A Bride for Booth
By LizD
Written May 2010 – July 2010
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Chapter 2
May 20, 2011 – Exactly a year after the parting
Brennan was glad to be back. There was a sense of urgency and accomplishment in working a homicide case that required more focus outside her head. She needed that now. She needed to be busy and useful.
She looked down at the calendar in her book. The day was circled in red. It was exactly one year since the parting at the airport. There was no reason to meet at the reflecting pool. Booth wouldn't be there. There was nothing left for them to say. They shouldn't have attempted the year apart.
Of course it was never intended to be a year without any contact at all. There was email, sat phones and if they were really lucky, maybe a weekend off here or there where they could meet in Greece or Turkey or somewhere. Booth and Brennan did not make the long distance transition well. Booth couldn't read inflection in an email and Brennan could see his smiling eyes on the sat phone which had more interference than a 1950s TV set. They tried to stay connected, at first. Lots of emails (mostly from Brennan's side) but they became fewer and farther between as time went on and he didn't respond. They used the satellite phone often, but without a common interest (other than the unspoken, unacknowledged, unaccepted obvious interest) they ran short of things to say (read: dead air). Then about six to seven months into the tour her greatest fear was realized: Booth was injured very badly. She was the emergency contact and flew to his side immediately. The spinal injury was the most severe, but there were broken bones and burns as well. The doctor's didn't know if he would ever walk again. Brennan wouldn't accept that. Booth did. She had never seen him so broken, defeated and angry. He wouldn't talk about the incident, but she understood that six of the men he was responsible for were killed. She was also given the impression that his actions saved hundreds of lives; she didn't get that from Booth.
She was there for six days before she finally accepted Booth's dismissal. He told her that he didn't want her there. He told her that she should go back to Maluku and be a scientist. Brennan refused to go at first, but eventually had to respect his wishes. She didn't leave until she was sure he would get the proper medical care and physical therapy. It was then she met Elizabeth Darrow, a physical therapist working at the VA. Elizabeth had told Brennan that she had worked with many injured soldiers. Some came back after an injury so severe, some didn't, some got their bodies back but their minds never made it back all the way. She promised to do what she could. Brennan liked her. Elizabeth was dedicated, passionate about the work, and she was undeniably beautiful. That would motivate Booth - he never let a pretty girl down. When Booth called six weeks later to announce that he was walking again Brennan wasn't surprised. She wasn't surprised a month after that when Booth called her and told her that he was planning on asking Elizabeth to marry him.
~!~
"I am happy for you, Booth," she said with all due honesty.
"Nothing has happened yet," he told her. "But I think there is a future for us."
Brennan struggled to keep her voice even and calm. "I liked her very much."
"I forgot that you met her; hell, you met her before I did."
"Yes." There was a stiff silence as both were trying to find the right words to say.
"She will probably turn me down."
Brennan felt the tears rolling down her face. "I think she is smarter than that." One part of her was screaming out to tell him to wait. To tell him that she loved him and was ready to push their relationship toward something more personal, but the logical side of her mind told her not to. It told her that if Booth had found someone to love then she should allow him that. If he had gone so far as to contemplate marriage then he truly had moved on. Brennan - regardless of her feelings for him - couldn't give him the kind life he was looking for, the kind of life he would have with Elizabeth even with the changes in her attitude. Trying to stop that would just be selfish. "I hope you will be very happy," she repeated.
"Yeah," he said sadly. "You too, Temperance." The cold and distance were thick in his voice. That was harder to take than the message.
~!~
Brennan checked her watch. She wasn't sure why, but she wanted to keep that appointment at the reflecting pool. She didn't expect Booth to be there. She wasn't even sure if he was back in Washington or if he was ever coming back. There had been a few emails after that phone call but not many. The only one that really mattered was the one that told her that Elizabeth had accepted his proposal. They didn't promise to be friends or discuss a working partnership. They both knew that there was no place for the other in their lives any more. They needed to move on. Still she wanted to keep the appointment if only to put closure on her time with Booth, out of respect for the impact he had on her life.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Booth was writing a check for the deposit on the apartment he rented for Elizabeth - and himself. He checked his watch for the date: May 20. One year later. Exactly one year later. He had gone to save lives but he had seen nothing but death. Kids, most not older than twenty, were getting killed indiscriminately. He was directly responsible for losing six men - six boys - under his command. He wasn't supposed to have a 'command.' He was there to provide training. How and why he survived was a miracle; he shouldn't have. He shouldn't be alive. He shouldn't be walking and talking. He shouldn't be home, working in his old job, getting married, planning a future and living a life that those boys were denied. It was wrong. The wrongness of it haunted him every day. It was getting worse since he had been back. Elizabeth - who had been a great distraction before - was now a symbol of all that was wrong. It wasn't her fault. She had been a saint and a godsend to him. She was very patient and understanding. She was truly amazing. A more sensitive, giving, loving woman he could never hope to find. He hoped that he could deserve her. He worked very hard to make her happy and to keep moving forward. He tried not to let her see his shift in attitude. He tried to protect her from the darkness that was over taking him. He tried to be the man he needed to be for her. So he forced himself to remain numb, but it was getting harder every day.
