A Bride for Booth
By LizD
Written May 2010 - July 2010
Chapter 3
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
July 4th Weekend
Elizabeth sat on the mall with her fiancée watching the fireworks. She could tell he was not enjoying them, but worse than that they were affecting him. It was his idea to go, to be a normal couple doing normal things. He was always trying too hard to be normal. They made a nice picnic, they got ice cream from the vendor, they watched kids play Frisbee. He held her hand, stole chaste kisses and stayed present and engaged in the moment. It was all wholesome, good, very Norman Rockwell. But it was a lie, a ruse, an act - an act that was getting harder to ignore.
Elizabeth agreed to move back to Washington because she thought being back would help Seeley, but he was only getting worse. He was pretty tight lipped during his recovery about the incident that had caused his injuries, about what he was feeling, about his past. He was very open to talking about their future and her - anything to do with Elizabeth (past, present and future) was an open topic. Elizabeth found it very refreshing - a man who would listen, really listen to her hopes, dreams and fears. Those first months were incredible; fun, easy, nice, just really, really nice. Of course she wasn't expecting a marriage proposal. She had thought she had found a friend that was all. The idea of marriage never occurred to her. It was out of the question. She still considered herself married. She almost said no because of it, but she had been alone for so long and Seeley was so unlike any other man she had ever known.
Elizabeth's first husband had died in 2003 during the first days of the war. They were high school sweethearts. They were in love, in sync and completely happy every day of their lives together. William, her husband, was a marine. He came from a family of marines. They were waiting to start their family while she was in school and getting her physical therapy degree and training. She completed that in early 2001. The plan was that he was going to retire from the marines and go back to school, she would establish a physical therapy practice and they would start a family in a year. But then 9/11 happened. Everything was put on hold.
She did her part for the war effort and had gone to work with veterans and the service men and women even the before the war started. After her husband was killed, she was devastated. The only thing that kept her going was the work that she was doing. She put everything she had into it. She had helped countless soldiers get back as much as they could and more than they expected after they were wounded. Many of them – men and women alike – confused her compassionate, dedicated, nurturing method for love. She never did. Not until Sergeant Major Seeley Booth became more than a patient.
She had worked with Seeley for his six weeks of recovery three times a day. He was never inappropriate and she didn't believe that he was the type to confuse his feelings. The first time they met outside the physical therapy setting was by accident. He was an excellent listener. The subsequent meetings became more frequent, but she didn't view it as going anywhere. Then he asked her to marry him. They hadn't even kissed at that time. She thought it was oddly romantic, but his request was sincere. She agreed.
He had nearly three months left on his tour and would go back to finish. It gave her time to get used to the idea of getting married. She discovered that he was not as good a communicator via email or phone. As they planned what was next, she agreed to Washington even though San Diego was her home. He had a son and that trumped her family and in-laws.
After nearly two months at home she could tell that he wasn't trying to get better, he was trying to forget - forget something that was unforgettable. On Independence day she wondered if she were the problem. She wondered if she had been what was blocking him from dealing with what he needed to. Maybe she wanted him stuck. Maybe if he looked back or got better he wouldn't need her any more. He was using her to forget. She was his drug, his medicine, his prescription to dull the pain. That was no way to live a life, get married, build a future. Moreover, she deserved better. She would have to risk losing him in order to keep him. But who could she turn to for help?
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Brennan stood back from the group and watched. Angela and Hodgins were having a party at their house for the holiday. It was a small gathering of about two hundred and fifty - mostly Angela's friends but the whole crew from the Jeffersonian were in attendance as well.
"Hey Tempe," called Jack. He still hadn't gotten used to calling her by her first name. "There is a balloon toss going on in the south lawn, we need another pair of hands." Of course the balloons were not filled with water, they will filled with a liquid that would stain the skin bright purple for days - the same kind banks use to mark stolen money. Hodgins little joke.
"Sure," she said with very little interest. She had really tried to join in, to not refuse invitations and to actually be interested in the people around her. She had seen the advantages when she was in Indonesia but it still wasn't something she was comfortable with.
