Author's Note: Ok, last chapter. I had a lot of fun writing this one, and want to thank Stephaniew again for giving me the prompt. By the way, her original prompt was: have Sweets be the hero.
I do not own Bones or any of its characters. But we all knew that, right? ;)
Thank you again to everyone who read/followed/reviewed this. :D
Peanutmeg: Glad that it didn't disappoint...and this one has what you were looking for, I think. ;)
Stephaniew: Again, I think you will like what you find in this chapter. ;)...It seemed logical to me that Sweets would use his psychology and his mind to fight more than anything else, glad that you seem to agree.
Buttercups3: Sorry, didn't mean to torment you ;)...I agree with what you said about that scene in Mayhem in the diner with Bones and Wyatt: he looked shocked, disturbed and upset all at the same time. When I think of his protectiveness, I think of how Booth often tries to reassure and validate Sweets' talents in the face of the more "hard science" group at the Jeffersonian (like that scene in The Beaver in the Otter when Booth kept reminding Sweets that the hard evidence confirmed his suspicions that some of the frat members were faking their grief)...Don't worry, I think you'll like this chapter.:)
Rowdyromantic: Thank you. :D And yes, Sweets is my favorite character...you can ask Stephaniew about how I feel about deathfics...;P
Cat488, Xoxokiss210, Bookwormlady, Perfectpiratecaptain: Thank you for your reviews. Hopefully this was updated soon enough. ;D
Super ario: Sorry...hopefully this chapter will make up for it.
Palmer4president, Andidinozzo412: Don't worry, I'm not sadistic (I just love torturing my readers is all ;D) I hope you enjoy the last chapter.
Misscruel: Thank you... :D I love writing scenes with Sweets and Booth...I agree that too many fics make him way too callous or too openly emotional. I think Booth is someone who feels things deeply (much like Sweets, actually) but who is reluctant to be open about it for a variety of reasons. But I also think he will open up with certain people and in certain situations...
The Narrow of the Margin—part 5
"Sweets? Doctor Sweets? Can you hear me?"
Sweets could hear the gentle voice filtering into his brain. Dulled by drugs and pain, his mind moved slowly to process what he was hearing. He eventually came to the conclusion that it was a woman's voice who was calling his name. It took a lot of effort, but the psychologist carefully cracked open his eyelids. At first he flinched at the sudden influx of light coming into his eyes, but soon he was able to focus, and see that it was Cam leaning over him.
"Doctor Sweets?" she said again.
Sweets groaned and tried to move. That's when he realized that he was no longer lying on the pavement, but in a bed. He looked around some more to see Angela, Hodgins and Brennan standing nearby.
"Where…where am I?" he whispered although the answer was swiftly becoming clear to him.
"You're in the hospital," Cam smiled. "How do you feel?"
"Weak," Sweets rasped. He tried to move again and was rewarded with a throbbing ache in his head and a sharp pain in his side. "Hurts…"
"That would be from the combination of the moderate concussion, the bullet graze near your seventh rib, and your loss of blood," Brennan said. "You were really quite fortunate. The doctor said that had the bullet gone in an inch to the side, it would have severed some intercostal arteries, and you probably would have bled out before we could get you treatment. As it is, you mainly suffered some muscle tissue damage."
"In other words, a flesh wound," Cam said. Brennan made a face.
"I've never understood why people continue to use such a vague term," she said. "Doesn't every bullet wound damage flesh thereby making all of those wounds 'flesh wounds'?"
Sweets smiled a little as he tried to sit up, but the pain in his side made movement difficult. Then he remembered how he ended up here in the first place, and his eyes widened.
"Connor…" he said, but Cam put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to stay still.
"Dead," she said. "He was going to set off that bomb, but a sniper was able to get him when he walked outside. The bomb squad was able to disarm it soon after that." Angela and Hodgins moved closer to the bed.
"Hey sweetie, you're a hero," Angela said, taking his hand. "You saved Brennan, Booth and all those other people." Sweets tried to shake his head.
"No…no, I…"
"Actually, Doctor Sweets, Andrew said that they wouldn't have been able to stop him from detonating that bomb if you hadn't lured him outside," Brennan added. "So Angela's words are not inaccurate. Thank you for saving my life. I believe we are what you call 'even'."
