Attn. wonderful readers, I'm sorry it took so long for me to update this, but I can't rush through writing a chapter, just to get it posted fast – because it does affect the quality. I like to take time for the story to develop naturally in my mind and take time to think it through as I write it.
I do hope that you find it worthy of the wait and I know it's not far into the heat of the story yet, but this is all stuff I can't just skip because this first couple of chapters show how Brennan is slowly becoming more and more in love with this man, her partner and best friend.
The Mistaken Identity - A post Gravedigger Story
Chapter 2
Friday Morning Inside Dr. Brennan's Office . . .
As Brennan finally finished reading the information in the file that had been given to her by Angela earlier that morning, she found herself going back through to read some sections again for a 2nd or 3rd time. The file had contained the full report in Booth's own words, describing what he had gone through in the 24 hours after he first disappeared. Surprised at the shocking detail with which he had described his ordeal, though there were bits of time that he couldn't account for – time the he was either unconscious due to various factors such as, the drugs, the taser and then later, the explosion. Or it might have been his mind's way of blocking some of the more traumatic details.
As Brennan had absorbed the black text splayed out on the pages before her, the words seemed further darkened by the horrific detail in which it was shared – the dangerous and yet courageous story as seen through the brown eyes of the most heroic person she had ever known.
She couldn't help but wonder how her partner had survived not only the mental anguish of knowing he had such limited and the disheartening number of set backs he endured running into one foiled escape attempt after another in the rigged ship. But how he also survived the physical strains that his body had endured while accomplishing tasks that would have most likely required at least two strong men to achieve.
Brennan thought back to her own kidnapping at the hands of the same Gravedigger, and at least she had the solace of having Hodgins there with her – someone to talk to, brainstorm with and someone with whom to console each other as they neared what may very well have been the end of their lives. Booth on the other hand, had to no one. No one to assist him with the tougher tasks that he really could have used help with. No one which to share the burden, no shoulder to lean on. Booth would have had to reach inside himself to find the determination to somehow get out of this alive - or die trying.
Then she found herself thinking about those incredibly tough things he had accomplished by himself. Tasks that Agent Perotta had told her, that even some other FBI Agents whom had experience working on ships like that in their Navy days, said they were in awe of the nearly impossible tasks their fellow comrade had completed by himself. Was it adrenaline that allowed Booth to incur the almost super human strength that he would have needed to do everything by himself? Or was it plain and simple determination from within?
Determination to get back to his Son Parker no matter what shape he was in at the end of it, Brennan knew that Booth would do anything to prevent leaving his boy without a Father. She knew that his feelings partially stemmed from his first hand knowledge of what it was like to grow up without an ideal Father. He had once told her that he made a promise to himself, only seconds after witnessing his Son's birth, and after cutting the umbilical cord that had been the infant's tether to safety, nourishment and peace – protecting him from all of the world's cruel dangers and inevitable disappointments.
The promise he made was, that he would risk his own life at any given moment for this child. He knew right then that it was all about his Son – he would protect him at all costs and would never lay a hand on him in anger – never! He had told her that he had hundreds of thoughts flowing through his mind during those few minutes after bringing this part of his own flesh and blood into the world.
She thought back to the recollection of his Son's birth that he had shared with her after a few drinks one night . . . "I don't know Bones, but there were so many things to think about when Parker was born, that I could barely control all of the thoughts . . . the excitement, the worry. I thought of how that the very next morning I would go to my Bank and immediately start a College savings account, I was bursting with excitement over all of the things he and I could do together, all the things I could teach him while sharing in the joy of being there as he experienced everything for his first time. I would teach him all about sports, and how to stand up for himself, and how he should respect his Mother and his elders, I would teach him about God and good morals - . . . and . . . about girls." ashe said that last word he was also flashing a seductive wink in Brennan's direction while sporting a huge, slightly drunken grin on his dimpled face.
He told Brennan, as the additional alcohol they had consumed that night turned into more of a truth serum and Booth became somber for a moment. He told her that he had also thought of how he would shield his son from harm at all costs, no child of his was going to have to deal with the things that Booth had to deal with – forcing him to grow up way too quickly in order to protect his Mother and his siblings, from their unruly, alcoholic and abusive Father.
His child would never have to carry the burden of so many physical and emotional scars, painful reminders of the traumas he had endured in his own childhood. No one had protected him – at least until his Grandfather finally stepped in.
Booth had stopped himself from telling her anything beyond that. Before he accidentally let it slip that the reason his Grandfather finally stepped in – was after Booth's Mother had contacted him with the news that his young Grandson had attempted to take his own life, in an effort to escape from the pressures that no child should ever have had to bare.
