A/N: My go-to gal for this story, nicolemack, is with family across the world, so my thanks for lookover help goes to lizook for this chap, and in general to The Posse for their support. Great bunch of girls, they are.
--
They sat in their typical fashion—side-by-side, nearly touching but not quite, while their young therapist watched them earnestly from the chair across from their couch. Often, they used this as a time to bicker, enjoying both the conversation itself and the frustration that it caused Sweets, who wanted them to talk about more personal, meaningful issues.
But today they couldn't seem to find it in them to pretend there wasn't something more important to deal with. They fidgeted and looked everywhere but at Sweets and each other, but they couldn't revert to casual banter.
"This business with Agent Booth's sister…it's really thrown you, hasn't it?" the younger man said, by way of starting the conversation.
"I'm dealing with it," Booth replied shortly
Bones glanced over at him, surprised. "You are?"
He gave her a look. "That's not nice."
Sweets was nodding. "The two of you are both feeling the strain of this. Why don't we talk about that?"
He knew he had to talk about this sooner or later, and the elaborate string of memories it brought to light—Gabrielle, his father, his mother, Jared, the alcohol, the beatings, his grandfather, his abandonment—but it was all a confusing tangle in his head right now and the thought of even starting to climb that mountain made him feel incredibly tired. "I'm not sure this is the time to deal with that, Sweets. I have some things I want to sort out first before I make it a therapy issue." He didn't miss Bones' frustrated look in response to his words, and neither did the doctor.
"Dr. Brennan, you're struggling with Booth's inability to discuss this openly. Why don't we talk about some of your feelings, as Agent Booth's partner and friend?"
Playing dirty, Booth thought to himself in resentment of the therapist. You know the best way to get to me is through Bones.
She was now fiddling with the tassels of the couch's pillow. "I don't want to upset him," she said finally, looking up from the twisted cord.
Bones was worried about his comfort level in therapy? "Since when?" Booth asked incredulously.
Brennan ignored him, talking straight to Sweets. "It's been a very stressful past few days for Booth. I certainly don't want to make this about me."
"Your attempt to shield him is kind, Dr. Brennan…but isn't being shielded from the truth what caused part of this problem in the first place? Oftentimes we have to face the truth—no matter how unpleasant—in order to satisfactorily resolve the problem."
Booth gave Sweets a wary look, knowing he was right, but also not particularly looking forward to what was likely to come next.
But Bones was nodding, Sweets encouraging, so he felt there was little choice in this matter.
"I understand Booth's feelings of ambivalence towards his father, and towards Gabrielle for her connection to him. I really, really do," she stressed, looking directly into his eyes as if driving the point home that both of them certainly were familiar with such feelings. "When my brother and father came back into my life, I was very hesitant to accept them. But I did…with Booth's help. He explained to me about the importance of family, and I believed him because he's the 'heart guy'." She made quotes in the air. "I trusted him, and am now glad that I did; Russ and Dad mean so much to me, and I'm so glad I let go of my anger towards them."
He knew what was coming, and tried to brace himself from it.
Her eyes drifted back to Sweets. "But I can't help but feel now that Booth's advice on the matter was somewhat hypocritical," she mumbled.
Bracing himself hadn't worked. A million emotions smacked him in the face at once; anger at the accusation, guilt at knowing it was at least a little true, but mostly the firm hold of denial and the all-encompassing urge to deflect. He butted in. "I only advocated that because I could tell you wanted them back in your life, Bones. And the reason you've been able to get close to Max again is by pushing down your anger, not letting it go."
It came out without consideration, but it had exactly the desired effect; she was shocked out of her line of thought.
"I'm not angry with my father anymore," she said incredulously, while Sweets watched them in fascination.
"You're not? Not even a little?" he challenged, hating himself for doing this but needing to get the focus off of himself.
"No. I've come to terms with what happened when I was a kid."
