8 – The aftermath, Part 2

Booth didn't want to be there. There were few places on earth that he dreaded more than this one. And there was only one place he longed to be, and he couldn't. He just couldn't.

Everything was the same as it had been seven years ago, the last time he had been there. When he left he promised himself he would not come back. He would be a new man, a better man. A man that respected people, a man who wouldn't hurt his son and that would be there for every milestone. Or at least all the ones Rebecca would allow him to see.

But for that he needed to grow. The army had transformed him into a different man, much more bitter. The lives he had taken, and the lives he saw going astray marked his very core. He felt his soul was as black as charcoal. The times he helped save a friend, the times he accomplished a mission without bloodshed, the commendations were all moot points. He was a killer. And a very good one at that.

Gambling came as an easy habit. Casinos are fun places to be. They are designed to make people believe they can make money, even when they are smart enough to be well aware of the odds. The lights, the ambiance music, the cute waitresses that look too available for you to look, but never available enough for you to touch, all are set to make people let themselves go.

Then there's the rush. Either it was the sound of the slot machines, or the dealers' words praising you every time you won, the effects were always the same. He felt on top of the world. Every time he felt a poker chip on his hand, every time he was dealt a good hand of cards while playing black jack, he felt his heart rate accelerate. And all eyes are on him, and they're all waiting for him to make a move, and when he does, all breathing stops.

He wins. And with the money came the friends, the parties, the women. It's another thing about casinos. While you are on a winning strike, you are never alone. People parade around you, and go to the end of the world to please you. And so he would be surrounded by guys to whom he would be "the man" or girls who would almost do anything to bed him. That is if they actually made it to the bed, which rarely happened. He lost count how many blowjobs he was given on his backseat.

But all this glamour ends, eventually. Because then you start to lose. And all the friends seam to disappear, and the girls just start to find you disgusting, and you end up alone, with nothing more than your clothes. He used to seat on a hidden bench, looking around, and eyeing the people that were flying around him just a week previously, fly around someone else. Looking for a new source of money, free drinks, free luxury hotel rooms, and (what seems to be) free sex.

And then he was hooked. He would need the gamble as much as air. So he turned to loan sharks. And then he would lose everything again. And he would find himself struggling to pay his debts, and fearing for his own life. He took a few beatings during those days, he broke a few bones. Bones. He couldn't think of Bones right now.

Joining the FBI ended up saving him. He made enough money to pay what he owed, but the gambling never quite stopped. He would find himself wandering through the rows of slot machines just to listen to the wining sound. At least now he was making enough money to feed his own addiction, so things had already been worse.

And finally he had been transferred to Washington. And the gambling changed from casinos, to online poker sites. He was working his ass off during the way, and playing throughout the night. He missed the casinos. But this was the next best thing.

Then Rebecca. The dating was dreamlike. He was so smitten, that he was either working or spending time with her. Gambling was not the first thing on his mine anymore. And he was happy. Moving in together was the next step, and then the arguing began and all dreams went astray. They stopped talking, and everything that used to be there seen to be fading. Being together was more of a habit than any other reason. Sex was nonexistent, and even sleeping in the same bed was becoming a rare occurrence. He either slept at his office or he would come in so late that he collapsed on the couch.

And after a while he started noticing a few signs. She would be late a few nights week, and would arrive smiling, and oh-so-tired. Then there was the bruise in her neck, that she blushed when he asked about it, and the phone calls in the early mornings. Even already knowing she was cheating, seeing it for the first time broke his heart.

When they broke up the gambling, that had been reserved for late work nights, or the aftermath of a very gruesome case, started taking a front step all over again. His nights were spent with the TV on ESPN, and his laptop on his lap.

In the next few months his nights were spent either working, or gambling. Every once in a while he would fall back in bed with Rebecca. They both needed to feel the love that had been there, and if he was honest with himself, he would see that they had had more sex since they split, then when they were together.

