Just a Kid
by Rondabunny
Friday, Hospital, 19:20
Brennan stormed into the room with a huge bag in her hand.
"Why aren't you ready yet?"
"Good evening to you too, Dr. Brennan," replied the girl stretching her right arm lazily.
"Come on. Stand up, put on your clothes," insisted Brennan gathering Irene's books into a pile and putting them into the bag.
"What for?" asked the girl giving Brennan the book she was reading.
"Today's Friday, remember? We're going home."
"Home?" girl jumped with surprise. "Where is a social worker?"
"Why do you need a social worker to take you to my place?" asked Brennan taking jeans and a shirt from the built-in-closet and tossing them to Irene.
"But you said…" told Irene chewing on her bottom lip.
"I said what?" Brennan turned and stared at Irene.
"Nothing. Can you turn around while I'm putting on the shirt," asked the girl. Brennan crossed the room in two strides and approached the bed. "I told to turn around not to stare at me!" the girl said looking at Brennan.
"Let me help you with that gown," said Brennan reaching out to take it off of teenager. Irene put her plastered hand closer to her body.
"I can do it myself!"
"I can do it faster. It is really hard to get out of the gown with only one arm working," said Brennan stretching her arms towards the girl.
"No! Leave me alone!" said the girl nearly screaming.
"Why? What's a big deal? The corset conceals almost half of your body, besides I'm the same sex as you are. It's nothing to be ashamed of," explained Brennan. The girl sat silently for a while and then put up her hands as she could with one of them in a plaster and her foster-parent took off the gown from her body. Brennan took the shirt and started to dress up the teen. She buttoned the shirt and wanted to put on the jeans but suddenly gasped. A horrible scar crossed Irene's left thigh.
"How did that happen?" asked Brennan.
"Ah, it's nothing to worry about," said the girl slipping her legs into the jeans.
"It's not an answer to my question," Brennan reprimanded. The teen sighed.
"What do you want to hear? My mom's boyfriend got drunk. I was in the kitchen cooking soup for my little brother. The guy asked me to make him a cup of coffee. I said that I can't do it right now, because only one ring on the stove was working. He got angry, took the pan and tossed it on the floor. I was too lucky to stand in its way. Then I took off my panty hose together with my skin. End of the story." She zipped her jeans and slipped into her shoes. Brennan was stunned with the cold Irene just described her that horrible story. She didn't know what to say. Her parents have never hurt her.
Irene put the bag on her shoulder. "Are we going?"
"Yes, give it to me," replied Brennan taking the bag from the girl.
Brennan's apartment, 9:00
Rays of the sun sneaked into the room leaving sunlight spots on the wall. Brennan opened her eyes reluctantly trying to shake off her sleep. She wanted to have a lie-in as long as possible but she remembered the girl who was probably awake by now and maybe starving. Brennan dragged out of the bed, put on her dressing gown and went to the living-room. Everything was silent. She walked into the kitchen and switched on the coffee machine and headed to Irene's room. She stopped at the door and knocked.
"Come in, please," the voice sounded behind the door. Brennan entered the room and found Irene sitting on the floor near the neatly done bed. The textbook and a copy-book were on the side of the bed. Teen used the bed as a desk. She was writing something in the copy-book when Brennan came in.
"You know, people invented a table thousands of years ago to sit upright," said Dr. Brennan.
"Yeah, first tables were within knee level and kneeled scribes wrote on them," the girl commented.
"How'd you know?" asked Brennan surprised.
"It is comfortable to write this way," the girl answered standing up.
"Would you like to have breakfast?" asked Brennan.
"It'll be nice. I'll help you with it," said Irene leaving the room.
"How can you possibly help me with only one hand working?" Brennan chuckled.
"Believe me I can, besides, I'm a right-handed person."
They came into the kitchen and Irene looked into the fridge with disappointment. She found there only lettuce, ketchup, beer, jam and bread.
"You don't eat at home do you?" asked the girl putting bread and lettuce on her plastered arm and covering it with her right hand she closed the door of the fridge with her foot.
