(After Season 12)

A/N: if stories about hunting bother you, then don't read this chapter.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooo

Because he believed all three of his children should know how to protect themselves, as soon as they had reached their thirteenth birthday Booth had taught them how to use a gun and made sure they were comfortable with them. Brennan had also taught them self defense using their hands and feet but emphasized that violence was only an option when reason failed.

Hank's best friend Bob Peterson owned a rifle and used it for target practice and for hunting. "Why don't you come hunting with Dad and me? Dad owns three rifles and you can borrow one of those."

"I don't know. I've never been hunting before." Hank rubbed his right ear. "Dad doesn't hunt. He says his food comes from the store."

Amused, Bob laughed. "His food comes from the store . . . He owns a rifle and some handguns. I've seen his gun safe. I just figured he could hunt."

Slowly shaking his head, Hank felt his father was a complicated man and hard to explain. "He's a city boy. He was born in Pittsburgh and raised in Philadelphia. He doesn't like to shoot animals even if it's for food. Anyway, my mother is a vegetarian, so she'd be very upset with my Dad if he hunted wild animals for any reason . . . Don't get me wrong, he eats meat, but he'd never upset her on purpose by going hunting. It's just the way it is."

Snapping his fingers, Bob had a great idea. "Hey, the next time Dad and me go hunting, you should go with us. Dad wouldn't mind. We can show you how to hunt. We help keep the surplus deer population down so they don't starve in the winter. We both usually get a deer every year. You can get a deer and we can keep it in our freezer or we can donate it to a food bank. It would be up to you."

"I don't know." Hank thought it might be cool to hunt a deer, but he knew his parents would never agree to let him do it. "If I went with you, I'd have to lie to my folks and . . . well, my mother gets really upset when she's lied to."

"We could say we're going to my Dad's camp in Page County, Virginia and we invited you. You don't have to tell them it's to go hunting. Bring your camera and you can take nature pictures and show them to your Mom. She'll like them." Bob knew his father liked Hank and wouldn't mind if he came with them. "Just let me talk to Dad first. I can call you tonight. I think he wants to go hunting the weekend after Thanksgiving. If your parents say you can come and Dad says it's okay, then we'll plan to go then. You can borrow one of Dad's rifles or we can share mine. I'll show you how to hunt. I know you know how to use a rifle, so hunting will be easy for you."

A little leery of the plan, Hank sighed and finally nodded his head. "I'm sixteen and I should be able to decide if I want to hunt or not . . . but I won't mention it to my parents. What they don't know won't hurt them. You can keep the meat if I get a deer. That's okay with me. I'd like to try it at least once to see if it's right for me."

Oooooooooooo

Bill Peterson liked Hank and since his son wanted the boy to come with them hunting, he called Seeley Booth and asked if Hank could go up to his camp the weekend after Thanksgiving. "It's rustic and we use an outdoor John, but it's all part of the camping experience. At least if it rains, we have a roof over our head and I have a wood burning stove for heat. Hank says he's only ever camped in a tent, so this will be something new for him to experience. Bob really wants Hank to come with us and I don't mind, but it's up to you. My boy loves it up there and Hank might like it too. I promise if he hates it, I'll bring him home the next day. He's sixteen and I don't want to worry you. I can always go back the next weekend."

Booth appreciated the offer, but he knew he'd have to check with Brennan. "Well, let me talk to Bones and if she's okay with it then I'll let Hank go with you. He does have camping experience with tents and he knows how to make a fire and chop wood, so he can help around your camp. His mother bought him a new camera for his birthday, so maybe he can take some pictures while he's there."

"Sounds good." Bill checked his watch. "I got a meeting I need to get to. Call me this evening and let me know either way."

Ooooooooooo

The weekend after Thanksgiving was chilly, but not too cold and it wasn't supposed to rain or snow that weekend. Once they were at the camp, Bob and Hank helped carry the coolers into the cabin. Since there was no electricity, they had to use coolers to keep drinks and perishable food cool. "I keep saying I'm going to get some solar panels, but so far I just haven't done it." Bill carried in their luggage and placed it on the floor. "It would come in handy and I wouldn't have to drag coolers up here every time I used the camp." Stepping back outside, he retrieved the weapons he had brought while the boys carried in the remaining grocery sacks. "It's going to be a nice weekend for hunting."

Once everything was squared away, both boys went outside with Hank's camera and took some pictures of birds and a rabbit that was bold enough to come out into the clearing surrounding the cabin. Pleased with the pictures, Hank knew that his mother would enjoy them.

The next morning, Bill woke the boys, made sure they ate breakfast and prepared to go on their hunt. "Okay, Bob . . . Hank, you need to wear those neon green vests when we go out. I want to make sure some yahoo doesn't shoot you while we're out. There are too many careless hunters out there who shoot first and check what they're shooting afterward. I had a close call when I was a teenager and some asshole shot me in the back with birdshot. Lucky for me I was far enough away that when the pellets hit me, they didn't kill me. I've worn a vest when I hunt ever since . . . Hank, I'm not trying to scare you, I'm just saying, make sure you know what you're shooting at before you pull the trigger."

Slowly nodding his head, Hank knew that Bill probably knew what he was talking about. "Got it, Sir."

The morning was a little foggy and everything was damp, but Hank enjoyed the fact that he was surrounded by nature. Living in a city meant that he was rarely out of earshot of cars and trucks. The silence except for the birdsong and the squirrel chatter was peaceful and he wished his parents owned a cabin in some woods somewhere.

