I can't believe I got this one up so soon! Finals procrastination does that. This one is long, but pretty meaty, so let me know what you think! Thanks to everyone for reading. Title from Snow Patrol "Hands Open"

As soon as he got into the office Monday morning, Booth told Danielle to get in contact with Dr. Lance Sweets of George Washington and fit him in whenever possible that day. Then he told her he was leaving at 4:30 that afternoon, barring a terrorist attack. Parker had absolutely not been able to sleep last night, and Booth had promised he would take him to GWUMC exactly at five, and he wasn't going to let him down. Surprised at his conviction, Danielle nodded immediately got to work.

Before he could even finish his e-mail to the director giving him a head's up on Rebecca's condition, Danielle was back, triumphantly announcing that Sweets would be by from 1:00 to 1:40. "Leaving at 4:30 means you have to skip lunch, though," she added, worriedly. As if that was an actual thing to be concerned about. "I was able to move Homeland Security to noon instead of five, and your lunch meeting with the assistant directors to seven tomorrow morning, and your seven A.M. ethics review board breakfast meeting to tomorrow's lunch." He groaned, and asked himself for probably the bazillionth time why he took the job. Oh yeah. The family thing.

He was about five minutes late to the meeting with Sweets, which was pretty good, considering. Sweets sat on one of two visitors' chairs, ankle over knee, fingers drumming enthusiastically. "Deputy Director Booth!" he exclaimed, twisting in his seat when Booth entered. "I never thought I'd see the day when you summoned me to your office to talk. Nice digs, by the way. Dr. Brennan helping you redecorate? Looks way different than it did."

He glanced around. Since Sweets' sole office visit early in his tenure, he'd added some artwork to complement the sports memorabilia and the family photos. Made it look more adult. "The art's Angela's. She would have killed me if I didn't use her stuff." He'd selected carefully, though. Some of Angela's stuff was plain freaky.

Sweets nodded. "Quite understandable. How have you been, Booth? I got the feeling that this wasn't quite a social call."

Sweets, now all of 27 (Bones kept reminding him that she was that age when they began working together, which he refused to believe), taught psychology at George Washington and independently consulted on workplace efficacy. He worked out of Foggy Bottom, came over to their place for dinner every week or so, and met Booth for lunch about twice a month. He'd tried a beard for a while, ultimately abandoning it, but his face was a little fuller and his eyes slightly less shiny. Even Booth had to admit that Sweets was a fully-grown psychologist.

He sighed, and sank into his chair. "No, it's not. Becca — Parker's mom — was diagnosed with cancer last week. Ovaries, spread to her uterus so far. It sounds pretty bad — Bones is refusing to put a finger on a time frame, and so is Cam, and I know what that means. I'm just not sure what to expect from Parker, or what we're supposed to do to help him."

Sweets leaned back. "Booth, I'm so sorry."

He shrugged. "Hey, it's not me. And telling him didn't go well so I figured I'd ask someone …"

"Right. Well. Parker's a very bright 11-year-old whose natural curiosity has only been exacerbated by the amount of time he spends with Dr. Brennan. He's at the age where cognitively he can grasp it, and his need to know means you — and Rebecca, and Dr. Brennan, and Rebecca's husband — need to answer every question that he has. You need to explain every procedure, and what's happening, to him. In situations like these, it's even more important to maintain the network of support from parents and step-parents, this means lots of communication from parents."

Booth grimaced. "We couldn't — just, you know?"

"Tell him everything's ok and you love him? No. Absolutely not."

Damn.

"You could pick up some literature, telling him what to expect. See if you can get the oncologist to sit down with him and talk over what's happening. Answer any questions he has, even if it's with an I don't know." Double damn. Bones would be happy to hear she'd been right.

"Children often get very angry at parents, or a higher power, for cancer, so let him be a little angry but also make sure he keeps communicating with all of you. Also, don't let your protective instincts prevent Parker from seeing his mother or experiencing her illness. Finally, Parker's pretty well adjusted but he's still had a lot of changes to cope with in the last couple years. His emotional stress will likely be pretty high. Make sure he still feels stable. If you think he needs it, I'll take him out for an ice cream and talk to him."

"Right. OK. Cool, Sweets."

"Wait. Not so fast. How are you doing?"

"I told you. Healthy as a horse. I'm fine."