"Dr. Brennan," Sweets said. He had come out of the house behind her. She didn't know he was coming. "Dr. Brennan, it's good to see you." They hadn't spoken since she had been back. Daisy Wick had gotten bit by something in the jungle and had to leave three months into the expedition. She didn't come back. Brennan had heard that she and Sweets never got back together. Daisy accepted a position in New York at the Natural History Museum.
"Dr. Sweets," Brennan turned to him. "It is also nice to see you."
Sweets of course had been made aware of all that had happened, with Booth anyway. Little was known about what happened to Brennan, but he had also heard that she had changed. He had no idea how to start a conversation with her. He knew his book had had an impact on the partnership and he worried that it was the defining event that had propelled them to walk away from each other. Brennan had never said anything to him about what happened after they had told him about their first case together, but he could guess by what Booth had said. "I gambled and lost. Thanks a lot Sweets. What I get for listening to a twelve-year-old."
Since Sweets was clearly dumbfounded, Brennan started. "There is a balloon toss on the south lawn."
"Would you like to be my partner?" Sweets asked.
"Sure," she said evenly.
"How have you been?" he asked as they walked toward the event.
"Fine, Fine ... working very diligently."
"Your paper?"
"Should be complete in the next week or so, and I am back to work at the Jeffersonian."
"I hear Booth is back at the FBI, but I haven't seen him."
Brennan's jaw clenched. She would never again talk to Sweets about Booth or anything to do with the state of their relationship. "I understand Daisy took a position in New York, do you two still communicate?"
Sweets got the message quickly. He was not her therapist, and he had no right to ask such personal questions. Daisy and Sweets were not in contact. She had left him twice. Sweets had been alone since then. It was a very sore subject. "Message received, Dr. Brennan."
"I don't know what that means," she said automatically but she knew.
They took their positions with the rest of the people for the balloon toss. Brennan noticed that Jack seemed a little too amused at the prospect of this game and Angela seemed annoyed by his amusement. On the third toss, Brennan tossed just a little too high. Sweets would have said that it was no accident. He put his hands up in front of his face to catch the balloon and it spattered all over him. His hands, his chest and his face were all splattered with purple dye. His was the first to break. Everyone holding a balloon saw the mess and tossed it hard at their partner. Lots of laughing and screaming. Sweets was not entirely amused. Brennan smiled and nodded. She was satisfied with the result. Parties could be cathartic she concluded.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Booth lay awake with Elizabeth sleeping next to him. It was a familiar scene and one that was getting harder to play. His mind reeled. He thought about the boys in his unit. The ones he was commanding. The ones he sent to their deaths.
Kenny "Buck" Buchman - 20, New Jersey, plumber's apprentice in the family business, unmarried but loved his women.
Harold "Spider" Torrance - 19, Los Angeles, two younger sisters that he sent all his money home to, parents were dead. They called him spider cause he moved so fast.
Joe "Java Joe" Coffee - 19, Michigan, hated coffee, wife with baby number one on the way.
Anthony "T-Man" Jefferson - 22, Oregon, had five older brother all deceased. Two in the first Gulf War, the other three in Iraq.
Josh "Sticks" Drummond - 23, Washington, twin sons and a wife voted "hottest girl back home".
Jorge Ortega - 21, Miami, musician and practical joker. Only his mom at home.
Good guys, the lot of them: smart, dedicated, funny and tight. Really, really tight. They were a cohesive group when Booth was assigned to them. They accepted Booth warily at first, but after a week, he was their natural leader. They had seen a lot of action together and Booth was making them better. They weren't supposed to be there that day. They actually had the day off - as much as you can have a day off in a war zone. They were headed out to their next destination. Booth saw the truck first. The intent of the insurgent was clear. There were hundreds of civilians and service men in the target building. The driver was taken out with one shot, but the truck kept coming. They had to stop him by any means necessary.
"Intercept," Booth yelled. "GO! GO! GO!" KA-BOOM!
Booth was standing before he knew it. Heart was racing, sweat pouring down into his eyes. The pain in his back was debilitating.
