Hi All! I wanted to say thank you for all of the reviews you guys have given me. It's nice to hear feedback! And I'm sorry that I made you guys wait so long. I made it longer than normal so that I could pay you guys back. Okay, so I honestly don't write any dialogue for Roxie because I don't know her character enough to write her and feel good about it. So she's here, just, in the background. Not that she's appropriate anymore… but cutting her out of the story isn't my plan yet.
I do apologize again for how long it took. I just had four midterms and probably 10 papers due in about two weeks… Talk about stress… Thank you all for waiting.
Booth found Angela in the waiting room nursing what looked like her fifth cup of coffee, judging by the four empty Styrofoam cups next to her. With her lack of sleep and the massive amounts of caffeine in her system, she looked more than a little shaky and her eyes were rimmed in red.
"Ange." He said her name as he sat down next to her.
"Booth, how is she? Did you tell her? How'd she handle it?" She grabbed Booth's right hand and held onto it for dear life.
"Well, I didn't really know what to expect her to do. So, I guess she handled it alright. She only cried for a few minutes before her compartmentalization skills surfaced and the mask dropped back into place. She asked for you, though." He dropped his head, resting his chin on his chest. He honestly didn't have any precedent for this kind of situation that he could work off of. This wasn't like saving her from some psychopath just before he did something. This was him not being able to save her and having to try and pick up the pieces of a broken Brennan. "Angela, I don't know what to do, or say. I mean, she obviously doesn't want to talk about it. And I get that. I wouldn't want to talk about that either. But I'm… I'm scared that she's going to totally close herself off from everyone and everything. Do you think that'll happen?"
"I honestly don't know Booth. She's a tough woman. I've been her friend long enough to know that." She paused. "Did she ever tell you what happened to her in El Salvador?"
"Something happened to her in El Salvador?" He started mentally running through all of his and Bones' conversations trying to remember one where she even talked about El Salvador. Right, there'd been that case where they'd found Hector, a man who worked for a state Senator, had killed a girl by accident. He remembered the case so vividly because of the way Bones acted the entire time. It was a little off of her normal stoic self, but nothing to write home about.
"When she was in El Salvador, she was identifying the remains of a girl that had been thrown down a well. Soldiers showed up; she thought that they were there to protect her. They weren't. They ordered her to stop what she was doing. When she refused, they took her and threw her into a dirty, windowless cell. She was in there for three days, and everyday someone came in and made her believe that she was going to die. They told her they'd kill her and throw her down a well so no one would be able to find her, just like the girl she was trying to identify. She told me that she vowed that if she got out of there alive, that she was going to make sure that no one could make her feel like that again. That's why she attacked that stupid gangster; she was showing herself that she was out of that cell, and that she'd done what she told herself she was going to do. Then, something like this happens to her, while she's in her home town? This is probably killing her that after all the hell that she's gone through in her life, the foster families, being alone, everything, and she's still made to feel worthless, just something some asshole used and discarded in an alley." She glanced down, tears flowing freely from her eyes. Roxie leaned over and wiped Angela's cheeks with a tissue she'd pulled from her purse, even though tears were flowing down her own.
Through this whole speech, Booth's face had hardened, his jaw clenched and unclenched as his whole body tensed. He looked down and his knuckles were white where he gripped the chair. He'd had no idea that something like that had happened to her. His previous feeling of awe returned. How did this woman live through all of this? She was stronger than he'd known. No wonder she buried all of her emotions. He now understood the dull gray her eyes had become now. This was just another in a long line of terrible things that had happened in her life. When he found the guy that did this to her, the guy that ruined his four years of work to get her to open up, he was going to make sure this guy regret ever being born. And then arrest him.
"Ange, she didn't remember a thing from last night. I had to tell her everything. The last thing she remembers is leaving the lab. She doesn't remember the club, she doesn't remember before the club, and she doesn't remember waking up in the alley and calling me." Angela's face crumpled anew. "What?" He looked at her questioningly. She grabbed another tissue from Roxie, wiped under her eyes and blew her nose. Then, she squared her shoulders and looked him directly in the eye.
"Alright, I'm going to tell you something that Brennan figured out last night. I usually wouldn't break her confidence like this, but I think you should really know. Maybe this will help you help her."
"What?" He was starting to get a little more than concerned.
"Last night, when I was over to Bren's apartment picking out her outfit, like I usually do, I found the dress that you picked out for her in Vegas. Very hot by the way." He blushed as the memories resurfaced. The one that he liked to focus on the most was where she pulled that wad of cash out of her dress. That was pretty amazing and so un-Bones-like, he's lucky his jaw didn't hit the floor and blow the whole case. "Anyway, she asked me what something you said to her on the plane to China meant."