The only reason he had not died, although he was sick enough to feel like he was going to, was that he was too young to know just how to do it. He had seen it in movies where people swallowed numerous pills, but young Seeley had taken the only prescription bottle he could find in his Mother's medicine cabinet – a prescription bottle full of Prenatal Vitamins, as she had them leftover from when little Jared was born just quite a few years earlier, leaving her with tremendous guilt to this day over not having thrown them out well before this happened.
That caused Brennan to think about herself for a moment, she knew that she personally had decided against having children, partially from her own emotional scars of a not so perfect childhood. She wasn't going to be responsible for bringing another child into this world, and run the risk of them possibly having to some day deal with those same awful feelings of abandonment that she had been put through. She knew that the dangers that she and Booth were constantly running into, could very well kill her prematurely, unwillingly leaving her child to grow up with the same feelings of abandonment that she had felt. She and Booth were more alike that she had ever realized, from what they had each gone through in their childhoods, to everything they had been through together in the present time frame.
That is how she knew that Booth felt the same way – and there would be nothing that would deter his mission of getting out of there alive, solely (or so she thought) for Parker. Then she realized that it was most likely that somewhat possessed amount of sheer determination, probably combined with adrenaline, that had propelled Booth to break his way out of his steel floating prison at all costs, powered by his drive to get back to his Son – and she didn't realize but also to get back to . . . her.
That was the most logical explanation she could come up with to account for Booth's miraculous and single handed achievements aboard that ship.
She read in the report that her partner had nearly drowned inside the lowest bowels of the ship, far below the hull. Booth reported that after he had started to pry open one of the heavy steel doors that had to be at least 10 inches thick, his hope started to ebb as he was greeted by water that started quickly seeping through the barely opened door and the unbearable weight of massive amounts of extremely cold water that bullied the door until it gave way under the pressure - hitting Booth with the force of a car crash, savagely launching the Agent several feet backwards as the raging waters continued to rise.
It was apparent that the Gravedigger had rigged various parts of the ship knowing full well that Booth would surely regain consciousness with in the allotted 24 hour time restraints, and try to flee – ruining her chance of getting the ransom of evidence. Booth stated that he had nearly exhausted himself with the treading of water, waiting for the torrent of water to rise enough for him to get out through another potential exit – and eventually succeeding.
Further into the report Booth stated that his eyesight had been 'compromised' as he put it - leave it to Booth to try to downplay the singeing of his corneas and the burns, etc. He had no one to help guide him through the rest of the ship after his eyesight had been so drastically affected by the blast of the C-2 explosives. Having basically no eyesight, not to mention his other injuries sustained from the intrusive blast, would have slowed him down substantially she thought, wondering how he managed to even find his way at all.
But, there was something about his report, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. She noticed that every so often throughout the typed report, which had initially been tape recorded by Perotta while he was in the hospital, and the FBI had someone type it into a hard copy report. They had to type his taped statement word for exact word, even adding a heavy sigh, even the occasional 'um' here and there.
That is how Brennan noticed that every once in a while, Booth had used the word 'we' when describing certain events, such as prying open several heavy, sealed doors that were water and airtight as well as rusty, making them nearly impossible to open without assistance. Then Booth would immediately catch himself and quickly change the the 'we' to an 'I' and he did it again when referring to when he was working his way up stairwell after stairwell, though injured and still blinded from the explosion of the C-2. His exact words on tape and now on the typed version had been; "After I came to, having been knocked on my ass by our . . . (pause) by my close proximity to the explosive device, and discovering that I couldn't see, we then - . . . (short pause) I then . . . uh, I proceeded to use the bulkhead walls for support and also to help lead us - me, to any stairwell that was leading upwards."
She then quickly just wrote it off, she figured that the most likely explanation was that he was probably just used to always being with her, so it was habit for him to include her when he wrote his reports or statements, he was just used to saying 'we' all the time. As she finished reading the final page of Booth's official Statement, a statement that told her every detail of what he had been through, she slowly closed the folder. After reading this report, as painful as it was for her to read - she now felt in more awe of this man than she had ever felt before in regard to all that he had done to free himself - mainly just to get back to his Son, though deep down she knew it was also, to get back to her.
She decided to give her tired mind a rest and pushing the closed file to the side of her desk, she turned her attention back to her computer screen where she had been reviewing the list of evidence that had been uncovered in the Storage unit that Heather Taffet had rented under the alias name she had created for just that very purpose. She knew that Booth had some questions and that he would soon be asking her to show him everything she had on the evil Ms. Taffet.
Speaking of the devil, she saw the silhouette of someone out of the corner of her eye, standing in the doorway of her office.
"Hey." was all he said, leaning against the door frame.
"Booth! What - are - you doing here?! You promised me that you were going to rest today!" she said, rising from her desk and walking towards him. "You still look awful!" she added, grabbing his arm gently and forcing him over to the couch, noticing he was walking gingerly, most likely protecting his ribs. "Sit." she demanded.