"Babe," Elizabeth sat up in bed. "Babe, are you alright?"
"Fine," he tried to recover. "Fine, just can't sleep. I'll get out of here so I don't keep you up."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Nothing to talk about, hon." He pulled on his shorts. "Will just read for a while in the living room."
"If you are sure," she said.
"Go back to sleep, hon."
He slipped out of the room and sunk down into the chair by the window. He wiped his face with his hands and pressed hard on his eyes. He just wanted to images to stop swirling. He leaned his head back, closed his eyes. He saw her face. His eyes shot open again. He would read.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
The next day Elizabeth Darrow found herself at the Jeffersonian being directed to Dr. Temperance Brennan's office. She wasn't sure what she would say and she had no idea the reaction she would get. Seeley didn't speak of Dr. Brennan. He answered her questions (when she had them) and she knew he was telling the truth because sometimes the answers were hurtful, but he never initiated the conversation and he didn't say anything to be mean. It was simply the truth. When asked, Seeley told her that Brennan and he were partners (it felt more present tense than past). When pushed he said that if Brennan were ever in trouble, he would drop what he was doing and help her. When pressed further, he informed Elizabeth that if Brennan's life was threatened - he would kill or die to protect her. He added that he would do the same for Elizabeth and he pointed out that Brennan was no longer a part of his life or his future. The only questions he did not answer were love questions: had he been and/or was he still in love with her? A point blank question netted no answer - literally. Elizabeth didn't take that to mean that he was, she took it to mean that he didn't know, and that the truth of that question was immaterial to how he would proceed with the rest of his life. She knew that Seeley was an honorable man, and because of that she believed that Temperance Brennan was not a threat to her relationship with Seeley. But she also knew that Seeley was not the man he used to be. He was not whole. Before she could commit to a marriage, to a lifetime, he had to be whole again, or as whole as he could be and Dr. Brennan was her best hope at getting him back.
"Dr. Brennan?" Elizabeth asked standing in Brennan's doorway.
Brennan and Hodgins were reviewing some findings. She looked up and recognized Elizabeth right away. Her heart froze; something had happened with Booth. "Yes." She stood up immediately. Hodgins stepped back.
"I am Elizabeth Darrow. I am -."
"I know who you are, Ms. Darrow."
"May I speak with you?" She glanced at Hodgins. "Privately."
Brennan nodded at the wide-eyed Hodgins signaling him to go.
"Sure, sure ... we can finish this later." He stepped out but kept looking back at the two women.
Brennan motioned for them to move to her couch.
"Thank you for speaking with me. There was no one else I could talk to." Brennan waited. "I know that you and Seeley were close."
"We are partners, nothing more," she assured Elizabeth.
"Seeley still considers you his partner too."
"We haven't spoken, Ms. Darrow," she defended. "Not since we met - by accident - six weeks ago."
"You saw him since he has been back?" Elizabeth was surprised. She would have thought Seeley would have mentioned it.
"Yes, just the once. We only spoke for five minutes."
"Tell me ... is he the same? I mean is he the same man as he was?"
Brennan looked down and shook her head. "I imagine no one can be the same after experiencing what he has experienced."
"You know what happened? I mean you know the details? Did he tell you? He has never spoken of it to me."
"It is not Booth's way," she explained. "He did not speak of it to me." Brennan knew the details because she had read the After Action report. Brennan had used her clearance to get her hands on a copy right after Booth sent her away. She knew what he had done. She knew what happened. She knew that his actions saved many civilians and military personnel. Unfortunately six men lost their lives and Booth was injured quite severely. She suspected that time would help him accept the loss and appreciate that his actions were correct in light of a horrific circumstance and loss of life. Apparently he had not fully dealt with it evidenced by the fact that his fiancée was in her office.
"No, he doesn't talk to anyone. He doesn't sleep at night. He barely eats. He goes through the motions, but - I didn't know him before so I can't really judge, but I feel him drifting further away."
"Why are you here, Ms. Darrow?" Brennan asked earnestly.