"If your father hadn't abandoned you for a life of crime, you wouldn't have gone into the foster care system. You would have the life of a normal teenager. You wouldn't have been locked in the trunk of a car for breaking a fucking dish. You'd have to be made of stone not to be angry about that." He regretted the words the instant they were out in the air, but it was too late now. Color had already poured into her face, her eyes already narrowed.
"Shut up, Booth." Her voice was full of hurt and warning…he'd pushed too far and he knew it. "You were the one who told me to forgive him. You were the one who encouraged my relationship with him. And now that we have one, you want me to be angry with him? That's unfair."
Sweets finally intervened, but it was unnecessary at this point. "Okay guys, I think we should take a few seconds to diffuse and…"
The extent of his own repressed anger had never been so apparent to him as it was in this moment. Was he so damaged that he'd take out all his hurt and shame on the woman he loved? Would he accept a quest of self-destruction before he admitted his weakness to her? "No, she's right, Sweets. I'm sorry, Bones. I shouldn't have brought that up," he said quietly.
But he'd fucked up this time, really fucked up, and she wasn't finished. "You know what I think? I think you want me to be mad at him because you're jealous. Because no matter how much Max messed up, he was still a better father than your Dad was."
Their eyes bored into each other, and even though they'd always bickered and argued, always pushed each other, it never felt this nasty or awful.
Their therapist tried again. "These are very difficult feelings that both of you have about your families. It's okay to express them, but we need to stick to one issue at a time."
By his last words, Brennan had already stood and was heading for the door. "Don't bother," she said coldly, now refusing to look at either of them. "I don't think I'm interested in anything else Booth has to say about families. Since it was apparently all make-believe to begin with."
When the door slammed shut behind her, Booth found himself as left behind as he'd ever felt in his life.
--
When he answered the doorbell later, she was looking incredibly hesitant, and he couldn't exactly blame her. "Come in," he urged.
Glancing around, she walked into his place slowly, almost as if she were expecting an ambush. He held up a finger as he ran back in the kitchen for a moment. "Be right back…gotta stir the pasta. I hope spaghetti is okay."
"It's fine, but you don't have to cook for me."
"No, I wanted to." He called it while he pulled of the lid that sat tilted on the pot, hissing at the steam that came off and burned his hand. Snatching a dishtowel, he wrapped it around one hand as he checked the status of everything on the stovetop. Finally satisfied that everything was as it should be, he tossed the towel on his shoulder and went back out to his visitor. "I don't cook much," he apologized. "But this is a staple when Parker comes to visit."
"It's not a big deal." She hadn't sat down, and was looking anything but comfortable.
Sighing, he gestured to the couch. "I felt horrible about how we left before."
She took the invitation, sitting down gingerly. "Me too."
"Does Von hate me?" He sat on the armchair across from her.
"Just a little. He didn't really want me to come today."
"Do you hate me?"
Her big brown eyes blinked. "You know what's strange, is that in all this time I'd never considered how I'd feel about you. I just thought we'd meet and it would feel right and…you'd be my brother." She shrugged and looked a little embarrassed. "I guess as much as I thought about it—I never quite thought it through."
"You still had it better thought through than I did." He rubbed his face, but didn't look away from her this time…he planned to be honest about his cluelessness, and at least that was some course of action. "Gabby, I don't know what to do about this. In all honesty, I'd prefer to put it all behind me, but…I seem to be having difficulty doing that." He thought about his disastrous therapy session with Bones last evening. If it had proved anything, it was that he was utterly incapable of just putting Gabrielle—and everything she represented—behind him.
"Which is why I'm sitting in your place about to eat spaghetti," she finished, and he gave a rueful shrug. "Seeley, you know that I want a relationship with you. But the thing I realized the other day was that I'm only willing to try as hard as you are. We're going back to Virginia tomorrow, and…jeez, this whole trip has taken a lot out of me." She did look exhausted, he noticed, her face a little more drawn, dark circles under her eyes that stood in stark contrast to her otherwise youthful appearance. "If this isn't going to work, if you are just never going to be able to accept me…I hope you'll tell me that now, so I can start admitting that as a fact and move on with my life."
