A Pain That I'm Used To—Chapter 10
Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.
Author's notes: I know you all want Booth to find out about the panic attacks…and he will! Be patient. I have that particular chapter outlined in my head…I just hope I don't disappoint. Anyway, here's the next chapter. Enjoy and if you want more, press the little button and let me know! Thanks for reading. I would have posted this chapter sooner but my coworkers decided that they enjoyed my company so much the other night, they wouldn't leave me alone to write! Oh, and plus I had to actually work…
And 'elliot02uk' (Jean B.)—Uh, yeah, "lead"….errr, you know that sleep deprivation thing I mentioned. Well, it has a tendency to lead to literacy issues too (LOL). I honestly read and reread the last chapter 50 times over the course of my shift at work (the last time around 7:30 am before I drove 45 minutes home to post it) and did not catch that mistake. Please excuse the moment of stupidity…and any further moments you may catch in this chapter, also written while on a midnight shift. (wink) By the way, I thought Superman could see through everything!
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The movement of the SUV making a left turn into the Jeffersonian parking structure caused Brennan to stir. Booth watched as she slowly lifted her head and blinked her eyes several times taking in her surroundings. "What time is it?" she questioned in a sleepy voice.
"It's almost six," Booth replied as he pulled into a parking space and put the SUV in park. "Angela should have that sketch ready…"
She nodded her head in agreement and unbuckled her seatbelt. Brennan climbed out of the SUV, her legs feeling heavy. She felt as though she was wading through water and moving in slow motion. Placing the strap of her bag on her right shoulder, Brennan moved around the back of the SUV to find Booth standing in her path with a concerned look on his face.
"So, how's that headache?" His eyes bore into hers. In that moment, Brennan knew what suspects in the interrogation room with Booth felt like. The tone of his question told her that he knew she was lying.
"Um, better," she mumbled as she moved to past him.
"Want me to carry your bag?" He turned and fell in step beside her. Noticing her pace was slower than usual, he shortened his stride to stay beside her.
"No thanks, I've got it." She shook her head slightly in a vain attempt to ease the foggy feeling rolling around.
Since they left Willow Lake, Booth had silently debated whether he should confront her about her odd behavior. He knew that confronting her would likely send her running and then she would completely shut him out. Booth knew that he could live with a lot of things but Temperance Brennan cutting him out of her life was definitely not one of those things. Sooner or later, he reasoned, she would have to talk to someone and his current plan was to be the person in whom she confided. It wasn't a strategy he necessarily liked but he surmised that it was probably his best option for the time being.
Upon entering the lab, the couple encountered Angela in the hallway. "Oh hey you two, I was wondering when you would get back." She smiled brightly at them.
"Do you have the sketch ready?" Brennan inquired in a tone that she generally reserved for business associates—not her best friend.
Angela raised her eyebrows at the tone, knowing for certain that Brennan had not forgotten or forgiven her earlier comment about seeing a therapist. "It's in my office," she said as Brennan brushed past her.
"I'll be there in five minutes," Brennan threw over her shoulder as she walked toward her office.
"Well that was a cold greeting," Booth observed as he and Angela watched Brennan walk away.
Angela crossed her arms and sighed. "I imagine that's what you put up with all day."
"Not really. Today was a little better…she only tried to start an argument once. And she didn't threaten me with bodily harm." Not even when I almost kissed her, he thought happily.
"Hmm…so she saved all that attitude for me, huh? Well, don't I feel special?" She turned on her heel and stalked toward her office with Booth moving swiftly to keep up with her.
"Hey, hey…why is she upset with you?"
Angela stopped short, turning toward him. "She's not talking to anyone about anything, is she?" She let out a frustrated breath before continuing. "She's mad because I asked if she had thought about talking to someone professionally…you know, therapy, psychology and all that jazz Brennan despises."
Booth's eyebrows arched dramatically. "You didn't."
"Yes I did," she replied casually. "You know Brennan has no clue how much talking to a psychologist can help. After Kirk…," Angela stopped before the word 'died' had a chance to pass her lips. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "I spoke to someone twice a week for a few months and it helped tremendously. But Brennan won't even give it a try!"
Booth took Angela by her left arm and pulled her into her office, shutting the door behind them. "Look, I completely agree with you that she needs to talk to someone. Something major is going on with her and I can't quite figure it out but I fully intend to…" He ran a hand over his face to release some of the aggravation he felt.