"Booth, while she is not still your romantic partner, Rebecca has still been your primary partner in raising Parker for the last 11 years. You still have a deep, invested relationship with her. And since here even your protective nature and gun and badge can't stop bad things from happening to her or Parker — this can't be easy for you. Especially," and Sweets got this triumphant, irritating look, like he hit the jackpot, "since you never said good-bye to your mother."

"Sweets, really, I'm fine. And don't bring up my mother," he said. "Thanks for coming in, though — I'll let you know if Parker needs that ice cream."

"Wait — Booth, I, um, actually I have something to talk to you about." Suddenly, Sweets looked nervous. Really nervous.

Surprised, Booth just leaned back expectantly. This could be good.

"Well, as you know, Daisy and I — we've been together for a while. Well. We've been together, again, for a while. There was that break. But we've been together again, for two years, and we decided — well, I did propose, I'm not that much of an idiot in the romance department —"

"You and Daisy are tying the knot?"

Sweets grinned, somewhat abashedly. "Yeah. Asked her last night."

"Congratulations," Booth said. "That's fantastic." He wanted to make a joke but was honestly too happy for the kid to go through with it. Daisy, for all her quirks, was good for him. Now into her second year as a professor, she'd requested a job at the Jeff shortly after collecting her doctorate; Bones, thank God on behalf of all of them, was able to find a friend on the faculty at American to take Daisy off her hands.

"Great! I'm wicked happy you're OK with it, honestly," Sweets smiled. "Now — I actually, um, have another thing to ask you, and I'm totally expecting at least 20 jokes, so I'm just going to let you know I'm prepared. But I'd really be honored if you'd be my best man, Booth."

Booth sat back, momentarily stunned. "Sweets. Of course. But will you be able to get into a strip club for your bachelor party? Do we need to order virgin drinks?"

"See that? That, I was expecting," Sweets said. Then he grinned. "So you'll do it?"

"Of course. Just yeah, expect the usual. When's the wedding?"

"Daisy wants mid-June. Apparently nine months isn't a lot of time, but we'll see. If not, next fall."

Brent called him around two, said the surgery had gone well and Becca was coming to. He called the school and told Parker the news, but Park was still nervous and upset when he showed up at 5:02 instead of 5:00.

"Dad, you're late," he said crossly, settling into the front seat.

"Sorry buddy —there was an issue with white collar in Chicago," he said.

"Of course. White collar in Chicago, sorry, I forgot about them," Parker snapped.

"Hooo. Park-o. Really — I'm sorry. It just happened, alright? How was school?"

Parker shrugged. "Decent. Look, I got another A in English. 96 on my essay — I just forgot a couple punctuation things." He rolled his eyes. Details like commas bored Parker.

"That's awesome, Parker. Your mom will be pretty happy to see that." He remembered, then, his conversation with Bones about Sidwell or the other private schools. "Do you like school, Park?"

He shrugged again. "I mean, it's school, Dad."

"Yeah, I know, but do you like it? Are your classes hard enough?"

He sighed, and his voice took on Bones' I'm-smarter-than-you-are-and-I'm-doing-you-a-favor-by-explaining-this-easy-concept tone. "It's class, Dad. They're not supposed to be hard, and if they are, I just call Bones. I have history homework tonight. Do you think she knows anything about the Knights Templar?"

They were at the hospital by this point, and Parker was out of the car before the brake was on. Seeley could barely convince him to stop at the gift shop to pick up irises for Rebecca.

"Mom!" he shouted, relieved, as they knocked on her door. Rebecca was resting, her eyes closed, and Brent was sitting in a chair next to her, flipping through a car magazine. Parker stopped at the foot of her bed and looked at her uncertainly.

Becca stirred and slowly pulled herself upright. She grimaced as she stretched her abdominal muscles. "Hey, sweetie. Can I get a hug?"

"Will I — "

"You could never hurt me. Besides, they pumped me full of the good drugs. Now get over here." She looked high as a kite in March, though he didn't think Parker could tell.

"I brought flowers. Dad has 'em," he said, moving to hug her tightly.

"Thank you, Parker. That was incredibly thoughtful. They're very pretty."

"Irises are your favorite," he said.

Booth busied himself finding a vase and settling in the flowers. He gave Becca a peck on the cheek and said, "Looking gorgeous, Bec."

"You're a good liar, Seeley," she murmured weakly. "What did you do in school today, Park?"