Bob was walking beside him with Bill over to the right of them. They were trying to walk silently, but one of them occasionally stepped on a small branch or twig and the crackling sound it made was loud. They had been moving through the woods for about twenty minutes when first Bob then Hank spotted a buck grazing in a small clearing just ahead of them.

Pointing at the deer, Bob moved closer towards Hank and whispered. "Okay, this is yours . . . aim and shoot at the area behind the elbow of the front leg. Take your time and be sure of what you're hitting."

Nervous, Hank was having second thoughts about what he was doing. He knew Bob was counting on him, but he was starting to regret coming on the trip.

Worried that Hank was taking too long, Bob patted his friend on the shoulder. "Don't take too long or that buck is going leave the clearing." He glanced at his father and noticed Bill was staring at them. "If you can't do it, I will."

Embarrassed, Hank knew Bob was waiting on him and he finally took the shot. The deer immediately collapsed and Hank suddenly felt sick. Moving quickly over towards the deer, he knelt next to the dying deer and started to cry. "I'm sorry . . . God, I am so sorry. Please forgive me."

Surprised by Hank's reaction, Bill moved over to where the boy was kneeling and placed his hand on Hank's shoulder. "Hank . . . it's done . . . why don't you go back to the camp. Bob and I will take care of this . . . It's okay . . . Just go back to the cabin."

Crying, Hank stood up, handed the rifle to his friend and walked back towards their cabin. Why did I think this was going to be cool? Why did I come? What's wrong with me? Bob must think I'm a freak . . . a coward . . . I guess I am." Tears flowing down his cheeks, he knew he'd never go hunting again.

Ooooooooooooo

Hank had been silent for the rest of the day. Bill had tried to talk to the boy, but nothing he said made a difference. He knew he'd have to take the boy home and he was worried about how Seeley Booth was going to react. They played on the same hockey team and he knew the agent had a temper. I should have told him up front Hank wanted to go hunting. This is my fault and Seeley is going to probably make me pay for this.

They drove home the next day. Hank still wasn't talking and that worried the hell out of Bill. Bob had tried to get his friend to eat the day before and Hank had tried, but the boy had thrown up half way through the meal and had refused to eat anything since then.

Once they were parked in the Booth/Brennan driveway, Bill got out of the car with Hank and motioned for Bob to stay in the car. In front of the doorway, Bill held Hank's wrist and knocked on the door.

Opening the door, Booth was surprised to see Bill standing there holding Hank's arm. "What's wrong?"

Worried, Bill glanced at Hank and then back at Booth. "Okay, Seeley . . . I'm just going to tell you . . . Hank wanted to go hunting with us this weekend and I let him . . . I should have told you, but I didn't . . . Hank shot a deer and he's been upset ever since. He hasn't eaten since yesterday . . ."

Tears streaming down his cheek, the boy moved away from Bill and into his father's arms. "I'm sorry, Dad . . . I am so sorry. I thought I could do it, but I can't . . . I shot that deer and I am so sorry."

Concerned for his son, Booth let the boy cry while he watched Bill walk back to his car and then leave. After a few minutes, Hank stopped crying and pulled away from his father. "I don't like hunting, Dad . . . I just . . . I want to be a veterinarian and take care of animals . . . killing them just to kill them . . . I just can't do that, Dad. I can't."

Moving the boy into the house, he glanced at Hank's bags lying in the driveway and decided they could stay there for the moment. Once he was inside, he walked the boy into the kitchen and made sure his son sat down at the table while he got them both a bottle of water. Seated, he placed the bottles in the center of the table. "Hunting isn't for everyone and there is no shame in that . . . I don't hunt . . . I tried it once and I hated it, but your grandfather Max hunted and he enjoyed it. He liked to go rabbit hunting. I don't think he hunted deer or at least he never mentioned it . . . Pops hunted when he was a young man. He gave it up after he came back from the War . . . he hated killing and anyway, some people hunt and some people don't. I'm sorry you're upset, but you should have talked to me before you went with Bill to his cabin . . . We could have talked about it . . . I don't think your mother is going to be happy with you. You lied about what you were up to and well . . . you know she hates to be lied to and neither do I . . . Drink some water . . . you can't stop drinking and eating, you'll make yourself sick and that will upset your Mom."

After Hank had drunk some of the water, Booth reached across the table and patted his son's arm. "You go to your room, change into some pjs and lie down. I'll go and get your stuff from the driveway . . . Hank, I don't mind you trying out new things as long as it's legal, but don't lie to me or your Mom about what you're up to . . . We can talk through some of this stuff and we can give you our opinion . . . you can take our advice or not, but don't lie to us . . . You involved Bill Peterson and his son Bob in this mess and now he's probably worried I'm going to kill him or hurt him . . . I might hurt him a little. I'll have to think about it." He'd meant that as a joke, but his son was staring at him with fear on his face. "I'm joking . . . boy, you need to get a sense of humor."

"I do have a sense of humor . . . I didn't hear anything funny." Hank was feeling better. He'd needed to talk to his father and so far, his father had said all the right things.

"Ha ha . . . your mother and you have never understood my jokes." Booth shook his head. "Go lie down and in a bit, I'm going to bring you some soup and tea. I think you can eat now. Your Mom will be home in a couple of hours. You can talk to her then."

Standing, the boy moved around the table and hugged his father. "I'm sorry I lied to you and Mom . . . I love you, Dad."

"And I love you, Hank." Booth patted the boy's back. "I'm not going to punish you for lying to us . . . we both know you don't need it."

"Thanks, Dad."

Ooooooooooooooo

Let me know what you think of my story. I appreciate it.

A/N: I was looking through my stories and realized that I had abandoned this one. I was sick for a few months, but lately I've been in the mood to write.