"Has it really only been 365 days?" he asked himself. It felt like a lifetime – rather another lifetime.
Without thinking he drove to the mall and to the reflecting pool. He wasn't specifically thinking about Brennan, but she was never far from his thoughts - subconsciously. At first her emails were daily. They weren't like the letters from home that other soldiers got full of declarations of love and loss. They weren't full of reminiscences of the times they shared or anticipations for the next time they could be together. They were more like journal entries in her personal log of her findings in Maluku. Most of it was either over his head, or just not what he wanted to read. He scanned them all looking for something - he didn't know what. Eventually he stopped reading them all together. He responded sporadically never with anything personal; he couldn't write about his work. He tried to believe that he was focusing on the job and too busy, but the truth was he was angry, hurt and alone. The loneliness was overpowering in those first months. The last time he was in a war zone was before Parker was born, before Brennan. He had little to lose then, this time he couldn't help but feel that he had already lost everything. Rebecca had married and Parker was happy with his new 'dad' and his new family. And Brennan ... well, she was never an option anyway. In a year she would have complete moved on – compartmentalized their partnership and back to her old ways. There was nothing left for him back home even if he were to get back there. There was only death and destruction in front of him. Still, her daily emails - if only to see her name in his inbox - were enough to keep him from despairing altogether.
After he was injured all communications were cut off with everyone except Parker - his choice. He did contact Brennan when he decided to ask Elizabeth to marry him. He had thought about the phone call a lot before he made it. He wasn't sure if it was out of respect, spite or to give her one more chance to speak up. He wished he could have seen her face. Brennan words rarely betrayed her true feelings. If he had he might have reconsidered his plan with Elizabeth. But as it was, he had to move on.
Move on! What a joke. Even after the year he had, Brennan's voice was still the voice in his head. It was comforting but a little distracting. He didn't think of it as a betrayal to Elizabeth. She knew all about Brennan - well as much at Booth would tell; she probably guessed the rest; though Elizabeth would never truly understand. Booth probably wouldn't either. And Brennan, not a chance.
If he were pressed he would have to say that he went to the mall to put a button on the past year. So much had changed. So much was still changing. There would be fallout from those 365 days for years to come. Going to the reflecting pool just seemed like the right thing to do. He hadn't been since he got back. It had been a place that he had loved once. Maybe he would find his center again.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Brennan had been sitting at the reflecting pool for more than two hours. She wasn't waiting. She wasn't looking around at the people. She wasn't really paying attention to anything external. She was doing what was intended when the park was built and named. She was reflecting; reflecting on her life, her experiences, her choices, her friends, her family, her past, her present and her immediate future. One thing that struck her was how much was in her control and how much wasn't. A colleague at the expedition had commented that he had never met anyone so appropriately named.
Temperance: from the Latin temperantia meaning self-control, restraint, prudence.
Why had her parents burdened her with that moniker? They had originally named her Joy. Joy was nearly the opposite of Temperance. Had they changed her name to fit her nature, or had her nature changed with the name -
"Temperance?" came a familiar voice from behind her.
She turned still not expecting to see him but there he was; standing upright and tall: Seeley Booth. She stood up to greet him. He was thinner. He was darker mostly due to the tan, but there was darkness in his eyes that she had never seen before. The last time she actually saw him he was laid out in a hospital bed with a broken ulna, clavicle, burns over twenty percent of his body and unable to use his lower limbs. Thankfully the paralysis was not permanent, but those were just the physical injuries she could see. Gone were any of the symbols of his independence; no cocky belt buckle, no funky tie, and no garish socks. He was in uniform albeit FBI issue. He had been normalized again.
"Booth," she said softly.
"I didn't expect you to be here." His tone was even and flat giving no indication what he was feeling at seeing her. She looked familiar yet different. Her hair was different. Her clothes were different. She held her body differently – taller, more self-assured. Her eyes – they didn't hold him at bay as they always had - in fact they drew him in. He instinctively stepped forward and pulled her into a steady embrace. She was safe and home.
Brennan returned the embrace. Her body involuntarily released the tension she had been holding since she last saw him. She had grown so accustomed to it. It unnerved her to feel it go. It made her feel alone, naked, exposed. It was the last thing she was holding onto of him – the fear for his life, the fear that he would never make it back. She could let it go - he was safe and home.
They held each other that way for a long minute. Neither spoke, they just let their hearts re-sync after the long separation. Finally Booth was the one to let go and step back.
"It's good to see you." He didn't use his old nickname for her. In fact he didn't think of her as 'Bones' any more. He didn't have a name for her at all – she was just a fact; a part of his past - a part of him.
"And you," she concurred. He paused too long for her tastes. She needed to fill the silence. "You are back in Washington? Back at the FBI?"
"Working Counterterrorism," he said flatly giving her no invitation to inquire why. "I expected that you would be on the road lecturing about your findings." He actually had no expectations of the kind. In fact he hadn't considered where she would be or what she would be doing.
"We will finish the paper by the end of June. It will publish in September or October. I expect that the invitations to speak will be extended after that." Again a long pause that needed to be filled, "Is Elizabeth with you?" She thought about looking past him, but she couldn't break eye contact.