"I — we started a new unit on the Crusades. I have to do a project on the Knights Templar. That sounds like something Bones would know a lot about, so I think I'll ask her for help. And we had a math test. It was easy — just fractions and mixed numbers and long division. And I aced my English paper. And we're still doing bones in science class. Mr. Abernathy is finally going to call Bones to see if the class can go to the lab."

"Did you ask Temperance if they could come?" Becca settled back into the covers. Her eyes were bug-big in her head, and her skin looked waxy. She was shivering slightly, which Brent also noticed, but neither man wanted to move and worry Parker.

He nodded. "Yeah. I asked her last night. She's cool with it. I want to go to limbo. Dad, do you think Bones will let us go down to limbo?"

"If you don't call it limbo when you ask, maybe," Seeley said.

"Mr. and Mrs. Knowles, we — oh. Hello," a doctor said, popping in. A second doctor soon followed.

"Dr. Nixon, Dr. Hakim, this is my son, Parker Booth, and his father, Seeley," Becca said. "Seeley, Park, this is Dr. Nixon, the oncologist, and Dr. Hakim, the surgeon."

"Nice to meet you," Dr. Hakim, dressed in scrubs, said, extending his hand. Dr. Nixon soon followed suit. "How are you feeling, Mrs. Knowles?"'

"Like someone just ripped out my insides," she said dryly. Seeing Parker's horrified face, she said, "I didn't mean that literally, honey. How did everything turn out?"

Both doctors looked hesitantly at Seeley and Parker. "Parker, can you go to the gift shop and get me a magazine? I'd like Allure," Becca said, not taking her eyes off the doctors.

"But Mom! You said I could know stuff."

"I'll tell you the stuff later, OK? Don't argue, please. This is doctor stuff first. Brent, please grab my bag."

Parker sighed aggrievedly, argued back in a daring tone, "I'll just Google it, anyways, you know."

The three parents exchanged looks. "We really shouldn't've gotten him that laptop," Brent muttered.

"You didn't buy it for me, Dad'n'Bones did," Parker said exasperatedly.

"Park! Apologize to Brent," Seeley said quickly.

Parker gave him Bones' best stumped look. "Why? You did. It was my last birthday present."

"It was disrespectful."

"Why? It was true."

"That's not an excuse, and you know that. Apologize."

"Why was it wrong?"

"Okay! You know what, Parker? Stay, leave, I don't care. Up to you." Becca said, grinding her teeth.

"Okay. I will," Parker said, though he looked a little perturbed as to why his mother looked so irritated. They'd have to have that speech about manners and tact. It was moments like that having Bones as a co-parent was so difficult.

"Seeley's fine," Becca said when the doctors continued to look at Booth warily. Booth glowered in return. "Besides, he has a gun, so it's in everyone's best interest that he knows what's going on."

Booth sighed. "Look, I'm not a serial killer; I work for the FBI. But yes, we'd appreciate it if you would… talk." He reached for his cell phone and flipped it completely off, noticing that he had missed two calls from his brother. Weird.

The two doctors sighed, and then Dr. Hakim spoke. "We performed a laparotomy today, searching your abdominal cavity for cancerous growths. There — were several, in the ovaries, fallopian tubes, uterus, colon, bladder, lymph nodes, liver, and lungs. We were able to resect most of them. A few, especially in your ovaries, fallopian tubes, uterus, and lymph nodes, were quite large, and we removed the entire organs in those cases. Given how far the cancer had metastasized, Dr. Nixon is prepared to diagnose the cancer as Stage IV." Shit. Booth knew there were four stages.

"What's that mean?" Brent asked.

"It's not an ideal starting point," Dr. Nixon hedged.

"What's that mean?" Seeley asked, adding an edge to the question.

"A few things. One, you must know that this cancer is pretty aggressive. To get from an undetectable level seven months ago to this level is highly unusual. Should chemotherapy be successful, there's a high risk of recurrence. Five-year rates hover around 17 percent for this type." Both Brent and Seeley spun their heads to look at Becca, who visibly paled and blanched, before biting her lip, setting her jaw and nodding. The doctor continued. "It's impossible, however, to determine your individual prognosis without seeing how you respond to treatment, so I wouldn't start thinking about that. It doesn't mean anything yet."

Becca looked significantly more composed than he would have expected, sitting up a bit straighter with a glint in her eye. "We need to pursue a similarly aggressive path of treatment — I'm recommending six three-week rounds of chemotherapy, followed by radiation," the good doctor continued. "Each round will consist of three days in chemotherapy and four days off to eradicate the tumor cells. We need to wait about two weeks to start. We'll reevaluate after every round. Right now, I would like to start HRT to combat the hormonal fluctuations caused by the removal of your ovaries. I'd like to keep you in the hospital until Thursday or so."