"Yeah and I guess we all know who really is the crazy one around here now," Hodgins joked. "Going in there unarmed to confront a gun-toting, bomb-making lunatic…makes everything I've done seem rather tame. So I don't want to hear any more lectures from you about the insane stuff we do." Sweets chuckled at that, and Cam rubbed his shoulder.
"All that aside, you gave us quite a scare, Doctor Sweets," Cam said. "We're glad that you're all right, but I hope that we won't be seeing a repeat performance like that from you anytime soon."
"Believe me Doctor Saroyan, I'm looking forward to getting back behind my desk," Sweets said. "There's more than one reason that I'm glad that there is a rule against having firearms brought into my office." That prompted some quiet laughter, and Sweets grinned at the faces in the room. However, he couldn't help but notice that there was one face missing.
"Agent Booth…is he…?"
"Booth was here earlier," Brennan answered. "But after the doctors told us you were stable, he left to finish processing the scene and to give his report to Andrew."
"Ah," the psychologist nodded, reaching a hand up to his head. He could feel that a bandage had been wrapped around his head, leaving his hair sticking up. His temple was still tender to the touch, and he winced when his fingers brushed by it.
Sweets did his best to hide his disappointment. He understood that there was a lot to be accounted for in the aftermath of Connor's actions; he would have to write his own report as well at some point. Still, he thought that Booth would have at least stayed long enough for him to regain consciousness before leaving.
But then he berated himself for being childish.
'This was a brutal and high-profile case, and Booth was the lead agent,' he thought. 'There really was no reason for him to stay…I'm fine…'
Soon he felt even weaker than when he first woke up, and his eyelids began to droop. Angela squeezed his hand.
"Hey, Sweets, why don't you get some rest?" she murmured. "You've had a long day. We'll come back later."
"Ok," Sweets said, closing his eyes. Sleep did seem very appealing right then, so he let himself drift off within moments.
Somehow, Sweets found himself back in the jewelry store. Connor was there and so were the corpses of the two people that he had shot. His vision became saturated with red from the blood and all he could hear was Connor screaming at him again.
'Lying…manipulative…you'll pay…just like I said you would...'
Connor aimed the gun at him again and started to pull the trigger.
'No…please…I'm sorry,' Sweets pleaded.
"Sweets? Wake up, Sweets….It's just a dream."
The psychologist shuddered violently, and his eyes flew open. He looked to see Booth standing over him and shaking his shoulder.
"Hey…are you all right?" Booth asked. Sweets nodded and reached up to feel that his hair was now damp with sweat.
"I…I'm ok," he said, shakily. Sweets tried to sit up and reach over to the stand beside his bed, but stopped and groaned in pain from the effort.
"Lie back down," Booth ordered. "I don't need you tearing out your stitches. Just tell me what you want."
"Agent Booth, it's not that bad. I'm just a little…"
"Sweets…you had a psycho clobber you in the head and then shoot you today. You need to relax and stay still. Now, what is it you need? Are you thirsty?"
"Yes," Sweets finally huffed, giving up. He knew that even if he was at full strength, Booth could easily overpower him, so there was no point in arguing with him now.
Booth walked over and poured him a cup of water from the pitcher on the stand. After gulping it down, Sweets settled back into his bed, and Booth resumed sitting in a chair near his bedside.
"How…how long was I out?" the psychologist asked.
"Only about a couple of hours," Booth answered. "It's just as well that you're awake because one of the nurses will be coming to check on your concussion any time now."
As if on cue, a nurse walked into the room and began to examine Sweets. After asking him a couple questions to see how lucid he was, she left the two of them alone again, making sure to inform them that she would be back in a couple hours. Booth then leaned back in his chair and sighed. Sweets looked over at him.
"Thank you for visiting me, Agent Booth," he said. "As you can see, I'm fine. So if you had some things that you needed…"
"Just settle in, Sweets," Booth said staring at the television on the opposite wall. "I'm staying here with you tonight, so go ahead and get some rest."
"You don't have to…"
"Maybe not," the agent interrupted. "But I'm going to anyway, all right? Let me know if you need anything."
Sweets fell silent, not knowing what to say. Even "thank you" seemed inappropriately trite in this situation. Instead he watched Booth for a couple minutes while he watched TV with the sound almost all the way down. Sweets noticed that he seemed to be agitated.
"Agent Booth, if you need to discuss something…well obviously I'm not going anywhere, so feel free to…" The psychologist halted when Booth looked back over at him and he could see the barely hidden anger in the agent's eyes.
