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A little jump back in time to when Booth had been in Desert Storm and after he had been rescued from the Republican Guard.
I don't own Bones.
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Irritated more than he was willing to say, Booth glared at the Major as the older man flipped through Booth's file.
Satisfied, Major Riley frowned as Booth shifted in his wheel chair, "I hear you don't take your pain medication like you should."
His feet throbbing, Booth clasped his hands in his lap, "They don't hurt that much."
Curious, Riley asked, "Why are you afraid of pain medicine?"
Stoically, Booth glanced at the closed door, "I'm not afraid of anything, Doc. I don't take the pills because I don't need them."
Crossing his legs, the Major placed his hand on his knee, "You're pretty tough by anyone's standards. Captured by the Republican Guard and tortured for four days. Do you know why they tortured you?"
A small smirk on his lips, Booth informed the psychologist, "They wanted information and I didn't want to tell them."
Leaning forward slightly, Major Riley asked, "Did you give them the information?"
"Hell no." Angry that he was being questioned, Booth insisted, "I knew the score. If I'd said anything . . . if I'd given them what they wanted they would have killed me. I wasn't about to give them a damn thing."
His curiosity about Booth growing, Riley remarked, "If you hadn't been rescued when you were I'm pretty sure they would have killed you even if you hadn't talked. The situation was pretty serious and I'm sure they'd have given up on you sooner or later."
Shrugging his shoulders, Booth responded, "I had to hold on. I knew my men would be looking for me. All I had to do was hold on long enough and it'd be over. It was worth the risk not to say anything. What they did to me was bad, but . . . ."
Uncrossing his legs, the Major asked. "But what? You certainly haven't received worse punishment. Your feet are broken. You've had two surgeries to fix them and you have another one scheduled next week."
"It's all relative, Doc." Shifting in his chair, Booth moved his right leg trying to find a comfortable position, "My old man beat the shit out of me on a regular basis. He broke a few bones once in a while just to make a point."
Shaking his head, Riley testily commented, "Being abused by your father wasn't the same as being deliberately tortured by a professional torturer. For four days you were beat mercilessly with no hope of reprieve. The only certainty you had is you were going to die sooner or later. Why not sooner?"
Snorting, Booth sneered, "Because they would have won and I couldn't let them. I play for keeps."
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Sitting in the chapel, Booth finished his prayer and crossed himself. Turning his wheelchair, he almost ran into a nun who was standing behind him, "I'm sorry, Sister. I didn't see you standing there."
Her smiled bright, Sister Mary stepped to the side, "I should have warned you. It was my fault."
Staring up at her, Booth smiled, "These wheelchairs should come with an alarm system. You know, it could beep when we back up and stuff like that."
Amused, Sister stepped forward and sat down on the pew next to Booth. "That's a wonderful idea. I wonder why they don't do that."
A twinkle in his eye, Booth replied, "Then they'd be too cool and everyone would want one."
Her laughter like a silver bell, the nun shook her head, "You're right. I know I'd be envious." Her smile disappearing, the Sister solemnly asked, "Did you get the answer you were looking for?"
Confused, Booth shook his head, "I don't know what you mean."
Shrugging her shoulders, Sister Mary explained, "When you were praying, did you get an answer?"
Wistfully, Booth replied, "I wish it was really that simple. Ask God and get a reply. It sure would make life easier."
"Or harder." Curious, the Sister asked, "Can I help you? I'm pretty a good listener. I'm not really good with answers, but I listen really well."
Her silver laugh floating around the room, Booth suddenly felt shy. "I was in Iraq when I got hurt. I was asking for a little help with the pain. I can't really take pain medicine because it makes me crazy or high so I have to try to make do with just a little. I usually take it at night so I can sleep."
Curious, Sister Mary asked, "May I ask how you were hurt?"
A little wary, Booth licked his lips and thought about his answer.
Embarrassed, the Nun stood up, "I shouldn't have asked that, I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone now."
Holding up his hand, Booth stopped her from leaving, "It's not like it's a secret, Sister. I was captured by the Republican Guard and tortured. They broke my feet and fractured my left ankle. They also broke my right leg and a few of my fingers. To add to it they punched me a lot."
Appalled, Sister Mary sat back down, "That's horrifying."
Agreeing, Booth nodded his head, "Yeah, but I didn't tell them anything. I knew that if I held out long enough someone would rescue me."
Fascinated, the sister remarked, "You had a lot of faith."
Shaking his head, Booth smiled, "No, I have experience. When I was a kid, I was going through some stuff and . . . and well, I was planning on killing myself. Just before I could do it though my grandfather saved me. Ever since then, if I'm in a tough spot, I think all I have to do it just bear what's going on and someone sooner or later someone will rescue me. If I give up too soon then that would just be stupid, right Sister? All I have to do is just put up with whatever shi . . . whatever stuff is happening to me and someone will eventually save me. Of course, if I can save myself I'll try, but if I can't I just need to hold out until help arrives. Do you see?"
Swallowing, Sister Mary licked her bottom lip, "Yes, I see."
The twinkle back in his eyes, Booth explained further, "It's worked so far, so it's a good rule. Of course, someday it might not work and I'll die waiting but at least I'm giving someone the chance to save me. Giving up would just be stupid."
Solemnly, Sister Mary replied, "You're right. It would be stupid."
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