"Perfect. Just in time for my sister to show up."

"Your sister's coming? Which one?" Seeley asked.

"Both," Becca smirked. "Lisa arrives Thursday and Sarah's coming Friday. Don't get too excited."

"Can't wait." Both of her sisters disliked him. Brent didn't look happy about the development either. He didn't blame the guy — Lisa was totally overbearing and Sarah was borderline a shrew.

"So wait — when's Mom going to start feeling better? It sounds like you got a lot of the bad stuff out," Parker asked.

"We're not sure yet," Dr. Nixon said. "It's too early to say. But your mom's a fighter, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Parker said, but he still looked concerned. Booth knew he wasn't quite buying all of it.

"We'll be back tomorrow to go into the treatment more in depth, once these drugs have completely worn off," Dr. Nixon said. "Does 10 a.m. sound good?"

"I'll be here," Becca said. "Is there any chance that we could have a conference or something on Friday afternoon? We can talk everything out, Dr. Nixon, between you and me and Brent tomorrow, but I'd like everything laid out for everyone involved — my sisters, Brent, Seeley. Even Temperance, Seeley. If she wants to." That was another good thing about Becca; that she got things. Including that Booth would need to be included and that Bones should be as well.

"She's in New York Friday. I can't get off work until at least six, not with the time I've been taking off."

"I've got Saturday rounds, if that would work better for all involved," Dr. Nixon offered. "Just call my office."

"Thank you. I think we would really appreciate that," Becca said. The doctors left, and she said, "OK, Parker, your turn."

"What'd they mean?" He had that angry, protective Booth look on his face.

"It's — not great, honey. The cancer's in a lot of places. And right now my body's very tired from the surgery. So in two weeks, we're going to start chemotherapy."

"And that's going to kill the rest of the cancer?"

"It'll try. It's a drug, I sit in a chair and it comes in an IV. It'll make me pretty sick, though, like we talked about."

"And they don't know how long this'll take?"

"No, baby, not yet. They needed to do the surgery to see if they could tell, and now it looks a little worse, so they need to do some more stuff. And now," she said, "I need to talk to your dad. So how about you and Brent go get a snack, because I bet you're starving." Parker nodded mutely and went off to the cafeteria, looking only mildly scarred for life.

Booth was about to open his mouth — ask her how she was, because she hadn't looked good since the doctor gave the percentages — when Becca held up a hand. "Save it, Seeley. And don't even try to apologize for Parker's comment; we both know that's mostly him being eleven," she sighed and shook her head, and he wondered if he should feel so defensive. "I just wanted to get things with Parker worked out peacefully without him here."

Booth nodded. "What about dropping him off at your place after practice on Friday? We can get back on his regular schedule after that. I talked to Sweets —"

"You talked to your teenaged life guru about Parker?" she interrupted.

He looked at her levelly. "I'm worried about my kid, Bec. And you, you know."

"I know. I'm worried about a lot right now." She allowed a tear to escape, and shook her head bleakly.

"Hey, now. You heard the good doctor — those numbers don't mean anything right now." He reached for a tissue and handed it to her, tentatively rubbing her shoulder.

"They do, actually. Every single one of those women in that eighty percent that died probably heard the same thing. But right now I'm tired and actually in a lot of pain and on a lot of drugs, Seeley, and I just really need to focus on what I have to say right now."

"What do you need to say, Becca?"

"First — Parker. Like you said, back to normal."

"That sounds good," he said. "Sweets said try to keep things as normal as possible."

"That's what the doctors said too. The second thing is — please don't hover."

"What?"

"Hover. You know, threaten to shoot doctors, run background checks on nurses, any of your typical, misguided white-knight stunts. I get that you need to be involved for Parker's sake, and that you're a very good father, but you're kind of intimidating. Especially with the gun and the badge and the threats about background checks, and I want to make sure you don't loiter. Or feel responsible, or obligated to do anything, really, beyond being there for Parker. This … this isn't yours, ok? I really need you to stay out."

He wanted to argue, to take charge and tell her how wrong and stubborn she was, but then he looked at her, shriveled and sick and shivery, and knew this was non-negotiable. "Wherever you want me — or don't want me — I'm there, Becca." Damn. He was getting too frickin' soft.