"She is in Washington, but not here." He paused thinking that was enough of an explanation, but it wasn't. He looked past her to the Lincoln Memorial. "She is working at a clinic in Georgetown. We have taken an apartment there. Moving in this weekend." He had no idea why she needed to know any of that or why he had to tell her, but it filled the distance between them with a barrier that needed to be placed.
"And the wedding?" she asked to show that he shouldn't avoid the topic of his bride-to-be.
"Right now we are thinking a small ceremony in October, but …" He was not about to tell her the number of times the date for the wedding had already been pushed back. It wasn't that he was conflicted about marrying; Elizabeth was the one who set and reset the dates.
Brennan didn't want to sound too interested but was hard pressed to find another topic. She struggled to find something to say. "Parker is …?"
"Very well. He asked about you." He let the statement drop. She smiled wondering if that were true and what half truth he would have told his son about her. "Rebecca got married so he has a real family now too."
It made Brennan sad to think that Booth thought that some other man could give Parker the 'real family' that he couldn't give him. "So Counterterrorism -?"
"Important. Vital. Less field work. Regular hours."
Brennan knew that was directed at her. They wouldn't be working together even cursorily. "You appear to have healed well – physically." It wasn't true. She could tell when she hugged him that he was still feeling pain and it was an effort to stay standing upright and the scarring from the burns would never go away.
"I won't be playing basketball any time soon, but I'm ambulatory."
"Ambulatory?" It was an odd word for him to use.
"More than many guys get," he said trying to hide his guilt. They were heading into the unsafe topics. It was either go down that road or retreat to safer ground. "Angela and Hodgins?" Safer ground it was.
"They have been back for a few weeks – maybe a month or more. They are talking about getting pregnant."
"Nice. Good for them. Cam?"
"She is fine. Unfortunately much of the work fell on her shoulders and she had a difficult time replacing us. "
"You are irreplaceable," he said coolly.
Brennan felt an icy shiver go down her spine. He used to make comments like that before, but they felt like they were from the heart. That time it felt cold - almost insulting. "We should get together for a social occasion. I am sure that everyone would be happy to see you and would like to meet Elizabeth."
"Sure. Sure. Soon." He had no intention of making that date. It wasn't that he didn't want to see them; he didn't want to be seen.
She studied him for a moment and decided that she had to say something. "Booth, I am sorry -."
He cut her off. "Temperance – please don't. There is nothing to apologize for. It is what it is." He had no idea what she was about to apologize for but it was unnecessary and wouldn't change anything.
She nodded. There were too many things to apologize for. She was sorry that there was so much distance between them. She was sorry that he was dealing with so much apparently on his own. He was a good man and didn't need this blackness hanging over him. Mostly she was sorry that their paths had diverged 365 days prior and there was no expectation that they would ever converge again.
"I should go," she said slowly. He nodded. She should probably make up some excuse, but she didn't want to leave him with a lie. She reached out and took his hand. There was nothing to say. There was nothing for him to hear. She looked deeply into his dark eyes. Was he still in there or was he gone forever? She pressed his hand and he pressed back. She chose to believe he was still there. That he knew she was ultimately his partner in life. That she would kill for him, she would die for him and she walk away if that was what he needed. She pressed his hand again and let go. This time, she wouldn't look back.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Seeing Brennan again was bound to happen sooner or later. He hadn't feared it but he hadn't sought it out either. He could still feel her hand in his. He could see smell her. Her face - as different as it was - was still the image he carried with him daily. Her voice was the same as the one in his head. Of all the things he lost in that year, losing Brennan was the deepest cut. When he allowed himself to dwell on her and the loss, he chided himself with one can't lose what one never had. Maybe someday he would be able to grieve that loss. As it was he was vacillating between denial/isolation and anger.
Booth remained at the reflecting pool for some time trying to remember; trying to feel. He remembered thinking that he loved that place, the country but he didn't feel it anymore. He felt empty inside. His life had been death and destruction, pain and anguish in one form or another. From his abusive father, to the first Gulf War, to his time in major crimes to this second 'training' mission in Afghanistan; how many men had he killed? How many died because he was unable to save them, protect them? He had dedicated his life to the service of his country in one way or other. He had given his heart and soul to every mission, every task, every responsibility. He was spent. Going back to work at the FBI was probably not a good idea, but he had to work. Marrying Elizabeth, losing himself in her was unfair to her too, but making her happy, making a life with her was something proactive he could do. He had to keep moving, waiting for the sun to come up, waiting for his faith to be restored. He had to keep moving. He couldn't look back, he couldn't remember - he couldn't reflect. He hated that place. He needed to leave, leave and never come back.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Kathy left the hospital before dawn. He wasn't dead, her partner, but he wasn't out of the woods. She was going to find the man responsible. The man - the killer, the serial killer who had plagued them for nearly six years - she would find him - Jackson Salt. She would find him and kill him for what he had done to her partner. Homicidal was a new color for her; she didn't wear it well, but she was determined, motivated and impassioned enough to see it through to the end even if it killed her.