"I am not a dog Bones – and you can't just tell people to SIT - first of all, because . . .well because it's rude." he smiled up at her, actually feeling a warmth from the nurturing way she was treating him – though he wouldn't admit that to her. No, after all, he was supposed to be a tough guy.
Brennan sat down beside him, taking in the colorful bruises on his face from when he had been blown against the bulkhead of the ship. The contusions were even more purple and green in color that yesterday – looking worse before they got better which was normal. "On no you don't Booth, don't think for one minute that you can change the subject and start talking about animals, it's not going to work on me." she scolded him. "Now answer my question, what are you doing here?!"
"Okay, okay, don't have a coronary. Yes, I said I would rest, but - I didn't say where I would rest." he laughed slightly at his clever excuse. Booth was a little taken aback by the tone of anger in her voice. He knew she wouldn't be very happy with him for being out and about so soon after . . . - but he hadn't expected her to be this mad.
Brennan wasn't sure why she was so angry, she realized that it wasn't really anger that she meant to convey towards Booth, it was actually worry. Worry over seeing him leaning against the door jam, unable to even stand all the way upright, most likely because of still being weak from everything that happened, plus the pain from his broken ribs, cuts and bruised chest - when it came right down to it she wasn't mad at him at all. Sweets would probably tell her that it was actually 'displaced anger' that she was experiencing. Redirecting her unresolved anger that in all actuality – should have been directed towards other people or circumstances that she hadn't yet confronted.
She thought about what really made her angry. She knew she had anger towards Heather Taffet - for obvious reasons, she knew that she was still angry with Hodgins for his role in this - which is basically what led to Booth being taken and forced to go through everything he went through, and finally, she was angry with the entire situation as a whole and she recognized the fact that she had been aiming this unresolved anger, towards the very one person whom actually deserved it the least . . . - Booth.
She also had to admit to herself that she was still afraid. Afraid that Booth might end up having setbacks if he did too much, too soon - or even worse, and she could not bear losing him again, not even temporarily! She had missed him seconds after she left his place that morning to head to work. These realizations made her soften her tone with him instantly.
She relaxed and smiled, rolling her eyes at his lame excuse – about not saying where he would rest, "Okay, fine Booth – but - don't think for a minute that I won't make you rest now that you are here. And believe me when I say this, I will have Hodgins and Wendell tie you to this couch if I have to." she further threatened.
"No no – trust me, you won't need to go that far. I will stay right here on this couch, I mean why would I complain when I get to be closer to you if I stay here?" Booth said looking at his stunningly beautiful partner, and in 'partner' he now meant it in every sense of the word. With that comment, anything left of Brennan's initial anger, melted away completely! She then listened patiently as he continued.
"Ok thaaanks Bones" he said, relieved that she hadn't stayed angry for too long. "Now, there is just one thing I need from you and I will let you get back to work."
"What?!! Booth, do you really think that is a good idea? Are you even up for that yet?" she asked him, obviously misinterpreting his meaning.
"Ooohhh dam! I don't know what you are referring to, but I like what I think you are referring to!" he said suddenly laughing and temporarily looking much more alert and less preoccupied.
"Actually Bones, what I meant was, I just need you to give me everything you have on the Gravedigger. Everything pertaining to my case, that storage unit and anything else." then he waited for what he knew was to come.
"Booth – trust me, I can understand your need to do that, because I felt the same way after my experience, but I just don't think it's a good idea for you to jump right back into focusing on . . . well, on that, (suddenly not even wanting to mention the case by name) on something so, sensitive and fresh" she said softening her voice.
"Bones, I have to do this, so please just humor me would you? There are some aspects of this case that just aren't sitting well with me and, I can't go another day without at least attempting to figure out what it is." Brennan could see a visible change in him, she could sense the stress he was under, worrying about bits and pieces of some of the details surrounding his own kidnapping, that he was struggling to remember. Details that either his injured brain from the concussion, or his traumatized mind – weren't allowing him to remember.
"Okay Booth fine, I concede. However, there is one condition! You have to promise me that you will tell me the minute you start to feel ill or overly fatigued - alright?" She demanded tenderly. I will also need to change your bandages later today, so I guess by being here, you are saving me a trip to your house."
"Okay Bones – thanks. I just can't think about anything else right now, but this case. And I actually have to do this while it's still fresh, otherwise I am going to lose momentum and some of my memories will start to fade. Memories that I need to remember. But I promise that if I start to feel weak or sick, then I will tell you." he said, though he had no intention of becoming weak or sick, after all he was the alpha male wasn't he? He could handle a little pain and fatigue!
(Yeah - famous last words) LOL
To Be Continued . . .
Please review :-) Thank you!
Also - I should be able to get Chapter 3 posted very soon, like in a day or two.