Brennan's Two Cents Worth
Temperance Brennan sat at her computer thinking. She activated the machine's 'incognito' mode for this very private document. She had already tried writing out her thought in longhand, as Booth did, but numerous crumpled sheets of paper now occupied a trashcan beside her desk. She wrote her novels on her keyboard, Andy's and Kathy's crime-fighting pursuits and friendly squabbles filling the screen as her fingers moved across the keys. Her agile mind moved very quickly, and sometimes thoughts flowed out at lightning speed. Technology was faster than the Schaeffer fountain pen she loved so much.
A wrinkle appeared between her brows, and she unconsciously chewed her lower lip. . .
"Dear Dr. Hodg…
"Dear Jac-
"Dear Hodgins,
"You and I are both intensely private people, which makes this letter all the harder to write. We have become not only trusted associates, and esteemed colleagues, but friends as well through the last few years. Close friends, I believe. For this reason, I'm audaciously conveying some thoughts to you, which I feel compelled to express, which may vex you, but which I hope may comfort you in time.
"I admire your dedicated work ethic and pursuit of truth more than I can put into words. I greatly respect your desire to work quietly at the Jeffersonian Institution, rather under the radar, without your co-workers being aware of your connection to the Cantilever Group and your resultant financial position. I have come to rely on your occasional sparsely-dispensed advice, which has always proven insightful and extremely beneficial to me.
"I wish Booth could be writing you this letter, as he has suffered many physical injuries in his work, both military and FBI. He could support and commiserate better than I can, but he would never presume to intrude upon your privacy, nor divulge his own feelings regarding this subject. For me to do so, is uncharacteristically brassy and forward, but I can see you are hurting inside, and find myself forced to share my thoughts.
"While I haven't been injured to the same serious extent as you, I have found myself physically hurting a few times in our line of work. During the fountain case with Avalon, Dr. Leacock threw a knife at me, as you know. The sight of that sharp implement protruding from my upper arm, piercing my posterior cutaneous nerve, gave me nightmares for several weeks. I still feel the damage it caused whenever the weather is cold or damp.
"While I don't willingly reveal that I was kidnapped by mercenary soldiers several times during digs in Latin America, I know you've heard the stories. The memories of those frightening, uncertain days while they held me captive still sear my brain; especially at night when I least expect it.
"If I had chosen a more sedate university major, and never ventured to war-torn countries to identify victims in mass graves, I'd never have been kidnapped. If I had continued to work with the silent residents of Bone Storage in the Jeffersonian basement, giving back their names and voices, I'd never have been stabbed, or shot by that Virginia sheriff. Studying ancient mummies sent to our institution never placed me in harm's way.
"But assisting the Army and various governments with victim identification, and working with the FBI has led to my being injured several times, both mentally and physically. It comes with the work we do.
"If you had chosen to work in a university research laboratory or used your brilliant mind to teach younger people, imparting the vast knowledge you have acquired in botany, entomology, mineralogy, palynology, and chemistry; you would not be sitting in a wheelchair today. Your life would have remained safe, sheltered, and predictable. But you offered your analytical talents to the wider world, helping save, rescue, and bring justice to people who lack your intellectual genius.
"I deeply regret that you were so grievously injured by that bomb inside poor Officer Gallo's body. No one should have to pay the price demanded from you. I admire your determination and drive, and know how arduous your recovery has been and will continue to be. Please know that, while I can't feel the extent of your pain, I can empathize. To a far lesser degree, I've been there. Bearing the scars of the work we do, both physical and mental, seen and invisible; is far more difficult than any other person can possibly realize.
"Do not feel it necessary to discuss this letter with me. If it brings you some support or comfort, it will have fulfilled its intended purpose. I'm writing it, not to embarrass you, preach or pontificate. But just to let you know you are esteemed, appreciated, and hopefully uplifted by a friend. One who is infinitely fortunate to have made your acquaintance and come to know the amazing person you are. I am here for you and Angela, whether in silence or however you may need.
"Always,
Temperance Brennan"
She read her letter several times, made a few changes, saved the document, and printed it. Sliding the folded sheets into an envelope, she addressed it to Hodgins in her sure angular script, and sealed it. Rising from her chair, she left her office, walked across the empty lab, and placed the envelope on Jack Hodgins desk, under the file he was working on at day's end.
Then she returned for her coat, bag and keys and went home to her family. As she walked to her car, she called Booth to let him know she was on her way.