"When Bones…when she was put in the foster care system, she was forced to go see a counselor…you know because of the circumstances of her parents' disappearance and Russ leaving her. When Chicago DCFS sent over the file with the information Jacob Curry provided them, they sent over everything on Bones as well."
"And?" Angela pressed.
"You and I both know that you cannot force Bones to do something she doesn't want to do." The artist vigorously nodded her agreement. "The counseling sessions…let's just say the counselor's notes did not reflect positively on her mental health. She refused to talk to him, to participate in the sessions. From what I read, the more he pressured her, the more stubborn she became."
"Yeah, that sounds familiar," Angela mumbled.
"Did she ever tell you that she was in three different foster homes in one year?"
"No," she replied in a soft tone.
"Her foster parents all said the same thing—'Temperance is a well behaved smart young woman but she refuses to participate in our family dynamic'; 'Temperance is extremely withdrawn and quiet'; etcetera, etcetera." Booth stared thoughtfully at the artist whose irritation with her best friend had subsided. Angela now wore a forlorn expression as she tried to imagine what Brennan had been through all those years ago.
"Ange, I know it's frustrating as hell when she won't talk to you. Trust me, I know, but I firmly believe that pressuring her now…not a good idea, okay?" He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "I'll take care of her, you know that."
Angela nodded. She never had any doubt that Booth would care for Brennan and ensure both her physical and mental well being. "It's just so difficult…"
"What's so difficult?" Brennan questioned as she opened the door and entered the office with Hodgins and Zach behind her.
"Selecting just the right outfit to go out clubbing," Booth quipped, attempting to alleviate Angela's anxiety and not add to Brennan's.
Brennan threw him a questioning look as Hodgins laughed. "Wow, man, I never pictured you as one of those 'Queer Eye' dudes. Although…as much as you go on and on about your suits, I probably should have."
Booth pointed a finger at him as a warning. "Treading in dangerous territory my friend."
Hodgins promptly closed his mouth and took a seat near Angela. Brennan approached her friend's work station. "Where's the sketch?"
Angela hesitated for moment as she glanced over at Booth. "Here," she answered as she picked up a sketch book and flipped the cover open.
Brennan's breath caught for a moment as she stared at the face of the man she had once believed was her grandfather. Angela had managed to capture every detail right down to which direction Jacob Curry had parted his hair.
"Dr. Brennan, we extracted a fair amount of DNA and we've got a rush on the profile results," Zach said as he shuffled nervously. "We should have the results by tomorrow afternoon and then we can plug the profile in the database."
Brennan didn't move. She stood still, her eyes never leaving Angela's rendering of Jacob Curry. She didn't know who he was but she did remember that he had been nice to her. Although he was gruff, her 'grandfather' had been as fair and kind as a grumpy elderly man could be.
"Sweetie?" Angela placed her hand on Brennan's shoulder.
Brennan cleared her throat and shrugged Angela's hand away. "Good job, as usual. Now how do we go about comparing this to mug shots in the FBI database?"
Taking Brennan's slight in stride, Angela switched on the 'Angelator' and pulled up the likeness of Jacob Curry that she had just finished placing into her computer shortly before Booth and Brennan had arrived.
"Deputy Director Cullen called and advised that I have been granted access to the FBI's facial recognition program and database until we have identified 'Mr. Curry'," she said as she typed on her keyboard. "And, we have started that process….now. If this guy is in the database, we'll find him."
"We find him, there's no telling what else we'll find," Brennan muttered to herself. Turning to face her team, Brennan squared her shoulders and exhaled a long breath. "Okay, you all have done everything you can with this case. Let's move on to the other one." She swiftly walked past them and out of the office.
Booth quickly glanced around the room and placed his hands in his pockets. "Alrighty then…" He followed Brennan's path out of the office with the squints in tow.
The group found Brennan on the platform, already in deep concentration as she studied the remains of Ronald Thompson.
Zach took his place across from Brennan at the examination table and waited patiently for any instructions she might give him. Hodgins, Angela and Booth stood nearby and watched in silence for a few minutes.
No longer able to bear the tense silence, Angela was the first to speak. "Any suspects or interesting conjecture yet?"
"Sheriff Fife is a suspect." Booth's answer held their rapt attention.
"Do you really believe he would be capable of killing the woman he claimed to love?" Brennan stood up, placing her hands in the pockets of her lab coat.