"Why? No, sometimes when I come late from work I eat at home. It's because of the weekend. I buy food for a week at the weekend. I'm mostly all the time at Jeffersonian, that's why…" She hasn't finished the sentence.
"I got it. I'm not a great lover of lettuce but if there's no sausage, it will be fine for me. I eat almost everything," told the girl. Irene took a slice of bread, poured some ketchup on it and covered everything with a leaf of lettuce. She did it very quickly and asked Brennan if she wants a sandwich. Bones agreed and poured a cup of coffee to herself and took another cup for Irene.
"No," the girl stopped Brennan. "Thanks, I don't drink coffee. It's bitter, I don't like it."
"You've said you eat almost everything," told Brennan mockingly.
"I said "eat" not "drink"," Irene countered.
"Fine." Brennan sat at the table. "What are your plans for today?"
"I take a bath, call my teachers at school to find out about homework and do the homework," said the girl eating her sandwich.
"First, you won't go to that school again, and second, how are you going to take a bath?"
"First, I go to that school no matter what, 'cause I've already lost two weeks. Second, I go to the bathroom, pour the water, get into the bathtub and soak there till I'm a prune," Irene mimicked.
"You won't go to that school. It's on the other part of the city and it'll take you at least an hour and a half to get there. We'll look through the brochures later and find you a good school not far from my house. Now, I'll help you to bathe," said Brennan.
"What! I'm not a child I can wash by myself!" said Irene angrily.
"You may moisten your plaster. Anyway, you can't wash properly with one hand. I'm your foster-parent. I'm supposed to take care of you."
"I'm not gonna take the bath in your presence!" Irene told stubbornly.
"Irene, anthropologically our bodies don't differ much. Your body is developing now. It is stupid to be ashamed of your nakedness. You come in this world naked. There are tribes in Africa…" Brennan hasn't finished her sentence.
"Don't hand me that crap about anthropology and Africa! You're f*****g pedophile! Don't even think about me undressing in front of you! Bitch!"
Brennan hasn't even time to react as Irene stormed out of the kitchen and slammed the door to her room shut. She was a forensic anthropologist, a genius but she didn't know how to behave with kids, especially, teens. Nobody called her those names the girl did one minute ago. Nobody since she'd left that disgusting foster-care system where adults took children just for fun and then threw them away as broken toys. She walked into the living room and dialed Booth's number. He was the only person who knew at least something about children.
"Seeley Booth," hoarse voice answered at the other end.
"Good morning, Booth, I need a piece of advice."
"Oh, Bones, I've just woke up," said Booth stretching his legs under the sheets.
"What? It's nearly 10 a.m., lazybones!"
"Hey, I'm not bones. You're Bones and my bones aren't lazy!" Booth chuckled.
"Have you ever washed Parker?" asked Brennan.
"Washed Parker? Yes, I did several times. Why do you ask?" Booth was puzzled.
"Irene wants to take a bath, but she can soak her plaster, so I told her that I'll help her. She yelled at me, called me a pedophile and went to her room," explained Dr. B.
"She called you what?! I definitely have to talk to that girl! Look, Bones. I come to you and we decide what to do with that kid. Just wait for me!" said Booth putting down the receiver.
Brennan's apartment half an hour later
Brennan opened the door to find Booth standing there.
"So, there's the girl?" asked Booth stepping inside.
"In her room. She locked the door and I can't get in," answered Brennan.
Booth approached Irene's room and knocked at the door. It was silent. He called but nobody answered.
"Irene, I tell you one last time open the door or I break it! Don't try my temper!" said Booth angrily.
Nothing happened. The door was shut and everything was quiet. Booth asked Brennan to step aside and leaned on the door but it opened with ease and agent found himself lying on the floor.
"So, what do you want do?" asked Irene giggling. Brennan looked at her partner trying to contain her laughter.
"You think it is funny, huh?" he asked standing up and taking a pillow in his hands. "It's fun to watch a man falling down." He approached Brennan and hit her with the pillow. She was surprised by his strike but she took another pillow and smacked Booth throwing the pillow at Irene. The girl used her plaster as a shield. She took the pillow from the floor and threw it back on the bed cutting down the continuation of any fight that they might have been in.