She eyed him warily. "I mean it, Seeley. If you get hostile, I will get hostile. I don't want … I don't want a fight. I don't want to waste energy arguing with you."

"I mean it, Becca. I won't get … hostile." That was a massively unfair description of what he did, anyways.

"Thank you," she said, sitting back in the bed. "Is it OK if Brent picks Parker up from practice the next couple of days and lets him come visit me? He'll get him back around seven or so — I'll be exhausted and, from what I understand, doing homework together is a thing for Parker and Temperance."

"Yeah, yeah, that'll work."

Parker and Brent came bouncing back in then, and Booth successfully maneuvered him out of the room in under ten minutes, which was a minor miracle. Parker seemed noticeably lighter on the ride home, and chattered about everything he forgot to tell Mom and needed to tell her tomorrow. He didn't know why Park was so relieved, but he wasn't going to fight it.

Bones met them at the garage door, which was weird, with her lips pursed and a wild look in her eyes. Shit. "Hey, Bones, what's up?"

"Seeley, you know that these days, it's perfectly acceptable to have your phone on in the hospital?" She hissed, looking uncertainly behind her.

"Is everything OK?" he asked, flipping through possible disasters.

"Hey, big bro! Parker, my man! Gimme some skin!" Oh. A surprise appearance by Jared would certainly set Bones' teeth on edge.

"Uncle Jared!" Parker shrieked. "What're you doing in town?"

"Had some meetings at DoD today, thought I'd drive into town to see what the coolest 11-year-old in the world is up to."

Jared was a consultant with a defense-contracting firm based in New York City; his salary and Midtown loft made Booth want to hurl. He flew down every few months extolling the virtues of the private sector and not being "tied down:" trips to Europe or China or some godforsaken adventure-tourist destination every year; a long-term noncommittal relationship with a woman named Dylan; and a sound system that cost more than Booth made in a month. Still, Jared had matured slightly, which Seeley gave him credit for. He no longer drank, had started investing his money through Bones' accountant, and showed up when he said he was going to.

Parker happily slapped his uncle's hand before turning around, in front of Bones, so Bones could slide his backpack off. Bones escorted him inside, and Booth heard her ask how Rebecca was doing.

Jared shrugged slightly. "Sorry I sprung a surprise on your evening, by the way. I tried to call a couple of times but your phone was off. Tempe said Rebecca had surgery today? The hell, Seel?"

"Yeah," Booth grimaced slightly, knowing that Jared would probably consider that something he should know. "Ovarian cancer. Diagnosed last week, they did some exploratory surgery today. It was a little more advanced than we were hoping."

"Damn. How's Parker?"

"He only found out Saturday. Still adjusting, I think. He bounces back and forth. You in town for the night?"

"Me? Nah. Leaving on an 11 o'clock flight. We kinda expected the meetings to go longer, and now the other three guys are shooting the shit in a bar. Decided that wasn't the best place for me so I said I wanted to see my big brother instead."

"Aw, how nice of you," Booth replied. He suppressed the unnaturally strong urge to give Jared a knuckle sandwich. "Don't know how much in the way of hospitality you're going to see tonight, honestly. Last week was pretty tough and all — Bones had a final edit due plus this huge gala thing and I'm completely behind on work because of Rebecca and Parker. And, you know, Sophia got an ear infection — anyways. Long week in the Booth house." They started walking into the kitchen entrance.

"Booth, why don't you and Jared go have a drink in the den while Parker and I get started on this homework?" Bones said. She was standing above Parker, examining his homework assignments for the night. "I ordered us a few pizzas, one pepperoni, one vegetable. And please take Sophia as well. She's playing in the living room." Bones appeared composed and in control now that she wasn't dealing with Jared on her own, but she still was slightly stressed, her eyes and mouth drawn a tad too tightly.

"Nice to see Temperance still wears the pants, Seel," Jared smirked as Booth scooped Sophia up and started down the stairs to the basement.

"We both wear pants, Jare." He flipped the lights on in the den. This was his domain: his jerseys on the wall, his movie and concert posters, his music, his Terrible Towel, his old beer hat sitting on a bookshelf like one of Bones' artifacts. Most of the house was a kid-friendly mix of things they both liked, but they each kept their offices sacred.

"There should be some football on," Jared noted, grabbing the remote for the 103-inch flatscreen. "Damn. I should come visit every time there's a game just for this TV."

