Marathon

A/N I had kind of meant for one of my lighter-hearted scenarios to come next, but this one took over. Which sounds ominous. Bu let me assure you, none of my scenarios end tragically. :D

"You're a scientist for God's sake. Take the damn drugs."

"And because I'm a scientist is why I know I don't need those drugs. Maybe you need some drugs, instead. You seem quite agitated. I could teach you some different yoga positions to help you calm yourself."

The words were rational, and her tone was almost rational, except it was tinged with exhaustion. She was in the later stages of active labor and had been now for almost 18 hours with no imminent end in sight.

Booth had an irritated retort on the tip of his tongue, but another contraction was coming and the comment faded away as he wrapped his arm around hers and joined her with slow, measured breaths. She'd been fantastically focused and controlled, but in the last hour the fatigue had started to affect her and she had benefited from Booth joining her with breathing through the contraction rather than simply cheerleading.

"Okay, coming down now." He counted down from ten, as the contraction faded away, and reached for the cool washcloths to rest upon her forehead and along the back of her neck.

"You're exhausted," Booth tried again, in a more even tone. "When it comes time to finally push this baby out, I'm worried you're not going to have enough energy."

"I'm quite strong. If you need to go drink a Red Bull or something, now is a good time to do it."

"You're the strongest person I know. Stop trying to push this back on me. I'm not going anywhere. I know you're strong, but come on. You can't tell me that even some Cocaroca tribe somewhere didn't use some weed or something to help with pain."

She rolled her eyes at him and he might have laughed inwardly at her if he weren't so worried about her.

"There's no such thing as—"

"—as the Cocaroca tribe. I know."

He tried to push down his impatience and frustration. He was tired, too, but he knew it couldn't compare to how Brennan was feeling, made worse by the fact that she was expending so much energy pretending she wasn't so worn out.

Brennan, not surprisingly, had been working on the lab platform when the contractions had first started. Booth, however, didn't find out about it until he arrived at the lab about two hours in and nearly blew a gasket when he found out how long she had been in labor without telling him.

"The contractions are six minutes apart. There is no point in going to the hospital yet. The arrival of the baby won't be for quite awhile, so I might as well use the time productively. We still haven't found cause of death."

Angela and Cam had given Booth sympathetic smiles and Hodgins had tried to cut back his chuckling, especially after the murderous glance Booth shot him, but still snorts of laughter slipped out. He'd left the platform after Angela signaled him off.

"Cam?" Booth had looked at her pleadingly.

She'd merely shook her head. "I hear Paul tell women all the time that they should stay at home as long as possible because it's more comfortable."

"But not so long that she almost has the baby here? And home. Did you hear that, Bones? Home. Not at the lab working over a dead body."

"Four to five minutes," Cam rushed out before Booth could explode. "When contractions are four to five minutes apart is when Paul recommends expectant mothers to come in."

Almost none of what had transpired in front of her surprised Brennan. She knew Booth would be antsy and that was why she did not call him right away. Cam's basic show of support was a little unexpected, but certainly appreciated. It had saved her the time of explaining everything to Booth. Brennan had chosen to stay out of the conversations as long as possible. The contractions hadn't been too bad, but were strong enough to break her concentration while studying the bones in front of her and she wanted to reach some sort of conclusion as quickly as possible.

Booth had paced and belted out irritated and impatient requests that they go to the hospital. Angela had helped by timing out the contractions and Cam did what she could to keep Booth under control.

When they finally did make it to the hospital, Booth had calmed down considerably and his attentiveness and sensitivity became prevalent once more. They had slipped into a communication and rhythm that marked how well they knew each other.

But that was hours ago. Bickering was bordering on arguing and Booth wasn't wrong that she was trying to deflect her own pain and impatience onto him. She couldn't deny that she had expected labor to go just exactly like she had read. Most of the pregnancy had followed the rules and the books said that active labor usually lasted about 12 hours. They were six hours past that mark and she wanted to cry from exhaustion and frustration. But she also didn't want to cry, and the best way to do that was to keep Booth irritated so that she would be irritated.

Unfortunately, Booth was starting to see through this and the first chink in her armor revealed itself as her tears started falling when the next contraction came. She tried to focus on Booth, who was trying to get her to breathe with him, but she'd lost control, and couldn't get on top of the contraction, which made her cry harder and feel like this one would never end. She felt Booth's hand gently direct her face to his, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Bones. You can do this. C'mon," he put her hand on his chest, "breathe with me."

Feeling his heart and looking into his confident eyes, she concentrated, regaining the control she had lost. They made it through the contraction together. He helped wipe her tears away and gave her a gentle kiss.

"You are fighting so hard, but I don't understand why. It can't really be that you are worried about the baby?"

It was almost enough for the tears to come again, but she shoved them away in annoyance. She did not want to cry. It took too much energy, and Booth was right about losing energy, which annoyed her further.

She didn't know if she could explain her feelings. But she could see that he was no longer irritated, but increasingly worried. She didn't like it when he worried about her – not like this, anyway. But she had to try to tell him before the next contraction came which would end with him worrying more or returning him to frustration.

"I want to feel it. I want to feel it all. Angela and Hodgins – they knew they wanted children. Most couples plan for children. This baby wasn't a plan—" She groaned in frustration as another contraction came, interrupting the thoughts that were not coming out of her mouth like she wanted. "Booth…"

"I know. Shh. Shh." He breathed with her. Counted for her. She vocalized her exhales in low tones, like the midwife had taught her. She felt Booth's forehead gently meet hers afterward.

"I don't want to miss anything—"

"—because we've missed so much as it is," Booth finished for her and she nodded, grateful that he understood.

He pulled back for a moment and took off his shoes. "You're right. Let's do this together. Let's not miss a single moment more."

It was no easy feat, but Booth managed to slide behind Brennan in the bed, straddling her. "I will help be your strength. Take both my hands. Lean into me. We can do this, right?"

And with almost 19 hours gone by – and over seven years – Brennan felt like she was just beginning. Carrying Booth's child had been wonderful and frightening.

But now, in this moment, she thought of her own words long ago; with Booth and their baby, she was ready to fly.