Author's Note: Again thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. The attention some of you are paying to detail is really making me smile (and keeping me on my toes!) Keep the questions coming I love hearing your theories on what exactly is going on here. And a very special thanks to someonetookmyname for the always quick and efficient Beta job, (and the occasional pep talk) you are awesome girl!
Hodgins sat perched on the edge of Brennan's desk. She and Booth had decided to bring him in on their search for The Facility. Since Booth's mother had entered their lives in an inexplicable way they hadn't been able to think of much else. Not even Hodgins, who considered himself a master of all secret societies and conspiracy theories, had ever heard of this place. And so far, even with his help, they had come up empty. It was as if there was an information blackout in place.
The day before, Hodgins had traveled to Philadelphia to the funeral home that Hank said had handled Hester's arrangements. He was hoping to find information about who had prepared the body and where she was buried. Instead he had found that the funeral home had burned to the ground less than a year after Hester's supposed death.
"There's still a grave though. I found her headstone. It wouldn't be difficult to get an exhumation order under the circumstances."
Brennan considered his words for a minute before shaking her head. "Booth wants us to keep our search on the low down, and digging up his mother's grave would certainly cause unwanted attention."
"I think you mean down low."
"Does it matter?" Brennan said, her voice gruffer than she intended.
"Hey Dr. B, I'm only trying to help." Hodgins held up his hands in mock surrender.
"I apologize Dr. Hodgins. This situation is becoming very stressful for me. Booth's mother is insistent that she cannot stay with us forever. But if I can figure out what secret force has been holding her captive, we can have The Facility shut down and Hester will be able to enjoy a normal life with her family. Booth is very happy with his mother here and it isn't right that he should have to forfeit that happiness for what may very well be nothing more than a cult. I want to be able to arrange it so that he doesn't have to."
Hodgins could sense how emotional Brennan was and took a deep breath before he continued. "Okay, then if we can't exhume the body where do you think we should go from here?"
"I was thinking perhaps we should focus our efforts on George. He has obviously been with The Leader for a very long time, perhaps since the inception of The Facility. If we can find out his given name and where he came from, that may bring us closer to finding the identity of The Leader."
"George is staying at your house, right?"
"Yes, why?" Brennan perked up as she sensed Hodgins was on to something.
"Then it shouldn't be hard for you to get his DNA."
"There's only a slim chance that we will find anything in the system with which to match his DNA. He hasn't lived under his true identity in nearly forty years."
"There's still a chance though."
Brennan smiled as she continued to type; somewhat reassured that Hodgins still had hope. "I'll steal his toothbrush in the morning."
"So what are you doing now?" He leaned over to get a closer look at her computer screen.
"I just entered his alias into the FBI database. There seem to be quite a few George Santoras in the world."
"A few?" Hodgins questioned as he looked at the list of over two hundred names that had appeared on her screen.
"I can narrow it down by nationality but I'm afraid that's as far as I can go."
"Print the list, we'll split it up and see what it gets us."
"Thank you." Brennan hit the print screen key as Hodgins walked to the printer to retrieve their list.
"So what's Booth up to today? Still hanging out with his mom?"
"Yes, he had to go into the office for a while this morning but then they're spending the day together. They were just planning on staying at the house and going through the items that Booth's father left him. His mother prefers not to go around large amounts of people if she can avoid it. She says she has had enough of that since they've been traveling. Besides she insists on taking George with her if they go into public and Booth would prefer to avoid as much contact with George as he possibly can. At the house, George is content to stay in the guestroom and allow Hester some privacy with us. Though I suspect she tells him everything we discuss."
"I kind of thought Booth would want to help us dig a little more into Hester's past."
"We decided that I would do most of the investigating while he focuses on forming a bond with his mother. He thinks that given enough time, she will begin to lower her walls and that he might be able to convince her to tell us what we need to know to free her."
"Sounds like you two have a pretty good plan going."
"I'm only afraid that we're working on the false assumption that Hester desires to be freed."
Hodgins patted her on the shoulder while he handed her half of the list. "Keep the faith Dr. B. As Booth always says, 'family is everything.' And we both know that he didn't get that philosophy from his father."
"Here they are," Angela said as she swept into Brennan's office, her arms full of dresses. It was exactly one week and four days before the wedding. The dresses Angela had ordered had barely made it there on time and she still had one very important dress yet to order.
Brennan barely looked up from her computer screen. She was cross referencing the names on the list Hodgins had given her with a list of missing persons from the years immediately preceding Hester's disappearance. She hadn't moved from her chair in nearly four hours and Angela's voice wasn't even registering in her mind as she continued to track yet one more George Santora to somewhere other than her guest room.
Angela laid the dresses across the back of the couch and continued talking, "I got two of these, one for me and one for Cam, and you said you wanted to keep the ceremony simple. I thought maybe I could carry Michael and Cam could carry Christine. I got this," she held up a tiny version of the bridesmaid dress for Brennan to see, "for the baby and this adorable little black tux with a blue cummerbund for Michael."