"Happy birthday to me," Booth said, grinning at Bones' last birthday gift. She'd given him the remote and let him find the TV before announcing there was no way it was going to leave his den, ever. He was more than happy with the arrangement.

"Times like this I wish Dylan knew how to be a best-selling author."

"Please, neither of us touch that money. Coke?"

"Sure. What the hell? Seel, your combined salaries wouldn't cover the mortgage on this place. For god's sake, you're still a Fed. Even if you're second-best Fed now." The house was huge — five bedrooms plus a "mother-in-law suite" in the attic that obviously would never live up to its name, a finished basement, a huge kitchen, dining room, living room, offices for both of them, plenty of room for the kids and dog, a perfect location at 31st and Q.

"You realize in her day job, she's a federal employee too, right?" Jared just shook his head and grinned. "She doesn't want to touch the book money, mostly. One bought the house, though we did the down payment from our salaries and my savings. Parker and Sophia both had a book dedicated to them, and that book is 'theirs,' so the money goes into a trust for them. The others split between charity and investments."

"Damn. You two are sickening."

"Thanks, bro."

"I mean that in the best way possible," Jared took a sip of his Coke and Seeley took a sip of his Sam Adams. "So, Bex, huh?"

"Yeah. Surgery was today. She lost most of the, you know … equipment."

"I wish you'd told me. I could've stayed another day, stopped by to see her tomorrow." Jared and Becca got along really well. They both thought Seeley was too intense.

"It … happened so quickly," Seeley shook his head. "God, she called us last Tuesday to come over so she could tell us her doctor was concerned. It looks bad, Jare. She's pretty concerned. I'm concerned."

"Of course you are. Parker's ok?"

"We'll see," Seeley took another sip. "What's up with you?"

"You know. The usual. Work's going alright. Dylan and I are getting kind of tired of each other again," Jared cleared his throat. I'm thinking about jumping, actually. Heard about a job down here."

"What's the offer?"

"Lobbying with a group that represents several contractors, including us. It'd be here in D.C."

"You wanna come back?"

"Yeah. I like D.C. better than New York — slower, I never really took to NYC. I like you government types, even if I don't like your salaries. Dylan and I can finally go our separate ways, it's probably a little fairer to her, you know? And, I mean, you're down here, you're busy as hell, Tempe's busy as hell, maybe I can help you guys out a little." Seeley tried not to look too surprised. Jared was not exactly the World's Best Uncle. "Plus, equidistant from Dad, so no change there."

"How, uh, how is the old man doing?" Seeley hadn't spoken to his father since he was 14 and Jared was 12, and wasn't planning on doing so any time soon, but Jared had resumed contact when he'd grown up (without telling Pops, who thought both boys had no idea what had happened), and Booth wasn't below asking his brother how he was doing.

"Pretty good. Joanne's trying to convince him to do winters in Myrtle Beach but he's not too hot on it."

"Like he'll ever leave Philly."

"That's basically what he's telling Joanne," Jared grinned.

"They still in the same place?" Seeley had gotten the address from Jared once but never followed up on a visit. It had stunned him how close he'd been — Pops had kept them in South Philly and he'd been in Germantown.

"Why? You thinking about visiting?" Seeley simply gave Jared a look, and his brother stopped that. "Yeah, still there. You seen Pops lately?"

"We all went up in July, and Parker and I went up before school started." Booth's grandfather was nearing 85 and still sharp as a tack. "Bones gets up there on her own about once a month, too."

"Booth? Jared?" Bones stepped into the room. "I apologize for interrupting the male-bonding ritual," — Booth knew she was actually dead serious about that part — "but the pizza's here. Jared, could you help Parker set the table?"

"Of course," Jared said, disappearing up the stairs with Sophia in tow.

"How's Rebecca?" she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Parker said she was doing okay."

He shook his head. "The doctor diagnosed it as Stage IV."

"Booth," she said, her expression changing. "I'm so sorry. Does Parker understand? And — how are you taking it? I can imagine that this must be difficult for you."

"I'm fine. But Parker doesn't really get it, no. I don't think Becca wants him to, either." Her lips pursed in disapproval. "They're discharging her on Thursday. Her sisters are coming this weekend."

"The ones that think you're a hammer?" Bones had never met Lisa and Sarah — thank God for small favors — but had certainly heard of them.

"Tool. Yeah. Both of them." He exhaled. "She also told me not to hover."

