See you." He turned around to leave, not bothering to take one last look at the guy now standing behind them with a surprised look on his face.
"Booth..." Brennan struggled to keep up with Booth's large steps. "Who was that?"
"Just a guy I knew from the Army, okay?" His voice told Brennan to leave it alone, but she didn't get it. What was so bad about meeting an old colleague?
"Then why are you so upset?" she asked, her voice wavering a bit.
"I'm not upset," he said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. "Girls are upset. I'm not a girl."
"Fine, then why are you agitated?" she shot back, sarcastically emphasizing agitated.
"I just am, okay?" There was a tone of finality in his voice and Brennan decided that for once, she'd better leave it alone.
-
That night, as they sat across each other in the diner, he suddenly started talking.
"That guy recruited me for the Army."
Brennan nodded. Suddenly, she understood much more of the tense conversation that had taken place that afternoon.
"But he was only doing his job, Booth," she said.
"No, he was doing a damn good job of lying," Booth told her. He finally looked up at her. "He made it out to be some glorifying goddamn honor to shoot helpless people in the back. Like it was the most beautiful thing on earth."
She leaned forward and gently lay a hand on his, trying to give him some comfort. "Anthropologically speaking, fighting for your country or your people has always been regarded as a brave and very masculine thing to do. There's nothing wrong with continuing the tradition."
He gave her a wary smile. "I know, Bones, thanks." Then he looked back at the remnants of his food. "I just hate thinking that this guy is still telling all these kids lies about what it's like to be 'fighting in the army'," he continued, using quotation marks. "They don't know anything about what it's really like."
"Then tell me," she said softly, driven by some kind of maternal instinct, recognizing he needed to talk about things.
"What do you mean?" he said, startled.
"Share your experiences," she stated simply. The look on his face told her he'd do anything but that, so she pressed on. "Angela once told me that it's often much easier to live with things once you've shared them with someone. Bonding, I think she called it. She's often pressed me for information, too."
"Bones..." he hesitated, trying to find the right words. "You don't want to hear it."
At least he's not denying he needs to talk, Brennan thought. "There is no way for you to know what I do and do not want to hear, Booth. Besides, I have seen enough things on my trips to various war areas. You won't scare me."
Apparently, she'd said the right thing, because he brightened, even if it was only a very little bit.
"It's not like I've never talked about it at all," he told her. "I'm not that stupid."
"No, you're not stupid," Brennan said, earning a surprised look from her partner. "What? I am just stating the truth."
"Never knew you thought of me as smart, Bones," he lightly teased.
"I didn't say you were smart. But yes, in your own way you are very smart. I think it is commonly referred to as street smart."
Booth grinned for a moment before sobering.
"Mostly, you're just bored out of your mind," he started after a while, his gaze unseeing. "There's nothing to do at first, so you just sit in your tent, do your exercises, talk to people, clean your gun and shoes..." He stared ahead of him, his voice faltering slightly.
"And then you get an assignment, and you'll spend days chasing a guy you don't even know, just because those were your orders."
In the corner of his eye, he saw Brennan's eyes shining sympathetically. He was actually surprised by the way she was supporting him right now, he knew she generally wasn't the emotional type, not like Angela was.
"And just as you think being a sniper isn't that bad, that maybe all the songs and movies were just being too dramatic, you've got to finally do something and that's when it just gets worse."
She didn't know how to react, so instead she just gave his hand a little squeeze. Noticing how he suddenly seemed uncomfortable in the small diner, she dug up some dollars from her purse and paid, then pulled him upright. Together, they walked, without saying any words. She was waiting for him to talk, and he was gathering his thoughts.
"They all warn you about the dangers, but they never talk about what happens after that. When you're back in your country and you have to pick up your life again, and you have to deal with all the admiration you know you don't deserve." They had reached a bench and sat down on it, Brennan still grasping Booth's hand.
"Booth." The finality in her voice made Booth look up.
"I know you don't feel like you did anything good while you were serving the Army." She paused for a moment, trying to let the words sink in.
"But you are not a bad man. You killed those people because you had to, not because you wanted to. And there must have been a good reason if you got those assignments."
"I know they're bad people, but Bones, they had families, they had friends, children, wives. They were just trying to survive." The pain in his eyes made her lean forward, offering him a hug. He accepted, resting his head on her shoulder.
"There is a different side to each story, Booth. If you continue to ask yourself those questions, if you continue to torment yourself, it will only get worse." She was partly talking from experience, but he wouldn't have to know that. Not now.
"I know, it's just..." his voice hitched slightly. "I keep seeing their faces, you know, right before I shot them... and then their wives and children, and during those moments you can't just tell yourself you did a good thing. Because you killed a husband and a father, and to those children that man was just their father and not someone who did evil things, he was just their father and they loved him, and you took away that part of their lives."
Brennan blinked away the tears that had started to materialize. Tears were not something Booth needed right now.
Without any words, she wrapped him tighter in his arms, irrationally wishing she could take away his pain. She didn't know how to console him, but she remembered Angela once telling her that a touch could sometimes be enough. So that's what she did.
They stayed quiet like that for a long time, Booth holding on to her but not saying anything. Brennan knew he had never talked about it like this, and she knew how hard it was for him. She remembered when he had pushed on about her father, forcing her to see things she'd rather keep away. Afterwards, she had always felt better, somehow relieved to get that little piece of emotion out of her, even if it only made matters worse.
She could only hope she could have the same effect on Booth.
She walked through bullets and haze
I asked her to stop
I begged her to stay
But she pressed on
So I lifted my gun
And I fired away
I don't know anything about the Army, and even less about the US Army. So I have no idea whether the relationship between this recruiter and Booth is accurate, though I think not. Actually, the only reason I even know recruiters for the Army exist is because they did it one episode in NCIS :D. The recruiter only served as a catalyst, anyway.
Also, I realize it ends rather abruptly, but I honestly couldn't continue. Very abrupt case of writer's block, I guess.
What do you think?