"Huh?" He thought for a second, then realization dawned on his face even as a deeper blush crept up his cheeks. "Oh." He hung his head, studiously avoiding Angela's eyes. He had mistaken when he thought that Bones wouldn't even remember that. He couldn't even remember why he had said that. Actually, he didn't think he had a reason. He just walked in, found her in those glasses, and his mouth started saying what was in his head before his internal brain-to-mouth filter kicked in.
"Yeah. The librarian thing. And I thought the dress was hot, that was nothing in comparison. When I explained it to her, her rather brilliant mind went to work, and she kind of figured it out all on her own. Honest, I didn't even have to prod her that much."
"What? Figured what out on her own?" He did look at her this time.
"Only that you're totally in love with her. And don't even try to deny it." She held up a hand when he opened his mouth. "Remember me? I'm the heart of our little, what you've so aptly nicknamed, brain trust. And it's the heart that I know best. So, just tell me the truth. Do you love her?" He looked slightly panicked for a second as he tried to find a possibility that could get him out of this conversation. His brain was a traitor. The only thing it was coming up with was "yes." So, obviously his traitor mouth was going to blurt it out.
"Yes, Angela. Yes, I do love her." He was impressed with himself. That hadn't sounded remotely as strained as he thought it was going to.
"Good. She loves you too. She doesn't know it yet, but she'll figure it out. Well, she already did. So, I guess she'll figure it out again." She looked confused for a second, as if trying to figure out if she'd said it right. She nodded to herself then focused on Booth again. "Now, you go get something to eat, maybe some coffee, and I'll go see Bren." His eyes shimmered slightly as he let emotions wash over him that he'd held in check for a long time.
"Thanks Angela." He hugged her as she stood up, then watched as she made her way towards Bones' room. Booth leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes. Just as he nodded off for the first time in almost 48 hours, he heard his name called from the front of the waiting room. He looked up and found Bones' doctor at the door searching the room quizzically. He pulled himself out of the chair and made his way towards him.
"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth."
Brennan sat looking at the dismal walls in her hospital room. This color shouldn't be allowed to be used in here. Salmon shouldn't even count as a color. She looked out the window, hoping for a reprieve from the suffocating color on the walls, but the only view she had was of other buildings and concrete. She wanted to see some trees again. She sighed and looked around her room again in disgust. It was completely irrational to be mad at a color.
Her mind slowly filtered back to why she was in this room in the first place. She believed Booth. She trusted the man with her life, obviously. But, she had absolutely no recollection of last night, of going "clubbing" as Angela called it, of the attack, or of calling Booth. While she did believe Booth, she needed to gather her own proof. She needed evidence, that was just who she was. She swung her legs, rather painfully, off the edge of the bed and grabbed her IV stand. She, rather inelegantly, hobbled to where her chart was hanging off the bed frame. She had just grasped the chart when her doctor decided to make his appearance.
"Ah, Dr. Brennan, I see that you've woken up." He smiled. She huffed at him and tried to gracefully get back into bed. However, with her injuries, grace wasn't a thing she had. She tumbled into the bed, biting back a cry as she tugged on the stitches in her thigh. He nodded to the nurse that had followed him in to give her a hand.
"I just want to check your stitches, and if everything's looking alright, I actually see no problem in you going home within a couple of hours. I'll release you only if you can have someone spend the night with you, or spend the night with them, so they can wake you up every few hours. Also, you need to make an appointment with the clinic here at the hospital so you can get your stitches taken out and get the results to all of your test results."
"Okay. Thank you Doctor…" She looked for a nametag but couldn't find it on his scrubs.
"Michaels, Dr. Michaels. So when you're ready in about two hours, you can go ahead and head home. But I want to make sure you have someone you're staying with. I want to just have a quick chat with them about what to do. Who is it?"
She thought for a second. Who the hell could stay with her? Ange would be with Roxie tonight, and she really didn't want to ask Ange. It was going to be hard because Ange wouldn't let her take care of herself. She'd be talkative and upbeat, trying to lighten her mood. She could ask her dad. No, then she'd have to call him and explain what happened. She'd rather not make that phone call. That left…
"Um, Special Agent Seeley Booth is his name. He should be in the waiting room."
"Okay. I'll be back in a few hours with your instructions." With that he swept from the room. However, the nurse was still at her elbow working on her IV. She gently grasped above the IV in her arm and pulled it out.
"There you go dear, now you can move about a little bit more freely. Move carefully though. You don't want to rip out your stitches. It'll be uncomfortable to go to the bathroom until all your internal and external tearing heals up. Also, when you're ready to leave dear, the clothes you came in are in a bag under your bed."
She watched the nurse leave the room. She was finding it hard to keep her walls up when everyone kept mentioning what happened. She sighed. She thought about her decision to have Booth be the one that woke her up every few hours. She hoped that she hadn't overstepped her bounds. She had just figured that Booth would be the only person who would just let her be. He was the only person in a long time she was comfortable just being around, not talking, just being. She didn't feel the constant need to keep up the conversation or even look immaculate. She heaved another sigh as she thought of Angela's reaction to her decision. Maybe she just wouldn't tell her.