He hated what his indecision was doing to her, but his hating it didn't give him the answer about what to do with her. "I'm…" he took a deep breath… "not going to tell you that."
Her eyebrow rose.
"Could we…maybe…just get to know each other a little bit? No expectations, no promises. Not making this about anyone else except us."
She regarded him silently for so long that it became uncomfortable, and he almost told her to forget about it, they'd just have their dinner and put this whole disaster behind them—but then she spoke.
"Jimmy Eat World."
He snorted. "Are you kidding me? Do I look emo? AC/DC."
"They're such a cliché. Nickelback."
"That's fake rock, sweetheart. The Doors."
"Way too far before my time." She paused, considering. "Tom Petty?"
A smile cracked on his face. "Yeah. I like Tom Petty."
She seemed to wait until she was sure he wasn't teasing her; then, she grinned uncertainly. "Alright then. That's somewhere to start."
The timer on the oven chose that moment to go off, and he stood. "Yeah. Gotta start somewhere."
Rising to join him, she followed. "You want help?"
Sighing, he briefly squeezed her shoulder as he guided her back to the kitchen. "Gabs, I can use all the help I can get right now."
Before they sat down to dinner, he hit the power button of his stereo, and the loud riffs of Purple Haze filled the room. She wrinkled her nose at him. Running his fingers down the column of his extensive CD collection rack, he made a different choice, sliding the disc in and waiting for the first chords to play, and for her approving smile.
Into the great wide open, indeed.
--
"Do we have a case?"
Bones' voice was cool and no-nonsense; it's the one she used most of the time in her lab, while she had her hair pulled back and her blue coat on. But he liked to imagine that her tone usually softened for him.
But not this time. She wouldn't even look directly at him.
"Now you know if we had a case, I'd call you first, Bones," he told her. "I'm here to take you to lunch."
She was staring at shattered pieces of a skull on the backlit table. "I'll be eating here today."
"Come on. Don't be this way." He tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. He'd been doing better at being mature for the past few days, but it was no secret that this woman could push his buttons like no other. "I have some things I need to talk to you about. About Gabby."
He'd thought that would pique her interest, and for a brief moment it seemed to work; her eyebrows rose in surprise. But they fell just as quickly. "I think if we learned anything the other day, it was that neither of us are any help when it comes to family matters, Booth. If you want advice on those issues, you should talk to Sweets. Or maybe Cam, because she has experience with these things…"
"Bones, I don't want to talk about it with those people. I want to talk about it with you." He reached out and touched her arm, the crisp material of the coat feeling stiff against his fingers. She didn't move, didn't respond, and he fought the edge of desperation that threatened to creep into his voice. "The things that I'm feeling right now, they're hard…I haven't been dealing with them very well. And I need my friend to understand that, and not judge me too harshly."
Her jaw twitched, evidence of his words having effect…but she didn't bend, speaking softly to the bones in front of her rather than him. "I feel like you misled me, Booth."
"That was never my intention."
"It still feels awful." She finally hazarded a look at him, and he saw the caution there. And it did feel awful because while Bones' trust in him was never blind, he had always before strove to give her every reason for it—and it paid off. Years of gentle chipping at her barriers of logic had made him the one she came to when she had feelings she didn't understand.
He still believed he counseled her correctly, in the matter of her father and brother.
But perhaps he shouldn't have been so heavy-handed with the "family trumps everything" platitudes when he himself had notable exceptions to that rule.
"I'm sorry," he told her. "I'm more messed up by this than I would have expected myself to be. Forgive me. Have lunch with me." He squeezed he arm he still held, and tried to convey with his eyes what it wasn't quite okay to say out-loud: Someday, Bones, I'll make this up to you…I'm going to take you in my arms and show you, just who I think of as my real family. And then you'll see that the things I said weren't a lie.
