Chapter 30

Thursday

9:15 AM

Brennan hung up her coat, keeping her left wrist still against her stomach. She had already made the mistake that morning of using it to get dressed and she had learned that she wasn't entirely pain free. That wasn't going to stop her from doing what she felt like she had to do, though. So, instead of worrying about a button down shirt that she knew would give her trouble, she settled for a green, pullover sweater and a black skirt. She wasn't able to wear the kind of necklace she usually liked because all of them were too hard to clasp, but she felt good that she had at least managed to make herself presentable and cover up her bruises.

Walking over to her desk, Brennan looked over everything. It appeared as if everything was in place. She assumed her office had been unused since she had left more than two weeks earlier. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the couch. She looked at it more carefully, noticing that the throw pillow was lying haphazardly in the middle of the couch and that the blanket she usually had draped over the back was unfolded and crumpled at the corner of the couch. Brennan had no idea how that could have happened. She was sure she left the pillow and blanket neatly on the couch.

"Brennan?"

Brennan looked over at her office door. Angela was standing there with her eyes wide open.

"Angela, was someone sleeping on my couch?"

"What?"

"Was someone sleeping on my couch?" Brennan asked, talking more slowly so that she was sure to enunciate. She couldn't figure out why Angela had asked her to repeat herself. She didn't realize that Angela was in shock at seeing her there.

"Sweetie, what are you doing here?"

"Why won't you answer my question?"

"What?"

"The couch, Angela. Did anybody sleep on my couch?"

Angela looked at the couch and then at Brennan. "Yes, Booth slept on your couch."

"Why? What was wrong with his bed at home?"

"Nothing was wrong with his bed."

"Then why did he sleep on my couch?"

"Because he wanted to be here…forget it, it's not important. Sweetie, what are you doing here?"

"I got your photos of the body."

"And…?"

"And I'm here to help."

"We only sent you those photos because Booth said we had to. We have this case under control. You shouldn't be here. You should be home. Resting."

"I don't want to rest and I disagree. You do need my help. I think I've already found the cause of death."

"Clark already found cause of death. Brennan, you just got home from the hospital two days ago."

"I'm not following your logic."

"You shouldn't be here. You should be home. You should be allowing yourself to heal."

"I'm fine, Angela."

"You're not fine, Sweetie. Come on, I'm going to take you home."

"I'm not going home."

"Booth said you shouldn't be on your feet for more than twenty minutes at a time."

"Booth isn't my doctor."

"No, but he got the information from your doctor."

"So I'll sit down a lot," Brenna said, already starting to wheeze. The damage to her lungs and the subsequent surgery sometimes made breathing difficult. Brennan knew she was going to have to get off her feet and rest, but Angela didn't need to know that.

"Brennan, I really don't think this is a good idea."

"I'm fine. Is the body on the platform?"

Angela didn't answer. Brennan walked past Angela and grabbed her blue lab coat from the coat rack where she hung up her jacket. She pulled it on as she walked out of her office and through the lab. She went to button it when she remembered that buttons were her enemy. Even though she hated wearing it with buttoning it, Brennan left her lab coat open as she made her way to the platform. After unclipping her badge, she swiped it through the security box and walked onto the platform. Clark and Cam were standing over the body.

"Dr. Brennan," Clark said, surprised.

Cam whirled around to face Dr. Brennan. Neither of them were concerned with the decomposing body that was in front of them anymore.

"Dr. Brennan, what a surprise," Cam said.

Angela walked up the platform after Brennan. She hung back, crossing her arms over her chest. She caught Cam's glance and she shrugged.

"I don't know why it is a surprise. I do, after all, work here," Brennan replied as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves.

"We know that, but it's a surprise to see you here now. Booth said you were going to be out of work for four to six weeks."

"Booth was mistaken."

Brennan looked closely at the body. The body was completely devoid of flesh or skin. All that was left were the bones, which were caked with dirt.

"The victim is male. Mid to late fifties. Where was the body found?"

"In a shallow grave in the woods," Cam answered. She eyed Clark suspiciously.

"I would estimate death occurred somewhere between fifty and sixty years ago." She was beginning to feel out of breath. Her voice came out slow and raspy.

"Sweetie, maybe you should sit down," Angela said, stepping forward.

"I'm fine," she lied. She knew herself that she should take it easy. She knew her body had gone through a terrible trauma, but she needed to work. She needed to prove that she was still useful.

"Has Hodgins looked at any of the particulates?"

"He's at the scene with Booth gathering some evidence," Cam explained.

"Do we have an ID?" Brennan could feel her head beginning to spin.

Even though she was trying to fool them, everyone could tell that she was not as fine as she said she was.

"I'm running the dental records," Angela responded. "I really think you should sit down."

"Angela said you might have found cause of death," Brennan said to Clark.

"Ribs four through six were broken and by analyzing the breaks I was able to determine that the rib must have punctured the right lung. This man died from pneumothorax."

Brennan was immediately quiet. That was exactly what she had suffered from and would have died of if Booth hadn't found her.

"Can you excuse us, Clark?" Cam asked.

Clark looked at each of his colleagues. He could see the looks in their eyes and feel the tension in the air. He didn't know how he always seemed to be in the middle of drama when he tried his hardest to stay out of it.

