9.
Hope this is still going well. I fussed over this part quite a bit, thus the delay.
The team investigates the case trying to find the remaining gang members. Agent Landry loses his cool while transferring DJ-D and drops the secret that Sweets is alive.
"Booth?" Brennan asked when she hadn't heard anything on the other end of the phone.
"Yeah?" Booth said in a muffled voice, his head on his desk.
"I heard what happened."
"Ugh." Booth said now utterly exhausted. "Why does new travel so fast? Guess no chance of reversing that now." Booth added sitting up.
"No doubt word travels fast everywhere." Brennan said and Booth knew what she meant.
"Yeah I've got two officers on Sweets room."
"We've discovered the identities of two more gang members based on a print on the toe of Sweets Converse and another set on the bat." Brennan informed him.
Booth knew that was still four. He could round those three up and put them in jail along with DJ-D but it still left a few loose cannons on the street. He could pressure them for names but chances are they wouldn't break, they all had a part in the beating and each could be tied to it. Even if one had immunity for rating out the others that one would know a price would be on his own head. "Mum" was the ultimate word in that crowd.
"So what do we do?" Brennan asked at the long silence.
"We keep digging and we keep Sweets safe."
"But Sweets can ID them." Brennan said rationally.
"I know Bones. I know." Booth said knowing that was the one route he didn't want to take, but he didn't to take it just yet.
The first week went by with Cam, Brennan and Angela visiting Sweets. Most of the time he slept either for real or to avoid conversation with them. For the most part he really was tired and exhausted with the pain medication he was on but in his mind he didn't want to talk to anyone.
Booth kept busy night and day with the case, chasing down any lead. Hodgins and Arastoo poured over every fiber of Sweets clothes until there was nothing left and then they started over again. Bridges and Stalcup monitored all the activity in the gang's territory but for the moment everything was quiet, everyone was lying low. The agents were undercover but as well, very little was happening until the attention drew low and then they would be ready. Still, everyone could feel it was the calm before the storm.
By the second week after that night, Sweets was transferred to another room, this one the opposite end of the nurse's station. The doctor's discussions changed from monitoring vitals to plans for rehabilitation soon.
"Isn't that great news Dr. Sweets?" Cam asked sitting next to bed as he shared the news with her. Sweets offered a smile and nodded.
Sweets had found that smiling and nodding were the answer to nearly every situation. At first the sleep was welcome, it gave breaks between the constant pain. If his shoulder didn't hurt then his leg did, if that didn't at the same time his chest did then his arms begged for his attention. It all added up to more exhaustion just trying to deal with the pain. What made it worse was when the ABC's came bouncing in the room with flowers or smiles or whatever else was lying around to bring in.
If he slept too much they were worried. If he didn't respond to their questions, they were worried. This must have prompted a conversation with Booth, who came in worried. Sweets was exhausted enough in dealing with his own pain to worry over their worry. So now he smiled and nodded and compartmentalized the pain as best as he could.
"Yes, that is great news." Sweets said smiling and nodding to the doctor. "When will that happen?"
"Next week I think, if you're up to it." Dr. Phillips said. "We'll start small, lifting things with your hands and such. We'll do only what you're comfortable with." He promised.
Sweets looked to Cam who looked as excited as child going out for sports. Truth was he felt about as ready as a corpse for burial but he didn't want to disappoint, or worry her so he smiled and nodded and said that was fine.
Excited Cam left to call everyone to share the news. Sweets watched as she left and caught a glimpse of the officer by his door. Sweets didn't know exactly what was going on but he knew that always having a cop by the door couldn't be good. He wondered if the sooner he left the hospital, the sooner things could calm down. In order for him to leave the hospital he'd have to get around faster. In order to get around faster he was going to need some help.
"Doc, am I ready for this?" Sweets asked, fishing for a specific purpose.
"Well, I'll admit I'm a bit concerned about some of your injuries. That's why I hope to start small. I'll disclose that your friends are very worried about you. They think if you keep busy you'll feel better."
Sweets knew their intentions were well placed. Sweets was known to work a good 70 hour work week on any given week and weekends. He didn't care to disclose to them his lack of desire to return to work. Instead he smiled and nodded when they rattled on about cases and Hodgins talked about bugs. He knew they were tense around him though some of the bruises had faded some. He tried his best to appear fine so they would relax and not worry.
"So, am I ready for this?" Sweets asked again having not gotten an answer.
"That answer is best answer by you Dr. Sweets. Are you?"
No. Sweets wanted to answer. I'd much rather you ended what that gang started and kill me now. Tell me doc, what are your feelings on euthanasia? Instead Sweets gathered that the doc was willing to bend to Sweets suggestions, this was going to be easy Sweets realized.