"Booth…" she hedged, but he imagined he could feel just a little of the tension draining out of her…he smiled hopefully and begged God for just a moment to for once let his smile have the same effect on her as it seemed to on many other women.
Before she gave him the satisfaction of a response, his phone rang from deep in his pocket. He muttered his discontent at the unwanted interrupted. "Hold on. I'm not leaving without you," he warned, fishing for the buzzing electronic and frowning at the unfamiliar number. He didn't like to interrupt his very important make-up attempt with Bones for a stranger. "Hello?"
"Seeley?" It was a man's voice, not really familiar, but not completely unknown either.
"Yes?"
"This is Evonis Mitchell…Gabrielle's fiancé?
Von? Why was Von calling him? He and Gabrielle should have gotten on their plane an hour ago. "What's going on?"
"I'm sorry to bother you," he said, although his terse voice indicated little apology. "But we're down at the police station, and Gabby asked me to call you."
"What?! What are you doing there? Is Gabrielle okay?"
"No. I mean, yes, she's physically fine. But she got mugged this morning walking around National Mall, and she's pretty shaken up. Took her purse and her ring."
"Mugged??" His eyes flew open, and Bones looked at him concernedly. "Jesus."
"Yeah, I know that it's not really an FBI matter, but…"
"I'll be right there. Don't go anywhere." He flipped his phone shut and turned to Bones. "I've gotta go to Metro. Gabs ran into some trouble this morning."
She nodded. "I'll come with you."
He had to give her credit; she was always there when it really mattered. She shuttled him past all the curious eyes, the fingers skimming his back somehow as much a comfort as a hug from anybody else.
--
His badge quickened the process of making his way through D.C. Metro and finding Gabrielle, who was slumped on a bench outside the interview room while Von paced nearby. She looked up as he entered, her face puffy from crying, and hell if it didn't almost make his heart break.
"Hi Seeley," she whispered.
"Hey Gabs," he said gently, looking down at her. "Now what is this all about?"
"I…missed my flight," she sniffed, and the words were accompanied by another tear squeezed down her pretty round cheek.
"Don't worry about that, okay? We'll get you home soon." Sitting beside her, he took her hand in his then nodded toward his partner. "This is Dr. Brennan. She came for moral support."
"Oh yeah, we talked on the phone." Gabrielle forced a smile through her tears. "You didn't have to do that."
"Moral support for me," he stressed, while Bones shook Von's hand.
Gabby's curls fell in her face as she looked downwards. "I got up early…couldn't go back to sleep, so I thought I'd take a walk in the Mall. There was hardly anybody around, and I was just about to leave to maybe check out the Capitol when this guy came out of nowhere. He had a gun; I gave him my bag but he wanted my ring too…" She twisted her bare finger. "I shouldn't have gone alone. God, so stupid…"
"Don't you dare blame yourself." He found himself nearly impossibly angry—God knew he'd seen a hundred more awful crimes, but somehow this one, perpetrated against this girl (sister) who was no threat to anyone, who had come to this place for him…it pissed him off beyond belief. "You gave the cops a description—told them everything you remember? Cancelled all your credit cards? You're sure there's nothing else?"
She nodded.
"I'm going to talk to them…make this one priority, okay?"
She blinked with watery eyes. "It shouldn't be anymore more priority than anyone else. But I'd really like my ring back."
Oh fuck. "I know. We're gonna figure it out. Give me a minute, okay?" He glanced at Bones, sending her a tacit message…take care of her for me…and waiting until she nodded in response before heading into the interview room to talk to the cop who'd taken Gabrielle's report. He knew several of the men and women who worked Metro, and had good relationships with a few of them; he used that to his advantage now. Although he hated the idea of nepotism in crime-fighting, he also knew Metro had a lot on its plate and something like this could easily get pushed to the wayside; he didn't want that to happen in this case. In fact, remembering Gabby's traumatized musing of her bare ring finger made him feel vaguely nauseous, and he put extra emphasis on his request for the recovery of that particular item.
