He stood there, watching her, until she stepped and took his hand in hers and lead him to the bathroom. A clinical approach to all this would be the best solution she thought to herself. Although she did not put weight on psychology, she knew booth is unconsciously following the Kübler-Ross model or in layman term the five stages of grief and right now Booth is in denial. The shower door was open and all of Booth's toiletries were laid out for him, along with his tooth brush and the fluffy warm towel. She dragged him inside and began to take off the rough fatigues off of his shoulders; as soon as he was out of them she nudged him towards the warm spray of water. She held his shampoo bottle and placed it the palm of his hand and closed his strong long fingers around it. She had to get him to shower and clean himself up even if she was standing getting all wet from the shower although she had tried to stay out of the way as much as she could. Booth automatically and without thinking got into the pace and his actions lacked any thought. It felt like a robot, mechanically designed to move around in such patterns, his hands and arms moved on their own accord and he finished his shower, brushed his teeth and got out of the bathroom with his towel around his waist, only to be met again by Brennan, who held his hand again and guided him towards his bedroom and his bed where a change of clothes was laid out for him. She knew the last thing on his mind today was what to wear for his son's funeral or the preparation for the funeral. She did not know the details, whether Rebecca had taken care of everything or whether she was waiting for Booth to decide.
While Booth was getting dressed, Brennan went around and picked up her own bag, she had come straight from the airport to Booth's place, and was grateful she had something as presentable as possible to wear. It was nothing fancy, classy or formal, just a pair of black jeans and a black dress shirt. She thought this would be good for now. Not that Booth or anyone would mind the way she looked. She was there for one reason and one only, to be Booth's support, His metaphoric light in the coming very dark days.
Half an hour and two cups of coffee and some make up to cover up the few scratches that were above her neckline, most of the hurt was done to her back, her shoulders and arms, but few marks and red itches were on her neck from Booth's teeth, stubble and nails.
Rebecca was one step ahead of Booth; being there with Parker while it happened; did not leave her much to deny. She has skipped that stage and was consumed with anger. Anger at the Doctor who hit her son, anger at Booth for being in Afghanistan, Anger at Parker for getting ready early that day, Anger at the weather and the ice , and Anger at God for taking her baby from her. The second she opened the door and found Brennan, all that anger piled inside her and was aimed at the one person in front of her, Dr Temperance Brennan.
"It is your fault, if only you were not so heartless, Booth would never have left, and Parker would be spending New Year's Eve and day with Seeley. It is your entire fault"
All that Brennan heard, was the words repeating themselves, it is all your fault, it was her fault then and it is her fault now, but it is not time nor the place to dwell into this and feel, she simply launched herself at Rebecca and held the grieving mother and repeated the same soothing words she had said to Booth. "I Know Rebecca, I know"
Booth stood there shocked at the interaction between the two women, and did not say anything until Rebecca's sobs and cries subsided; he came closer to both of them and put his hand on Rebecca's shoulder. She did not resist, she moved from Brennan's grasp and held Booth by his lapels and pushed him out the door.
"Here Booth, here, he was standing here in the snow, waiting for Drew" She told him pointing out at the patch of snow outside the house where the accident had happened. Drew had heard from Parker about this amazing breakfast, Booth and his son usually indulge in during the holidays. And he wanted to surprise the boy and make him feel better, after all the loneliness the boy had felt since his dad agreed to be shipped to Afghanistan. Although Parker had encouraged his dad to save the lives of the less fortunate, he was only a kid and wanted him around. So he waited for Drew to come home with breakfast. The weather was freezing cold and the sun had just been peeking from behind the clouds.
Brennan watched as Rebecca told Booth the whole horrifying story, she explained in detail the faint sound of the tires whooshing and slipping on ice, the car hitting the mail box and the small boy's smile as he looked at the broken open mail box that laid beside him holding a single letter addressed to him from his dad. She explained how Parker barely reached for the letter inside before nodding to his mom and closing his eyes.
Brennan, came closer, she reached for the crashed mail box and tucked the letter that was peeking out in her back pocket. She knew Booth would like to hold on to it, this was the thing his son laid eyes on before saying goodbye.
Yes material things did not have any meaning and hold no significance, but she had to do it, for the person who once made her truly believe.