"Ok, but I still need your advice," Brennan turned to Booth who seemed quite disappointed by girl's behavior.
"What can I say? She's not a baby. She can wash by herself. You can help her wash her back and her hair. That's all."
"You can't properly wash with one hand!" Brennan insisted.
"There are people with only one hand. They manage to wash themselves everyday without anybody interfering," answered Booth.
"It's amazing how you two decide what I have to do. Well, I like your suggestion about Dr. Brennan washing my hair. It's really hard to do with one hand and I don't need to take off my clothes, but I take a bath on my own. It means nobody will come in or even open the damn door into the bathroom. Is it a go?" asked Irene looking at both partners sitting on her bed.
"I appreciate it with only one observation. Don't ever say "damn" or any curse words. And remember if you soak that plaster, your arm will itch like hell," told Brennan standing up.
Booth's phone rang. It was his ex-wife telling him to take Parker for a weekend because she wanted to go somewhere with her new boyfriend. Booth excused himself and left the apartment.
Brennan's apartment, 12:00
Irene was trying hard to brush her hair. She pulled and pulled but it was impossible to brush her dreadlocks. Finally the girl growled and threw the brush on the floor. Bones watched girl's manipulations with interest as a scientist carrying out an experiment. When Irene was boiling with anger, Brennan stood up calmly and picked up the comb.
"Sit," The woman told the girl. She took the comb and started to brush the unruly hair.
"Leave it. It's useless!" muttered the girl while Brennan was fighting with her locks.
"Why did you do those disgusting dreadlocks? You have such beautiful curly hair," said Brennan trying to untangle an elf-lock.
"I didn't do it. This damn hair is stupid. It tangles every time!" Irene answered.
"Could you, please, don't use curse words."
"Why? Is it an anthropologically incorrect expression?" mocked the teen.
"No, curse words always existed in any culture…"
"Then give me an explanation why can't I use these words," demanded the girl.
"The developed societies forbid kids to use curse words. It's a rule of good behavior…" explained Brennan vaguely.
"It's stupid! It's not a reason. So, I'll use curse words whenever I like," replied Irene.
"If you do want to live here forget about such vocabulary."
"Hmmm. It's a good reason. I'll think about it."
Brennan put away the comb and said: "There are three elf-locks I can't untangle them. We need to cut them."
"Cut them. It's just hair," answered the girl.
"I'm not a hairstylist."
"Then give me scissors I'll do it myself," told the girl looking at Brennan. Bones shook her head, took the scissors and made a bob. She gave a mirror to Irene.
"Wow, thanks, I look like a clown. Never mind, I put on the cap and nobody will see this mess," said Irene giving back the mirror. Curly locks falling freely and covering the cheekbones made Irene's face look like the faces of people depicted in pictures of the 17th century.
"Don't you like it?" asked Brennan admiring her work.
"I don't like looking like a mop," Irene answered.
"You are a pretty girl like all teenagers you exaggerating about your appearance because you're growing up and your body's changing…" she couldn't finish the phrase.
"Yeah, blah-blah-blah. Are you going to feed me up with your reasoning or maybe we go and have a bite somewhere?"
"Yes, of course… Let's go," said Brennan taking her mobile phone and a wallet.
The Mall
They had a meal at a snack bar and then went shopping. It was really hard for Brennan to shop together with Irene. The girl refused to buy expensive things until Brennan emphasized the fact that it was her money they were spending and she would be the one to choose what clothes, writing tackles, a bag and other important things Irene needs.
"I don't wear skirts and dresses and I don't need them! I will never wear these things! A pair of jeans, few T-shirts and a hoodie is nice. You've already bought me clothes I don't need any more!" Irene tried to prevent her foster-parent from buying everything she saw on her way.
"Look, such a fine skirt. It'll fit you perfectly and it's long enough to hide the scar," said Brennan showing the skirt.