But, as nothing you do is without its consequences, they got pregnant. And even if they were both scared, they still wanted to be together, and so they decided to try again. That was until the day he proposed, and she declined, as his father as predicted. Then and there they both realized that you can't always heal what's broken, so they gave up.

And so, after visiting his parents, after being told that he wasn't worth it, he decided that even if he wasn't, his son definitely was. So he vowed when he walked out of that very house to be an honest man. And so he joined the GA, and in a record time the gambling stopped. Parker was what really mattered.

Now he stood in front of the same door, seven years later, and he felt more of a loser than he had felt back then. He had almost killed his own best friend, with his bare hands. The one woman he saw himself spending the rest of his life with. He was turning into his father.

Nightmares were nothing new to him, he had them every once in a while. Normally, he would dream about a very bad mission at war, or bones being kidnapped, or killed. He would wake up in a cold sweat, and would be incapable of going back to bed, so he went for a run, or to work, or fix something around the house, anything really. In the past four years he would wait until a decent hour and would call bones just to ask if she was all right. No matter what she said to him, it always made him feel better afterwards.

But recently his dreams revolved around Philadelphia, and his parents' house, and his childhood. And they weren't pleasant dreams either. But his alternative reality did not excused what he did to Brennan, because in real life he almost killed her. He just hoped she was OK. Reaching to his pocket to call her, just to check, he found out that he didn't have it with him. He must have lost it in his haste of getting out of the hotel. It was for the better, Bones didn't need him around, not when he could hurt her like that. He never thought it was possible.

Dejectedly, he walked through the grass and sat on the front porch. It was still early to knock on anybody's door, especially if that anybody is your long family hat you haven't spoken to in seven years. More than that he wasn't even sure he wanted to go in. No, he needed to. But he wasn't really sure of the why.

He left the front porch as soon as he started feeling movement inside. He wasn't ready to be found, or go in just yet. He walked around the house, to the backyard and moved to one of his favorite spots in Philadelphia. The huge oak tree that stood tall in the corner was exactly as he remembered. He smirked at the memories he had from that very place. Its shade provided the romantic yet private environment dreamed about by many high school girls, as the prototype of the perfect date. Needless to say he got the best of it. Several times. But the privacy wasn't only perfect for reaching third base, or a full home run. The oak tree was a perfect hiding place. It was seasonal, sure, but always better than the attic, or the basement.

So he hid, like he had done many times as a scared kid, and realized that the feeling hadn't changed much. He still felt completely scared, and at this moment, more alone than ever. When he was a child there had always been Jared right next to him.

"I hope you're having fun in India, little brother" he said to himself, just to break the deafening silence.

"Oh well, I lasted longer that you would expect me to, so I guess India was ok"

Booth jumped, let out a not-so-manly yelp and turned around to see his brother leaning against the back door doorframe, smiling, as if finding him there was the most natural thing in the world.

"Jared what are you doing here? How long have you been here? Why didn't you call me when you got back? And how is it…"

"Whoa there, Seel, good morning to you to. I came back a few weeks ago, and since I don't have a job, or a place to stay, as you very eloquently put it last time we saw each other , I did what every screw up son does, I came back home."

"You could have called me."

"I could, but I found out that I actually miss this more than DC, so I just came. I was actually going out looking for a job, if you want to join me. I promised Mom I would be back for lunch, or else she would break my arm just to prove how thin I am."

Booth laughed "Yeah that does sound like Mom."

"So, are you comin'?"

"Huh, sure."

The morning was spent in almost silence, both brothers just enjoying the others company, and realizing that they both missed it. They didn't need reassurance, or advice, or scolding, they just needed the companionship. To Booth it made the world seem less lonely, specially now, that he just lost who he needed the most.

"So how's that hot partner of yours?"

Right on target. Booth clenched his teeth, his shoulders tensed and his hands turned into fists, his relaxed demeanor changing in less than half a second. Knowing his brother well, Jared knew he had made a mistake, but assumed, as anyone would, that they just had a messy brake up. He hadn't seen Tempe since the Gravedigger fiasco. She had apologized for making him lose his job, but guaranteed him that she would do it all over again, if her partner´s life was at stake.