When he came back out, he found Bones and Gabrielle sitting together and talking quietly. Gabby's tears had dried, and he picked up on the last few words of the conversation…and then I twisted as to cause maximum damage to several of the bones in the carpus…and he had to smirk. Bones was giving her advice on self-defense? "Stop it," he scolded. "When someone points a gun at you, you don't take chances unless you're a cop."
"…Or another person with specialized training. Which I am," she responded.
"But Gabrielle isn't."
"Maybe I should be," Gabby piped up, with more energy than he'd heard since he met her here.
"Or maybe we should just have you stay put so you can stay safe," he replied sternly. He put a hand on the younger woman's shoulder, urging her up. "Now. Let's take you back to…where are you going?"
Her and Von looked at each other. "Oh," she responded. "Last night was the last we paid for in the hotel. I guess we'll stay…honey, can we stay in a different one tonight? I know that it was just a fluke, but…I don't really want to be in that area again." She looked uncomfortable.
"Of course," Von soothed, approaching her and squeezing her hand. "We'll find somewhere else. And tomorrow…well, I guess we'll just get a note from the cops that your ID was stolen, and see what the airline can do for us." He sighed. "We'll figure it out."
"You don't need a hotel. You can stay with me."
That came from Bones. The three of them turned to look at her with their mouths open.
"Dr. Brennan, we can't just…"
"Certainly you can."
Booth sidled in closer and talked lowly in her ear. "Bones, you don't have to do that. If they stay with anybody it should be me…"
She spoke at normal volume. "Don't be ridiculous. Your place isn't big enough to comfortably accommodate two overnight guests. Mine is. And Gabrielle and Von are both students, so I very much doubt they can afford another stay in a hotel, plus a new plane ticket." She was reaching in her bag for her phone. "I'm going to tell Cam I'll be back a little late today while I get them settled. Tomorrow, I'll drive them back to Virginia."
They were all staring at her. Von tried again. "This is very kind of you Dr. Brennan, but you shouldn't have to…"
She held up a brusque hand as she put the phone to her ear, letting it ring. "Please don't argue. You've both had a difficult day, and this will make things easier for everybody." Seeing the questions in Booth's eyes before Cam picked up on the other end, she responded. "It's okay. I promise." And despite her matter-of-factness, all he could see was the caring that laid under this act she was about to carry out.
God, but she made his heart hurt sometimes.
"Hey, Cam…" she turned as her boss answered, making the conversation a little more private.
As Booth turned his face from her and back to her two new charges, he suddenly, surprisingly found himself with his arms full of Gabrielle. "Whoa."
"Thanks for coming, Seeley," she whispered. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder, and he turned her cheek into his chest as she squeezed him tightly. "I know you didn't have to, and probably didn't want to, but…I'm glad you did."
Over her head, he saw Von, watching them through his glasses just a little distrustfully. Gabrielle had said he only hated Booth a little.
"I'm sorry this happened to you, Gabs," he told her, putting his arms around her in return and resting his chin atop her dark curls for just a moment before he took her by the shoulders and gently disentangled her from himself.
"I'm sorry too. But I'm happy you care." She regarded him earnestly for a second before Bones came back.
"Okay, we're set. You two have your things?"
"They dropped them off over in the cop's office who interviewed me. I'll go get them." Gabrielle took a brief leave, and Von followed her.
They only had a moment to be alone, and Bones was regarding him coolly.
He spoke first. "You know I'm not going to let you go alone tomorrow."
"I won't be alone. Gabrielle and Evonis will be with me."
"You know what I mean." He was vacillating being in awe of her kindness, and resentment of her continued urging to face his demons.
"I'd never make you," she replied simply.
"You don't have to." And that was the amazing part, wasn't it? The power she had over him without even trying to exert it. How he could one day be angry with her, and the next be agreeing to…no, insisting on…accompanying her to his father's new home state.
Yet…that is exactly what he had just done.
--
A/N: I always appreciate your thoughts!