"Gee, if I didn't know that you're a forensic anthropologist I would say that you're a loony obsessed with buying things. What don't you understand in the phrase I don't wear that! You know what, I'm outa here. I'm tired. My ribs and arm are aching. I'm sick and I need a rest."
"Ok. I'll pay for the purchases. We have to buy food on our way home."
"Now you're talking!" told Irene heading towards the exit.
"We've bought almost everything for a week except meat," said Irene looking at their full loaded shopping card.
"I'm a veg. I don't eat meat," replied Brennan.
"Oh, come on!" said the girl disappointed. "It sucks! Maybe I'm a barbarian I like animals and I'm a carnivore."
"It's fine. You're teenager your organism needs fat, proteins and carbohydrates. You have to eat what you like, because you're growing up."
"This is a 'yes'? We'll buy meat?" asked Irene looking pleadingly at Brennan. Bones nodded.
Brennan went towards the checkout counter and suddenly she realized that she's going alone. She turned around to see where Irene was. The girl stood near the shelf with different soft toys. Bones walked back.
She approached the girl and asked: "Do you like anything?"
"No, let's go," Irene turned to leave.
"How about that squirrel? It looks quite lifelike," said Brennan pointing at the toy.
"It's boring," Irene disagreed.
"What do you like then?"
"That cat," told the girl pointing at a midsized, blue cat with violet stripes and bright, green eyes.
"Do you really like this awful toy?" asked Brennan with disgust looking at the unnatural color of a beasty furry cat.
"Look at him. He's sad," Irene answered.
"If I were looking like this toy I'd be upset too," replied Brennan. "Do you want this toy? Maybe you find something more adorable. How about this giraffe? It's pretty," said Bones taking giraffe and giving it to the girl.
"No, thanks. Let's go home." Irene turned away and walked towards the checkout counter pushing the shopping cart in front of her. Brennan shrugged her shoulders, got the cat and hurried to pay for the purchases.
Bones haven't even imagined that one dreadful toy could make a 13 year-old the happiest person in the world. Irene fussed over the cat which was immediately called 'Bebo' and took the most honorable seat on the pillow on Irene's bed. The toy was told all the sweet words the girl's ever heard in her life. "He" ran together with "his" owner about apartment and examined the rooms "he" would be living in. "He" saw all the new clothes and decided that some of them don't fit Irene's style. This cat became a part of the foster family Irene has been living in for now.
"A catholic school? Why do you want to go to a catholic school? Are you religious?" asked Bones going through the internet pages of the nearest schools in the district.
"It's not far from here. It's free of charge and it is mixed, so I won't go to a girl's school or something like that," she enumerated three reasons of her choice.
"I can pay for a private school. It even closer than that one and you'll have better teachers," Temperance opened another internet page on the screen. "Look, here you'll have more clubs and facilities to do sports."
"If you have forgotten, I'm in a plaster and a corset. That's why, thanks God, I don't have to go to PE classes at least for some time. I have never been good at any sport. I'm rather bad at mathematics and physics is also not my best point. I was raised in the slums. How do you think what chance I have to go to a private school with the marks I have? I'd rather go somewhere where I won't be a sore thumb." The girl told reasonably.
"You underestimate yourself. I saw your school report. It's quite impressive except sciences I guess, but biology and geography are pretty going pretty well. You're excellent in humanities, though."
"I don't wanna go to an ivy league school. I won't fit in there. Besides, I'm not here for a long time. I really appreciate what you're doing for me but when I get better I'll try to find a job. I am used to taking care of myself since four or five. I'll survive in any circumstances, of course, if nothing happens by chance like a car accident or a piano falling from the roof on my head," she tried to depict a smile on her face but it looked more like a sad ghost of it.
"You'll study scripture and you have to wear a uniform with a skirt every day," Bones mentioned to make Irene change her mind.
"It'll be the longest skirt in the group and the Bible is an intriguing book. So, why not?"
"As you wish. Tomorrow we'll go to that school. Don't blame me afterwards." Brennan warned the teen who just nodded in reply.
To be continued…