"I want him to seek professional help, but he said something about having a bad experience with a psychologist." Brennan nodded. She didn't blame Sweets entirely, but he certainly was a player in all that had happened up to the point when they went their separate ways. "Maybe you could speak with him?"
Brennan shook her head. She could not help Booth. He wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't allow it now any more than he allowed it when he was lying in the hospital bed, but there was someone who might. "I will speak with someone who will contact Booth."
"What do I do in the mean time?"
"I imagine that you care for him very much."
"Yes," she said without affect. "More than I expected I would."
Brenna was puzzled by her comment. Did Elizabeth love Booth? She shook the thought away, it was not her place to question that. "Then you are doing all you can, Ms Darrow."
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Brennan entered the busy kitchen just before the restaurant opened. She was nearly bowled over by a bus boy carrying a tub of flatware to the dining room at very high speed. Chef Wyatt was in the corner barking orders. He looked harried and frazzled. She had never seen him look like that, but then again she normally didn't notice. She waited until he looked like he was done and put up a hand to get his attention.
"Dr. Brennan," he called in his sing-song way. "Lovely to see you." She crossed the kitchen. "Do you have your dashing partner with you? Are you joining me for dinner?"
"No," she stated. "May I speak with you on a matter of some importance?"
He looked around the kitchen. "It is rather a bad time, as you see."
"Booth's fiancée is worried that he is suffering from post traumatic stress from the incident in Afghanistan and should be seeking professional help. Would you speak with him?"
Gordon Wyatt was completely taken aback. Clearly the ex-Dr. Wyatt had missed a lot in the time since he last spoke with Booth and Brennan: Afghanistan? PTSD? Fiancée? "Dr. Brennan," he explained. "As I have insisted repeatedly, I am no longer a psychiatrist. Not a professional who can provide that kind of help to Booth or anyone else." It wasn't that he was unconcerned about Booth; nor was the seriousness of her assertions lost on him. However, if any part of what she said were true, then Booth really did need to see a professional for extended care.
"He trusts you. Please meet with him … form your own opinion. Help him," she pleaded.
Dr. Wyatt had never seen Brennan so impassioned. "And pray, what is your own opinion?"
"I don't know psychology," she professed without the typical distain that she had exhibited in the past. "I am not qualified to form an opinion as I have only observed Booth once in person since recovering from his injuries. We have had almost no contact in the past several months. However his fiancée seems quite concerned."
"Clearly there have been changes to your partnership."
Brennan looked nervous. "Yes."
"Do you hold yourself responsible for this state of affairs in some way?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"No, of course you don't." Wyatt was shaking his head. "I don't think I am your man, Dr. Brennan. I suspect that Dr. Sweets would better serve you."
"I can't go to Sweets," she protested. "All of this was his fault."
"Come now Dr. Brennan, you don't truly believe that."
"He was a factor," she asserted. "Please, Dr. Wyatt."
"Alright, alright. I will meet with him … over dinner. Bring him in some night soon and I will talk to him."
"Booth won't like that. He will feel betrayed. Is there no way you would consider seeking him out?"
"Booth will know that someone contacted me either way."
"Agreed … I will suggest to Elizabeth – his fiancée - that he contact you directly." She considered if there was anything else she wanted to say and decided not. "Thank you Dr. Wyatt. Thank you for speaking with me." She turned to leave.
"Dr. Brennan," he called her back. "You do not want to give me any more details?"
"No," she stated. "You need to be objective. I have already said too much."
"Dr. Brennan," he called her back one more time. "And how are you dealing with all this fallout?"
"Fine, I am fine." She left abruptly.
"Of course you are." A look of disappointment crossed his face. A tray of dishes crashed to the floor behind him and he was back to being Chef.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
The evidence had been checked, double checked and triple checked. She found herself thinking about what would Lister do. How would Lister interpret the evidence. She didn't do this part. She was the one who found the facts, he was the one who put them together to form a picture. How could she do that without him? How was she going to find the man responsible without his help?
"Dr. Reichs," her assistant said from her doorway. "The hospital is on line one."
Her heart froze. "Reichs," she barked into the receiver. "I'm on my way."