"Absolutely! Love causes people to do stupid, irrational things sometimes," he answered as he stared into her eyes. It had caused him to pick up an earring in a crime scene in New Orleans and risk his career. "That would include murder. Besides, Fife is definitely not a 'Barney'—he's very clever."
"What's with calling him 'Barney'?" Confusion creased her brow. "Is that a new slang term for calling someone stupid or inept?"
"Okay in conjunction with the Steve McQueen movie marathon we're going to have, I'm also going to throw in a few hours of 'Nick at Night'." Booth shook his head at his partner's lack of television knowledge.
Brennan opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Booth. "And before you ask 'who's Nick?', 'Nick at Night' is a channel that shows old television shows, okay?"
Brennan closed her mouth and pursed her lips in frustration. "Fine," she mumbled as she returned her attention to the remains.
"Wait, so the sheriff was in love with Katherine Thompson?" Angela glanced at Booth.
"Yeah, they were a couple in high school, reunited in college until he had to leave due to financial reasons. He went into the Army, comes back after a year and she's engaged to Ronald." Booth took a poker chip out of his pocket and started tossing it in the air and catching it. While Brennan found intelligence soothing, Booth found that tossing the chip helped calm him and focus his thoughts. "Then of course, there's the little incident where Fife tried to kiss Katherine and Ronald's mother, Elaine, saw it. Ronald pulls a shotgun on Fife as a warning and maybe…Fife decides to get even…for everything. It makes sense, plus Fife's service weapon is a 9mm."
"Yes I noticed that," Brennan said as she examined the markings on the left side of the sternum left by the bullets. "However, Ronald had a whole arsenal of guns…"
"Collection," Booth corrected.
"Whatever. The point is that Ronald had contact with gun dealers. Isn't there the possibility that his 'collection' had something to do with this?"
"I'm open to possibilities," Booth conceded. "But I think the whole family would have been taken and killed…not just Ronald and Katherine. Why leave any possible witnesses?" He continued to toss the poker chip in the air as he paced around the platform. "No…I have a feeling that this was very personal. Fife remains at the top of my list so Bones, no more sharing information with him, okay?"
"Agreed. What about Elaine Thompson?"
Booth shook his head. "Nah, maybe if Katherine had been the only killed. I could see her hiring someone for that. I would put money on Natalie having killed them before I would Elaine."
"Natalie? The daughter?" Hodgins asked. "Whoa, man…that's heavy."
"There have been cases throughout the centuries of children killing their parents." Zach continued to watch Brennan examine the markings. "Agent's Booth hypothesis is not unfounded."
"Yeah, you know…remember 'Lizzie Borden took an axe, gave her mother forty whacks'." Booth pantomimed swinging an axe.
"Hatchet," Brennan said. Booth looked over at her, still studying the markings.
"I thought you said they were shot to death," Booth said, his curiosity piqued.
"They were," she answered as she stared up at him. "A hatchet was the most likely weapon used to kill Andrew and Abigail Borden, not an axe. The size and shape of the wounds to their heads were more consistent with a hatchet. And Lizzie Borden was acquitted of the crime so that nursery rhyme is wholly inaccurate."
"How the hell do you know all of that? Better yet, why do you know all of that?" Booth's crinkled forehead conveyed his confusion.
Brennan shrugged as she moved past him and to the other set of remains. "I was passing through Fall River, Massachusetts and took a tour of their museum. The complete exhibit, not just the Borden collection, is actually quite interesting."
"It's amazing what one person finds 'interesting' another person finds 'boring' or 'horrific'," Angela commented. "Yeah, I took that tour with her. If I had been alive in that time, I would've killed someone too."
Booth grinned at her. "Anyway, I'm not even saying Natalie is a suspect, although…"
Brennan narrowed her eyes at him. "Although what?"
Tossing the poker chip in the air again, Booth paced in front of her. "She wasn't surprised that they were dead. And then she casually goes swimming while her grandmother is sitting in the living room with us crying."
"That is a little odd," Hodgins agreed.
"Pretty cold," Angela added.
Brennan straightened abruptly and stared at them. "Did you ever to stop to think that maybe, just maybe, she's a 17 year old girl dealing with the loss of her parents in the only manner she knows how? There's not a goddamn handbook outlining how to deal with something like that." She snapped the latex gloves off her hands and stormed off the platform, leaving her friends and her partner speechless.
Entering her office, Brennan flung her lab coat across the room and grabbed her bag from the couch. She saw her team and Booth staring at her as she exited the office. Spinning on her heel, Brennan walked as quickly as she could out of the building.