"Don't tell me she beat you up over some technicality. She has a mean punch."

A dark shadow crossed Booth's eyes. He saw her, broken, with his hands around her neck, her forehead bleeding, pale, and panting for air that didn't seem to reach her lungs. The woman who just a year before had punch his guts out during his own funeral gone, and the abused fifteen-year-old resurging. He couldn't bear being the cause of this metamorphosis.

Booth walked away from Jared, not wanting to break down in front of him. He knew it was coming. He was feeling less and less secure each second away from her, not knowing what she was doing, how she was doing. He hoped she was ok. He would die if he hurt her.

"Hey man, want to tell me what's up?"

"No Jared, I really don't"

"Fair enough. But what are you doing in Philly, big brother? I though you sworn never to come back"

"I did. But remains were found here in Longwood, and got Bones to make the recovery. I came as her wingman."

It was the tone that alerted Jared. Seeley would never talk about coming home or work lightly, which told Jared that he was avoiding a touchy subject. And if he had to gamble, he would bet that issue had auburn hair and blue eyes.

"It's more than that, Seel, Philadelphia is a big city. And yet I found you by the kissing tree, early in the morning, wearing nothing but jogging clothes, and without your beloved SUV. What brought you home?"

"I just need to be here Jared. I don't know why yet."

"Well then, I'm sure Mom and Dad will be glad to finally see you."

That made Booth laugh for the first time that day, disbelieving what his brother was saying. After the last time he knew he wouldn't even be welcome inside. Not that it was his entire fault, but he couldn't blame it all on them. He was he screwed up one.

"Seriously. Mom still cries every time she makes apple pie, just because you won't be there to eat it whole. When I came the first think she asked was for pictures of Parker. She almost cried a new river in the living room. She still carries them around, you know, so she can look at them every once in a while."

"And Dad?" Booth was dumbstruck. He didn't know what to think anymore. He walked away from them out of pride and now he realized he wanted nothing more than somewhere he could belong to. Even his dysfunctional, abusive family.

"Dad is sick, bro, and has been for a while. You know what alcohol does to you. Liver failure and shit. He's yellow as parchment, and not breathing right. Doctors say it's a matter of time, there's nothing they can do short of a liver transplant. And he isn't a candidate for that. He still drinks."Jared stopped for a few moments giving Booth time to regroup. Even though their father had been a drunken son-of-a bitch, he was still Dad. And with that comes love. The kind of love which you don't understand, but that you feel none the less. Finally Booth understood what he was doing there; he had to try one last time. Forgive and ask for forgiveness. Because they were family, no matter what. And even if everything went wrong, it was not as if his life was right by any means. Bones would call it catharsis. Bones.

"All right Jared, you win. Let's go home, shall we?"

The house was fully awaked by now. He could see the blinds open, doors ajar, and a few rugs hanging from the windows, to shake the dust. He could already smell his mother's spaghetti with meatballs, Jared's favorite, and pie. He smiled at the thought.

Jared went ahead and called for his Mom, saying that he had brought a friend home for lunch. Delighted to have visitors, Suzanne Booth walked out the kitchen, cleaning her hands on her pristine white apron ready to welcome whoever her son invited home. Then she saw him.

She looked younger. Her white hair tucked carelessly around her face, her cheeks rosy, not pale and fragile as he remembered her from last visits. "It helps not having a husband beating you up 24/7" he mused.

"Seeley?" She asked tentatively, as if she was afraid he was nothing but a mirage created by her own broken heart. But then he smiled. A big, full, charm smile, the kind a smile she remember from when he was a child, long before the abuse, the war, the gambling, Rebecca. A smile so full that conveyed how grateful he was to be there again, after everything, after all that time. A smile he used to shot his Bones. Bones.