Brennan only glanced up when she heard her daughter's name. She nodded her approval of the dresses and remerged herself in the computer.
"Okay, so yeah, here are the blue things you wanted," Angela said as she sat down on the couch.
"Blue is fine Angela."
Angela tried to get to the source of her friend's preoccupation. "How are things going with Booth's mom?"
"It's going very well."
"Then why are you so distracted?"
"I'm not. I don't care about the dresses, I'm sorry. I just want to make sure that Booth gets to keep his mom."
"She still plans on leaving after the wedding?"
"She says she has to but if I can find out the truth about where she's been then I think we can stop them from taking her back. Booth is so happy right now Ang. I want to help him be happy."
"I know one way you can help him be happy."
"Angela, Booth doesn't appreciate it when I discuss our sex life with you."
"That's not what I meant." Angela took Brennan by the hand and lifted her out of her chair. She called for Cam to join them and handed Brennan a bridal magazine. "Pick a dress for yourself. Now. This wedding will make Booth happy."
"You needed me Angela?" Cam asked as she entered the room.
"Our dresses for the wedding are here. And we're not letting Brennan leave this room until she picks one out for herself."
Cam held the light colored dress against her frame and declared that it would probably fit. "Oh, is this little dress for Christine?"
"Whom else would it be for?" Brennan asked.
Cam and Angela exchanged glances. "You have to pick out a dress Dr. Brennan."
"Anything that isn't white. White is a sign of virginity and there is proof incarnate in the form of my daughter that I no longer possess that particular quality."
"You know what, it's too late to order a dress anyway; it wouldn't get here in time for the ceremony." A look of delight crossed Angela's features as the solution that to particular problem dawned on her. "Which means that we'll just have to go out and buy one at a boutique in town."
"No, Ang, not today."
"Yes, Brennan, today. Let's go."
"I can't just leave my child here in daycare all evening."
Angela shoved a cell phone into her hand, "Call her father and tell him to pick her up. And let him know that you're going to be home late. Studley should not wait up."
It was nearly ten before Brennan was finally able to free herself from the clutches of her friends. Once they were at the store Cam had also gotten in on the wedding dress frenzy, which in turn forced Brennan to take an active role in order to maintain some sense of control over her own fashion choices. Decisions that became of increasing importance to her with each unflattering dress her friends picked for her to try. Despite her best efforts to play apathetic, she found herself sucked into their world of fabric and lace and frills.
When she arrived home: wedding dress, shoes and other accessories in hand, Booth and his mother were sitting at the kitchen table. Laughing. The box that his father had left him, filled with pictures and mementos, lay between them. Brennan smiled, for a moment wondering if she should interrupt their time together. But Booth saw her before she could decide.
"Hey Bones, the girls kept you out late, huh?"
"Yes, I am sorry. Did Christine have any difficulty in accepting the bottled breast milk?"
"The baby was fine," Booth said as he walked over to help her with her bags.
She handed him the shoe bag and the bags of hosiery and jewelry but kept him from taking the dress from her. "Angela assures me that it is bad luck for you to see my dress before the ceremony. I informed her that I do not believe in luck and she threatened to take the dress home with her. As I was afraid she would alter my dress to more properly suit her own tastes I pinky swore that I would not allow you to see it."
"You pinky swore?"
"Well I was told that was the ritual in which I was participating; I actually have no knowledge of what type of vow we exchanged."
"Are you hungry Temperance?" Hester called from where she standing by the stove.
"Mom made homemade vegetable soup."
"No thank you, the girls allowed me a short break to eat dinner. Is Christine already asleep?" Booth and Brennan walked back to join his mom as they spoke. She had sat back down at the table, placing a large bowl of the soup in front of Booth's chair.
He thanked his mother with a nod as he responded to Brennan. "Yeah, she was a little cranky at first because you weren't home but Mom sang her this song that she wrote and after that she was out like a light."
"You wrote a song for her?" The excitement that radiated from Booth as he spoke of their evening made Brennan smile.
"Just a little jingle really. I used to make them up for the boys all the time. Seeley loved them. Jared never did, they just seemed to make him more upset. He'd cry louder and louder until I finally just gave up."
"Have you contacted Jared yet?" Brennan asked.
"I tried. He and Padme are on a trip around the world." Booth punctuated his sentence with an eye roll.
"Your brother has always had a traveling soul. Even at three he'd sit for hours staring out the windows. His favorite activity was riding in the car. It never mattered where we were going, he was just content to be on the move."
"He isn't capable of keeping a job and he has zero sense of responsibility."
Brennan shot Booth a glance before she spoke. "I'm sure there'll be plenty of time to reconnect."
"Yes, I hope so."
No one in the room missed the sadness in Hester's voice as she spoke. A tense silence filled the room as they each contemplated her words until the shrill scream of an infant jarred them each out of their thoughts.
