Disclaimer: If I owned Bones...this would NOT be a plotline.
Author's Notes: Okay. I'm not particularly proud of this one. Not that I don't think it's good, but...I'm not even sure what kind of mood I was in when I wrote it. I think I just wanted to write something dark and heavy as opposed to light and fluffy. Also, keep in mind that what's causing Booth to act this way is not important, and although I do mention what it is, what's important is the fact that he is acting this way. And he would never, EVER do this, which is why it's so OOC. But I think I wanted to see what it'd be like if he did.
It ended up making me feel very depressed. XD So I went on to write a light and fun fic, which you'll get next. :)
I did "Soulless" for this one because this OOC-Booth reminded me of Angelus. :p
SOULLESS
"Booth, please," Brennan pleaded. "Please. Just listen."
"Son of a bitch," Booth cursed. He picked up a chair and attempted to hurl it across the room, but his trembling hands made that feat almost impossible.
"Booth," Brennan pleaded. "Please. Don't…"
"How could I let this happen?" Booth muttered. "How could I…?"
"It's not your fault," said Brennan. "Booth. It's illogical to—" Booth whipped around.
"Illogical," he said in a mocking tone. "I'll bet it's irrational, too. Bones, what the hell is your problem?" She stared at him, shocked by his comment. "My son. Is in the hospital. Dying. And all you can say is that I'm being illogical?" He shook his head. "You don't know. You have no idea what it's like to love someone more than your own life. You know, it's hopeless to think that you could possibly have any people skills at all. No wonder you can't keep a man for more than two months."
"Booth, you're not thinking clearly. Please. Booth, you're scaring me." Tears began to run down her cheeks. She stepped towards him. "Just listen to me."
"No, I'm not going to listen to you, because you don't know what the hell you're talking about," snapped Booth. She stepped closer to him, knowing that there was only one thing she could do to make him be quiet.
She leaned in even closer, so that her face was inches away from his.
…And slapped him. Not too hard, but enough, she hoped, to make him come to his senses. He turned his head away momentarily, caught by surprise, but he turned back to her, his teeth gritted. Positive that she had won, Brennan opened her mouth to begin to say something. But it was her turn to be caught by surprise. Booth slapped her back—even harder. It was actually more of a punch than a slap. She stumbled back a few paces as her hand flew to her jaw. She could taste the blood inside her mouth as she crumpled to the floor. Booth simply stood where he was, watching her fall. Spitting blood out onto the tiled floor, she looked up at him. He stared at her, not seeming to register what he had just done. But after a few minutes she could see the warmth begin to creep back into his gaze.
"Bones…" he said quietly. She stood up.
"Don't you dare call me that," she said coldly. Booth stepped back. "Get out," she said. "Get out of my apartment." She pushed him to the door. "Don't come back," she said, and slammed the door behind him.
As soon as he was gone, Brennan ran to the bathroom, where she looked in the mirror. A large, angry red mark lay across her tear-stained cheek, where Booth had hit her. It still stung. She put a hand to it gently and bit her lip to keep from crying any more. Her mouth was dry, her head spinning. She tried to pick up a glass to take a drink of water, but her shaking hand was too weak to hold it correctly. She watched it fall to the floor and shatter into countless pieces. But she never heard it. All that echoed in her head were Booth's words. You have no idea what it's like to love someone more than your own life. He was wrong. She did know. And now she knew what it was like to have that one person betray her.
Still trembling, she walked from the bathroom into the kitchen, not even feeling the various glass pieces that her bare feet tread over. She didn't notice the bloody footprints that she left across the tiled floor. She tried to sit down, but upon her touch the chair tilted over and fell to the floor. Knowing that she could not stop the stream of frustrated tears that were about to fall, she sank to the floor and cried.
Booth, in a daze, stared at the solid wood door. Nothing seemed to register with him. His world spinning, he slowly slid to the carpeted floor of the hallway. He heard noises from inside Brennan's apartment. A dish fell to the floor and shattered. A chair fell over. Then the unmistakeable sound of Brennan sobbing.
Each sob he heard wrenched his heart out. He had always been there for her when she cried. He had never been the cause of her tears before. He had never, ever touched her like that before—never hurt her—and he knew that if it had been someone else who did it he would have killed them in two seconds flat. But it had been him this time.
Listening to her break down, knowing that he could never go back to her…it made him more afraid than anything he had ever experienced. He had just wrecked their friendship, their partnership, anything that had ever been between them.
His head in his shaking hands, Booth wondered only one thing. What have I done?
Okay, so. I know none of that would ever happen, but I guess I just wanted to see what it would be like if something tore them apart--not an outside force, but their own actions. Kind of sad. :p