"Mom" And he broke. He run to his mother and hugged her, silent tears running down his face. He didn't cry often, but he couldn't help himself. He felt safe. Almost as safe has he had felt just the evening before, watching a movie in his best friends arms. He didn't believe he deserved it, but he accepted it afraid it wouldn't last long. They were like that, just hugging and feeling each other for a long time. He only let his mother go once he knew the tears had dried.

Lunch was a long affair. Eating wasn't as important as catching up, so before they knew it, it was almost dinner time. Between Parker stories, India stories and Philadelphia stories, conversation was light and refreshing. His father wasn't mentioned, even though he was dying to ask. Jared realized that Booth talked eagerly about almost any topic, but whenever the talk started to be work related he balked, almost prostrated with shame. Every time he had talked to Booth in the last 4 years or so, he had mentioned Bones at least once every five minutes, either to say he was going to kill her or that she had been amazing. But he talked about her proudly, head held high to have such a partner. During the whole day he hadn't mentioned her once.

Suzanne sensed something was off with her older son too, but she didn't know who Brennan was, so she didn't know what could be hurting her son that much. "Woman issues" she thought, not being too far off. She didn't ask, not because she wasn't eager to know more about her son but because she didn't want to sound too presumptuous. After all he left because of her, of them. She wanted him to stay, to call, to talk to them. She wanted her son back.

Whenever the conversation eased a bit, Booth's thoughts went back to the hotel, and the woman he had left behind. He was felling smaller by the minute, unworthy, unclean. He should have stayed, make sure she was Ok, but he couldn't. His heart couldn't bear to witness it. So more than a killer he felt like a selfish bastard.

The sun was setting on the horizon, when they decided it was time to get up from the table, silently doing the dishes like they used to years ago, relinquishing in each other's company. Only then Booth asked.

"Where's Dad?"

His mother's face fell, but answered him, looking him in the eyes, as she knew he deserved "He is in the hospital. He was admitted last weekend, because his breathing was failing. But the doctors say he should be home soon, there's not much they can do anymore."

Nodding in understanding, Booth turned to the dishes and said quietly "I should go see him."

"Yes, you should. But they have been keeping him sedated for the time being, and there's no point going there if he is sleeping. Let him come home, so that you can have all the privacy I know you'll need."

Booth nodded again. Sensing it was bedtime he was torn. But he did the only thing he was still strong enough to do.

"Mom, do you thing I could spend the night?"

Smiling brightly, Suzanne only nodded, and then started rambling about how they never changed his room, and how he would always be welcomed there, that he should come more often, and bring her grandson with him, because she was dying to meet him. Booth excused himself and went to bed almost immediately, leaving Jared and his mother behind

"What's eating your brother Jared?"

"I don't know Mom. He seems eager to get away from something, which is something he hasn't been doing in a while. Not since he met that partner of his."

"Who is this partner?"

"You know mom, the one that saved his life and made me lose my job in the process. She is fiercely protective of him, and he used to talk about her nonstop. He says he came here to work, but the entire day he didn't mention her. I think it stinks."

"So it is woman issues?"

"I guess…"

Upstairs, when Booth finally fell into bed that night, he almost thought he was only getting up. His day had been nothing short of surreal. But at that moment, lying on his back in his childhood bedroom, with his left arm over his eyes, there was only one thing he could think of. When he turned trying to make himself comfortable, there was only one image he could picture. Every time he listened to his brother's snores in the room next door, there was only one face behind his eyelids. And when he finally fell asleep, almost dawn, tired of tossing and turning and aching, there was only one word which escaped his lips. Bones.

Well my darlings here you go!

I'm not satisfied with it, but it is the best I can do. I'm feeling that the story is gettinh really slow what do you think? Should I try to speed things up?

Oh, Thank you so much for all you'r wonderful reviews. They make my day =P And to those of you who just lurk aroun, please say something. Even if it is criticism. I apreciate them all. So ehat do you say? YOu think we can reach 50? 55?

Enjoy

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