Booth stood first but Brennan quickly joined him and placed her hand on his arm. "I'll get her. You and your mother need to spend some more time together." She kissed Booth on the cheek. "I'll see you in bed. Goodnight Hester. Thank you for helping take care of Christine this evening."
"Thank you for letting me into your lives."
Brennan simply smiled as left the room to attend to her daughter.
Booth went to get his mother another cup of coffee while she read through a letter that she had written her husband, back before the lie that had torn their family apart. She was surprised to see that Edwin had sent the letters to Seeley when he died but was glad for the opportunity to remember him as the man that she fell in love with and not just as the liar he had become.
"There's my baby girl. Did you miss Mommy?" Brennan's voice came over the monitor that Booth had brought with him to the kitchen. "Grandma will have to teach Mommy that song, huh? She said that you quite enjoyed it."
"She's a good mom, Seeley. I'm glad that you have her in your life."
Booth turned the baby monitor off to give Brennan and Christine their privacy. "Yeah, she is. She reminds me of you sometimes, you know? Like the way she hates hockey but pretends to enjoy it anyway just to make me happy. You did that. You had no idea what was going on down on the ice but you'd be up in the stands cheering your lungs out. And you never missed a game."
"Yes, your father always had to tell me when to clap and when to boo."
"And she can cook too. She makes your meatloaf almost exactly like you did."
"Without the egg?" Hester grinned at the memory of her little boy, red faced as he ran screaming from the kitchen, after she had teased him about the egg looking like an eye.
"You remember."
Hester simply nodded and Booth continued to list Brennan's culinary skills. "The first Sunday we were together, she made me pancakes while I was in the shower." Booth's face lit up as he spoke about Brennan, more proof to his mother that her boy was right where he belonged.
"We had pancakes every Sunday didn't we?"
"I guess it's not all that uncommon but when I walked into the kitchen that morning and smelled the pancakes and saw her sitting at the table, it took me right back to all those Sundays mornings helping you. She has a big heart, Mom. That's what reminds me most of you. She doesn't realize it, and she doesn't do anything so that others will see it. She just does things because she feels they're right. You were like that. Remember the stray dog we chased fifteen blocks?"
"The Dalmatian? I had forgotten that. We ran that poor little thing all over the old neighborhood."
"You had seen it for days and knew that it was hungry."
"And when we finally caught the dog, he ate a very nice meal," Hester laughed.
"And then he ate Dad's shoe and he took him to the pound."
"That was the way it was with your father, wasn't it?"
"Yeah." The abrupt change in the tone of their conversation left an air of tension hanging in the room.
"After I saw that article, George used the computer to find information about you. I think he gave it to me because he thought it'd cause me to not want to come see you. But it did just the opposite. You're a good man. An honest, brave, kind hearted man. For all the hell your father and I put you through, you turned out to really be someone. I'm so proud of you."
As tears began to flow down her face, Booth took her hand in his. "You didn't put me through hell, Mom. He put both of us through it. He's the bastard who took us away from one another."
"I'm glad we're here now." Hester wiped her tears with the side of her hand.
"Me too. Maybe tomorrow Bones can take you shopping for your dress for the wedding? You've worn the same three outfits the entire time you've been here."
"My regulation outfits from The Facility."
"That must cut down on laundry."
"Among other things, yes, I suppose it does."
"But you're not there now. I can't have my mother wearing khakis to my wedding."
"It's getting late, perhaps it is time for us to go to bed," George's voice boomed from the shadows of the hallway, catching Booth and Hester off guard.
"I didn't see you standing there," Hester replied as she gathered her composure.
"I only just walked up. You must be tired Hester. It's very late."
"You can go on to sleep George, I can keep my mother company as long as she likes," Booth locked glances with the stranger he was allowing into his home, hoping that he understood the double meaning in his statement.
"Your mother is not accustomed to being awake past eleven. Are you Hester?"
Hester looked from George to her son and then back again. She opened her mouth to speak and then stopped before any words came out, an unreadable expression on her face.
"Please knock on my door and let me know before you retire for the night," George said as he turned and walked back toward the guest room.
As he left Booth released the breath that he had been holding. "Who is this guy Mom? What's his real name?"
"His name is George."
"Mom if there is anything you want to tell me. If there's anything that I need to know so that I can help you, please, just tell me."
Hester smiled and patted her son on the arm, "You don't have to be my hero Seeley. I do not need to be rescued."
"I can't let you go back there." His voice was determined but Hester Booth may have been the one other person aside from Brennan that he couldn't intimidate.
She didn't answer him. Instead she stood, picked up his now empty soup bowl and walked to the sink. She stood staring out of the window at a cherry tree on the far side of the backyard for several minutes. Then, as if she had made a silent decision, she crossed back toward Booth.
"It really is getting late Seeley." She leaned down and kissed her son on the top of the head. Then she walked off toward George's room, leaving her son sitting in the near darkness of his kitchen, wondering exactly which decision she had just made.