"I think I am doc. I'd like to get out here, get back to normal." Sweets lied. "But I'm feeling a little…" Sweets pretended to search for the right words.
"Sluggish?" The doctor asked.
"Yes, I think that would be it." Sweets smiled and nodded. "I feel like I want to get going but I feel a little pressure." Sweets smiled at the word motioning to his joints.
"Ah, well we can get a prescription for that." Dr. Phillips said jotting down some notes.
Sweets smiled and nodded as though he had no idea that was a possibility.
"Yes, I think that would help." Sweets said, glad that was as easy as he thought it might be.
The third week found Sweets at rehab. He insisted that he could do more if they all were busy with work and let him do his work. He saw their faces fall as they felt rejected but the thought of Cam or even worse Booth standing by while he took baby steps across the room was too much to deal with on top of all the pretending.
Booth still spent late nights at the office tracking the activity of the gang. Sweets was due to leave rehab in a week having exceeded the doctor's expectations of him. Booth has reserved feelings that Sweets was possibly pushing himself too hard or maybe Brennan had just misread the x-rays and charts so that Sweets wasn't as bad as they had thought. He somehow doubted Brennan was wrong. Still, with no activity from the gang, Booth's once supportive boss in regards to Sweets protection saw no reason to keep a guard outside Sweets' residence once he was discharged. Since that discussion Booth had put in even later nights to find the remaining gang members still on foot.
With only days left, Booth headed to see Sweets to talk about the one thing he didn't want to have to talk about.
"Hey Booth!" Sweets said smiling and nodding as Booth came in the common area room. Sweets was sitting in a wheel chair at table looking at a laptop. Sweets stopped typing as Booth sat down.
"Hey, you're almost back to your old self." Booth said with a smile of seeing Sweets. "Working on some profiles for me?" Booth joked as he went to look at what Sweets was typing.
Sweets quickly shut the screen and smiled. "No, not yet, just some exercises to work on my dexterity." Sweets smiled and nodded so Booth wouldn't worry and put him stiff and distorted hands in his lap. Sweets shut the screen so Booth did not see the fact that on the typing test Sweets wasn't able to hit a single key leaving only garbled words on the screen.
"How's it coming?" Booth asked, his gut telling him something was awry.
"Great. Really, really good." Sweets lied. He knew the doctor was going to check his dexterity test soon and having failed would not be good marks. Sweets devised a plan to remedy this situation but first was pulled back into the conversation with Booth.
"Sweets, I stopped by, not only to see you, but I need to talk to you about something."
Sweets recognized Booth's discomfort and wondered what it was. A stinging pain ran thru his own chest. Great timing he said to himself as he tried to smile thru it.
"Sure Booth, what can I help with?" Sweets asked smiling and nodding.
Booth hated that Sweets had to help him with it. He wanted to solve this case and walk up to Sweets and say, "hey kid, nothing to worry about, it's taken care of." Now he had to say something much the opposite.
"That night, when uh, everything happened." Booth began and Sweets knew what he meant after a moment. He had tried not to think about it himself. He was pretty busy concentrating on the constant pain and how to hide it from everyone.
"Yeah well, we found one of the guys right away, and then a couple more but uh, you see, you're the only one who can ID them."
"So that's why there's been an officer outside my room for the last four weeks." Sweets said understanding.
"Yeah, I didn't want it to freak you out." Booth said with a small smile.
Freak me out? Hell, I'd be happy to have someone finish the job. Sweets thought to himself instead he smiled and nodded.
"No, Booth, I understand and appreciate it."
"Well, the thing is, we haven't heard anything from the gang. And when you leave here at the end of the week, well I can't get the bureau to cover another officer."
Sweets was suddenly looking forward to leaving at the end of the week. He knew that was an incredibly dark death wish but he really didn't care much.
"Well I wouldn't worry about it Booth, they've probably moved on." Sweets said hoping the agent would drop it.
"I don't think so Sweets. I've got agents out there. They lost you once we got you out of the hospital and here but they'll find out when you go home. So I figured out what we can do, you can stay with me and Bones!"
Booth smiled, not like the last night when Booth reluctantly asked Sweets to stay with them. This time it was Sweets who was horrified at the suggestion.
"Oh, Agent Booth, thank you so much for the suggestion." Sweets said with a big fake smile. "But I don't want to do that, you have a family to run, and I'm sure I overstayed my welcome last time."
Booth was beginning to object but Sweets kept talking.
"Besides, I really think I need to get back to life you know. Work, and just a regular routine." Sweets said nodding as he said them. He had little idea of what he was going to do once he left. He had tried to mention not doing psychiatry anymore but this worried the team so he said he was just kidding. They bought it, hook, line and sinker.