"Gladly," he said.

Clark walked away. Feeling lightheaded, Brennan grabbed the edge of the table that the corpse was on. She knew it was something that would have bothered her if anyone else did. She didn't allow anyone to touch her table. Cam quickly grabbed a chair over and put it behind Brennan.

"Sit," Cam stated.

"I'm fine," Brennan repeated.

"I'm your boss, Dr. Brennan, and I'm ordering you to sit."

"I think you're taking your status as my superior too far, Dr. Saroyan."

"Sweetie, just sit in the chair," Angela responded.

Knowing she had no choice or she might not be able to stand anymore, Brennan sat.

"I'd like to see the X-Rays," Brennan said.

Cam took a deep breath. She knew what she had to say, but she tried to think of a way to say it that wouldn't make Brennan angry. She had learned early on that she had to tread water around Brennan very carefully.

"Dr. Brennan, I know you'd like to help, but we have this case under control."

"I am the best in my field. I could be vital to this investigation…"

"And you will be," Cam assured her. "We will consult with you…from home."

"But I'd be much more useful here," Brennan argued.

"You need to go home, Dr. Brennan," Cam stated simply.

"I'll be in my office. Let me know when you get those x-rays."

Brennan stood up and stormed off to her office. She couldn't understand why everyone was so intent on sending her home. How could they not understand that she wanted to work? That she needed to work?

"Should I call Booth?" Angela asked, already holding her phone in her hand.

"Oh yeah, call Booth," Cam agreed.

10:42 AM

Booth marched into the Jeffersonian and strode right to Brennan's office. She was sitting at her computer, intently looked at the screen. Booth walked right up to her desk and stood in front of it. He placed both hands on the desk and leaned in closely to her.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

She didn't look at him. She just continued looking at the x-rays that were on the screen.

"I'm working," she replied. Booth reached across her desk and turned off her monitor. "Booth!"

"You're not supposed to be working. You're supposed to be home, resting."

"Why does everyone think I need rest?"

"Because you do."

Brennan went to turn her monitor back on, but Booth blocked her by grabbing her fingers.

"Booth…"

"I'm taking you home."

"No you're not."

Booth let go of her hand and walked around her desk so that he was standing right next to her. He squatted in front of her so that their eyes were level with each other.

"Yes I am."

"You can't tell me what to do."

"You sound like Parker."

"But you can tell Parker what to do. He's your child. I'm not your child."

"No, but right now you are in my care and I am taking you home."

"I am not in your care."

"Why does everything have to be an argument with you?"

Brennan looked down at her lap where her left hand was resting. She curled and uncurled her fingers, feeling the tenseness of her nerves. She took a deep breath, remembering how out of breath she had gotten just standing on the platform looking at the body.

"I'm not trying to argue," she said quietly.

"Then let me take you home."

She looked up at him. "I need to work, Booth. I need to feel…needed. I need to feel useful."

"You are useful, Bones. You are needed. I need you."

"No you don't. You have Cam and Clark and Angela and Hodgins and…"

Booth put his finger over her lips. "I still need you, Bones."

"I need to work," she repeated. He could see the tears swimming in her eyes. He knew she wouldn't let them fall. She was too strong for that.

"I know."

She shook her head. "No you don't. Not working is like saying…it's like saying that he won."

Booth nodded, understanding completely. He hated being out of work too. He could only imagine how Brennan was feeling.

"He didn't win, Bones."

Booth reached up and stroked her cheek. He was becoming bolder with his moves. He wondered if she would react in any way, but she didn't. If anything, she leaned into his touch, wanting more.

"I want to work on this case, Booth. I want it to be like it was before."

"I know. And it will be, Bones, but you need to take care of you. You need to get better. You need to heal because I don't like seeing you in pain."

"You can't see pain, Booth."

He was about to argue that pain was written all over her face almost any time she moved, but he kept his mouth shut. He did not want to start another argument.

"We'll keep you in the loop, Bones as long as you go home."

"What loop?"

Booth chuckled. "It means we'll keep you involved, Bones. I'll make you deal. I'll make sure that you get copies of all reports and scans and x-rays and whatever else it is that you squints do while you get to go home and get the rest you need."

"I don't know if I like this deal," Brennan said.

"Take it or leave it."

She sighed. "Fine."

"Good. Now I'm taking you home."

"I can just take a taxi."

"Is that how you got here? A taxi?"

"Yes. I would have driven, but Dr. London said I shouldn't drive."

"Why is it that you listened to Dr. London about everything but going to work?"

"Because I felt he was wrong about keeping me out of work."

"He's a doctor, Bones. I think he knows best."

"I'm a doctor.
"Yes, but you're not a medical doctor."

"Are you saying his opinion is more important than mine?"

"When it comes to your medical health, yes, I do think his opinion is more important than yours."

"But…"

"Don't worry, Bones. You're still my favorite doctor. Now come on." He stood up from his hunched position. "Let's get you home." Brennan took his hand and he pulled her to her feet.

Author's Note: I just couldn't write this story without having Brennan go back to work even if she wasn't supposed to. It just seems like a very Brennan-like thing to do. Thanks for reading!