She looked around her rather annoying room and her eyes landed on her much sought after chart. She decided that now would be a good time to get her evidence, before she was discharged. She wanted to see all this for herself. She climbed awkwardly out of bed, and had just grasped it when Angela walked through the door, sympathetic smile in place. She wanted to scream in frustration.
"Sweetie, what're you doing out of bed?"
"Nothing, just stretching out my legs. They were getting cramped in this stupid hospital bed." She made her way back around the damn bed, avoiding Angela's eyes so she couldn't see the pure annoyance swimming in hers.
"How are you feeling?" She clenched her fist at the question. She could just tell she was going to hear that for a long time. She wondered when life would finally go back to normal. Maybe it won't, she contemplated. Maybe I'll always be Dr. Temperance Brennan, the rape victim. She shook as that thought crossed her mind, then filed it away with everything else behind her painstakingly erected walls.
"I'm fine." She climbed back into bed, again. When she settled back into the pillows, she looked at Ange, who was looking at her incredulously. "What? I am fine. Honestly."
"Do you really want me to start on the ridiculousness of that statement?"
"No Ange. I…" She groaned. "I just… what do you want me to say? I don't remember any of it. So, it kind of feels like everyone is just making it up, lying to me. Like on that stupid show, Prank'd. I feel disgusting, like I haven't showered in days, and I want to wear real clothes. All I want is to go home. "She paused in her rant to gasp. She'd pushed all of that out in one sentence, not leaving anytime for Angela to interrupt. She looked up now, directly into her eyes.
"Well. I can understand that. And its Punk'd. The show you're thinking of." She stopped for a second, as if unsure how to continue. "Do you want me to go hurry the doctor up so you can leave?"
Brennan almost cried in relief. "My god, that would make my horrendous day that much better Ange. Really."
"Okay sweetie. I can do that for you." She walked over and hugged Brennan tight. Letting only a few tears leak through her clenched eyelids. When she pulled away, she swiped at them quickly. "I'll be right back."
Brennan watched her leave, then once again swung her legs out over the edge of her bed. She shuffled to the end, and had just extended her hand when Booth walked in. This time, she couldn't hold her annoyance in and let out and undignified moan. She threw her hands up in frustration and made her way to the bed and plopped down on it. Booth, as if sensing why she was annoyed, picked up the chart and handed it to her.
"Evidence right?" He looked at her, not with sympathy, but with knowing, and some other emotion she couldn't identify. It sparked a memory within her. Not a full one, to her annoyance, just a vague feeling of déjà vu that she almost knew what it was… once. She shook her head when she realized that she'd been staring into his eyes for about a minute now.
"Thank you." She said in an uncommonly shy voice. She looked down at the chart in her hand. She'd been trying her for the past hour to get her hands on it, and now that she had it, she didn't really want to know. She could feel those stupid tears start up in her eyes again. She glanced up at Booth and took reassurance in his deep brown eyes. She handed him her chart and shook her head, looking away as her tears fell of their own accord.
"Does Angela know you that you're staying with me?" He looked at her, a touch of his normal amusement playing in his eyes.
"No. Not yet. Although, she is talking to the doctor right now to see if he can shovel me out of here faster." The glanced at him sharply. "Don't tell her. If I stay with Ange tonight, I'm going have to…" He cut her off.
"Bones. It's fine. And I won't tell. I promise. Pinky swear." He held out his pinky to her, which puzzled her greatly.
"I don't know what that means." She watched as he grabbed her hand, curled her fingers into a fist and pulled out her pinky; he promptly hooked it with his.
"I promise not to tell your secret. The pinky swear is a binding promise. Going back on a pinky swear is like… whew. Not good, karmicly." He smiled his signature charm smile, trying to lift her spirits. She smiled back at him, opening her mouth to say something about how Karma had nothing to do with pinky swears. He saw it coming though, and she felt him place his finger over her lips. He grinned the straightened back up.
"So. You're staying with me tonight. I figure you can have my bed. I just changed my sheets recently, so you're in luck. Also, because Parker was over last weekend, which means my apartment is relatively clean. Don't want him scamperin' off to his mom talking about how awesome it is that my apartment is as messy as his room. Albeit, there are Tonka truck in my living room. There not mine. But I'll pick them up when we get home, no need anyone stepping on one of those bitches in the middle of the night." She laughed at this, and it felt good to laugh with Booth again, like nothing had changed. Maybe, she thought, there is some merit to that saying laughter is the best medicine.
A/N: Okay. Soo, bear with me guys. It's Spring Break but my professors don't seem to think so. My updating will be sporadic and annoying. Also. I really had no good spot to end this at. And, any ideas on how the next chapter should go, tell me. I'm winging this next one.
ANYWAY! How effin' cute was Booth explaining to that kid how he's responsible for all of those baby's lives? Wow. I wish every guy thought that way…