"I guess if the idea is so horrible." Booth said, Sweets knew his feelings were hurt. He wondered if it was as bad as the throbbing going off in his head. He needed Booth to leave soon.
"No, it's not horrible Booth." Sweets offered with a smile. What's horrible is that my head is melting, now please leave so I can thrash it into the wall leaving myself unconscious. "I truly appreciate it. I just want for life to get back to normal. Now, what did you need me to do?"
"Do you remember much about that night?" Booth asked and Sweets felt the conversation just get longer. He wasn't going to make it at this rate.
"Um, maybe, could you hold on a second though Booth, I'm supposed to do something at two." Sweets said standing up.
"Whoa, Sweets you okay on your feet?" Booth said as the man wavered for a second.
"Yeah, I just stood up too fast." Sweets said offering a smile.
He quickly walked out of the room and Booth nodded noticing that Sweets got around pretty well. What he didn't know is that every step shot pain thru Sweets entire body that begged him to stop or slow down. When Sweets had enough of them he could trick his body into not knowing the pain it was in. The pain killer was wearing off and his body was becoming aware of it. He had to dissuade it again and found the bottle in his room, nearly empty. The dose suggested one, he took two usually but decided for this conversation three were in order.
He stood for a second letting them dissolve in their system and was thankful for their quick reaction. He walked with ease back to the common room and sat this time in a chair across from Booth, discarding the wheel chair. He didn't like looking like an invalid and at the moment he didn't feel like one.
"So, that night, do you remember what they looked like?" Sweets thought about it for a moment. There were few faces he could forget in his lifetime. The happy faces of his adoptive parents, Booth & Brennan, Cam, Angela - he had spent much time studying them and their reactions so he knew them well. He also studied the faces of his foster father, a face he would associate with those faces of violence that night.
"Well, there was uh, Barry. You know him."
"Oh." Booth said as though remembering something.
"What?"
"I hadn't been able to tell you earlier Sweets, I'm sorry." Booth began as Sweets searched his face for answers. "Barry was killed the next day, after that night."
Sweets was shocked. Emotions hit him quickly as he tried to process them all as the pain medication began to fail him.
"I thought he uh, I thought it was a trap. Did he uh…" Sweets wondered if his anger had been misplaced. He thought he clearly recalled that night where Barry sold him out.
"No, he did, he lured you there. He admitted it to me. The rest of them, they wanted to prove a point." Booth waited for the information to sink in for Sweets. He knew it was a soft topic point and had practically forgotten it in the passing weeks.
"Yeah, well I guess that's one down." Sweets said in a tone that suggested he didn't mean it. What a freggin' waste that was, Dr. B was right, psychology is stupid. Wait, did we talk about that? Sweets rubbed his head as he thought he recalled her saying something to him. Worried glances from his friends filled his head, the perception of a failed career, and a dead kid he couldn't help/
"Sweets?" Booth asked concerned.
"Yeah?" Sweets said trying to mentally place the pain in a box and bury it deep.
"Uh, I don't remember Booth. It was dark and a blur." Sweets lied, he saw every face he saw that night. He wanted Booth to go, now. "Sorry I can't help."
Booth knew Sweets a long time and had learned from him, just as Sweets had learned from him. He knew Sweets was lying but he wasn't going to push him, the poor kid had gone pale since he had brought it up.
"Okay Sweets, I just thought I would ask. I'll figure something out."
Sweets nodded though he hadn't heard a word Booth had said. It all came out like one big blob of words. He smiled and nodded and said goodbye.
Sweets sat for a moment and thought of Barry, him trying to help and then that night. He was so deep in thought he didn't see the rehabilitation doctor come in.
"Dr. Sweets?" He asked gaining Sweets attention. Sweets smiled and nodded.
"Yeah, sorry Dr. Rogers, I was thinking about the uh, that uh…"
The older doctor sat next to him in the seat Booth had vacated.
"Son, are you feeling okay? I'm concerned you're pushing yourself a bit too hard."
"Oh, no doc it's fine." Sweets said wording everything just right. Sweets went to get up when his knee buckled. The doctor pulled the wheelchair closer and scooped Sweets in it.
"Does it hurt son?" He asked but knew the answer based on Sweets squished up face.
"Yeah. But it's okay, I can handle it." Sweets said brushing him off.
"No, no, there's no reason for that. Let's increase the dosage." The doctor said scribbling something down. "Let's get you back to your room and I'll be there in a bit."
Sweets smiled while one of the nurses pushed him back to his room. He still had his prescription from the hospital and Dr. Phillips and now he had just earned another higher dosage from Dr. Rogers. All in a day's work Sweets smiled to himself.