"Hover?"

"You know, bug her. Run background checks on doctors."

"You can be annoying that way."

"I'm just taking care of the people I care about."

"Rebecca does have Brent. And this has nothing to do with your aptitude as a father. Or a person, Booth." She was studying him carefully, trying to read him. He'd told her multiple times how bad she was at reading people. It wasn't quite true. She could read him. Very well, and that really couldn't be happening right now. He schooled his face impassively before continuing.

"I know. That's why I agreed."

"You agreed? To stay out?"

"Yeah."

"Huh."

"What?"

"It's just that I can't really picture you actually not meddling."

"Well, I'm going to try."

"I'm just saying — typically, it's a good thing. I want you to meddle, within reason, and always when Parker and Sophia are involved. But isn't this Rebecca's decision?"

Fed up with the angry tinge to both their tones, he asked, "What do you know about Stage IV cancer?"

"I'm not a medical doctor, Booth."

"Smartest person I know." He looked at her levelly.

"It's — really not great, Booth. I'm assuming we need to see how she responds to treatment?" She bit her top lip with her bottom teeth.

"Yeah. We're meeting with the oncologist on Saturday. Me, you, Bec, Brent, her two sisters." God. He would beg Bones to come just so Lisa and Sarah would have someone else to pick at.

"Me? Why would I be there?"

"Well, Becca invited you, and for Parker's sake."

"Are — are you sure me going is actually appropriate?"

"Why the hell not, Bones?"

She straightened her shoulders. "It's just not."

"Do you have a reason?"

"Well, the first is that, especially if Rebecca doesn't want your meddling, I don't think her ex-boyfriend's wife should be there."

"She asked."

"I'm not sure, but I think she was being polite."

"Bones, Becca wouldn't do that."

"Of course she would," her voice finally rose a bit. "She used to do that all the time, you know. Gives you small things she knows you'll appreciate so she can win the larger arguments. It's actually a useful tactic, I've noticed."

"Bones, she just got diagnosed with Stage IV cancer. I don't think she's trying that right now — and you said it yourself, we're past that. I would like you there because of Parker and because you can do the mumbo-jumbo smarty-pants thing with the doctor."

"Stop selling yourself short, please. I don't feel comfortable intruding."

"You're not intruding, Bones, and sometimes being part of a family is going where you don't feel comfortable. You married me, and Parker and Becca came with that." Shit. "Bones — sorry — please?"

She pursed her lips, almost visibly recoiling into herself. Damn. He should not have gone there. "Booth — you know I don't — and I still don't. If it really matters to you, I recognize that." Her voice thickened, but her tone was pretty final, and when she got this stubborn and pissy he just really wasn't going to deal with it. Especially when she hadn't pulled the I-got-married-for-you card.

"Dad! Bones! I'm going to eat without saying grace if you don't come up here!" Parker yelled. "I'm starving!"

"Up in a minute, Parker," Bones called before turning back to him. "Also, I need to go back to the museum after dinner. Parker's homework is under control."

"You need to go back in?" he asked skeptically. They usually worked from home if they had to work in the evenings.

"Yes. I was doing a cranial reconstruction today and I didn't get a chance to finish it."

He was pretty sure he knew what she was doing. God. Sometimes he was just an idiot. Things were piling up, big, emotional things. All of that made her uncomfortable, triggered her fight or flight response. And otherwise they were at this weird place now, where everything had settled pretty nicely: They both had good, boring jobs and they had a house and they were married and mostly happy and suddenly there was no great internal churning momentum to keep them driving forward. It wasn't quite purposeless, but it was banal, and that was something Bones didn't quite now how to deal with, so she was internalizing and fleeing to her favorite place, which was still the lab.

And the best way to combat this was to be supportive for her, give her her space. Because he needed her. There were few things these days that he could honestly do without having her there, but this one was kind of huge. And she wouldn't be there if he pushed this more. Which sucked, but kind of came with the territory, no matter how he wished — God. It was probably the one thing he would change about her, really; the way she still had trust issues, even after almost 10 years of always being there for her. But being married, trying to keep up with where her crazy genius brain took her, took a lot of work. And it was always worth it. But it sometimes required a lot of sucking it up.

"Alright," he said, stepping toward her, finally, and taking her hand. "I love you."

She gave him a look at first like he was nuts and then said, with a very serious tone, 'You know I love you too, right?"

"Every day."