"Yeah, there is something I'd like to discuss," he said. "What in the hell were you thinking, going in there? I told you to stay with the car and keep out of sight."
"There was a mentally unstable person holding a group of people, including you and Doctor Brennan, hostage, and I was the best person to talk to him," Sweets said, irritated. "I'm not a child."
"But you acted almost as foolhardy as one," Booth shot back. "Going in there unarmed and without a vest…You could have been killed."
"While it might not have been the safest course of action, it was necessary that I not appear to be involved with the FBI. Connor is…um was paranoid of organizations that had authority. That vest practically screamed 'law enforcement'. I had no choice but to take it off."
Booth leaned back in his chair with a huff and ran his hands over his face. He then stared at the floor.
"Look, I know how I sound, but you need to understand that I can't have my guys taking excessive and unnecessary risks," he said. "I can't work like that…So I just need you to be more careful in the future, all right?" Booth then reached over and clasped Sweets' shoulder.
"Besides, I…um…I want to thank you. You did a good job today, and you saved a lot of people, including me and Bones." Sweets looked away and began to fidget.
I…I didn't…That woman…who Connor shot…I didn't save her. She died, all because I…"
"There was no way you could have foreseen that," Booth argued. "And as unfortunate as that was, it does not make what you did any less valid or brave."
Sweets try to close his eyes again, but all he could see was Connor's face and the gun pointing at him, ready to fire. He trembled a little and sniffled. Booth leaned back toward him.
"Sweets?" The psychologist struggled to keep his tears at bay, ashamed that his emotions were getting the better of him in front of Booth.
"Everyone keeps saying that I'm some kind of hero or that I was brave, but it's all a sham," Sweets said, quavering a bit. "I…I just feel scared and that doesn't feel all that great." Sweets stared at his lap and fidgeted some more.
"I guess…I thought that being a hero would not feel anything like this," he continued.
"How did you think you would feel?" Booth said.
"Good…exhilarating…satisfying in some way," Sweets shrugged."I understand that post-traumatic stress could be clouding my feelings somewhat…But I should be better able to handle all this. I'm a trained psychologist after all."
"Sweets…when agents stop being scared in situations like the one you were in…that's when we send them to you," Booth said. "Putting that aside, the fact is, part of being a true hero is fear: it's when we act despite our fears that we become heroic." The agent patted his shoulder.
"Quite frankly, I'd be more disturbed if you hadn't been afraid and weren't affected by it now. It's just the type of person you are, so don't worry about the fact that you process things differently."
"Agent Booth…thank you…for that," Sweets mumbled. The two of them were quiet for a while. Booth flipped through the channels on the television before finally settling on a hockey game in progress.
"Sweets…there is one last thing I need to ask you about," Booth said solemnly. "Those things you told Connor about your dad…that was your biological father, wasn't it?"
"Yes," Sweets said, swallowing hard. "My real dad…he loved me and took care of me. Connor didn't need to know that." Sweets gripped the sheets tightly. "I…I know this is going to seem hypocritical considering how much I ask about your father, but I just can't…"
"You don't need to tell me anything else," Booth assured him. "Just tell me this: is it true that you don't know where he is now?" Sweets hung his head.
"Yes…My dad made sure that I never saw him again after he adopted me, and I…I didn't really want to know about him. Then or now."
"Listen, Sweets, I don't think you'll ever snap and turn into some crazy who randomly shoots people and blows up buildings, but I need you to promise me something." Sweets looked over at Booth, who was staring at him with an intense expression and became nervous.
"What is it?" the psychologist gulped.
"Promise me that if your bio dad ever decides to reappear in your life, you'll tell me…immediately. No arguing or reasoning…just call me if he ever shows up on your doorstep. Understand?"
Sweets was initially startled by the request, but that was quickly replaced with warmth and gratitude.
"I will," he said softly. "I promise. And…thank you." Booth nodded and went back to watching the game.
"Good," he said. "Now you should try to get some sleep. That nurse will be back before too long, and it'd be better if you got some rest before then."
"Yeah," Sweets yawned, closing his eyes. He laid back down completely, trying to get comfortable. After he was settled, Sweets felt someone pulling his blanket up over his shoulders and tucking it in. He kept his eyes closed, but smiled slightly and listened as Booth sat back down in his chair.
Sweets then relaxed into a sleep that would remain peaceful until the nurse showed up again.