Title: Then The Rain Fell
Pairing: H/A and a little B/B
Summary: Awww. If you're a crybaby like me, this'll make you tear up. xD
She stood by the hospital room silently, listening in. She didn't feel like disturbing them. The truth was, it looked like no time was lost between them. Brennan was sitting on Booth's bed with a photo album, trying to revive his patchy memory.
"Woah, woah, woah. Turn back a bit," he said.
She turned back.
"What was I? Clark Kent?"
"You were a squint. See the calculator?"
"It's kind of ironic, isn't it? Me the squint, you the crime-fighter?"
She laughed easily and flipped through the album again. Most of it he seemed to remember. Here and there, he needed to be reminded. Brennan kept that businesslike and strong look on her face, but Angela could tell that her friend was hurt when he didn't remember certain events.
"Hey," Hodgins said softly, walking up beside Angela.
"Hey." She turned and walked a little into the hallway so that they didn't disturb Booth and Brennan.
"How's he doin' today?"
She shrugged. "He's better, I think. He remembers more today."
Ange, when we split, either one of us could've stopped it. It would've been easy.
It would be just as easy to begin again.
The words slipped through her mind. A conversation that hung in the air between them. A dense cloud of uncertainty and possibility. She still didn't know what her reply should be.
How many times had she thought of the way it could be?
Her cell phone rang, so she slowed her pace and answered it. The Date or Hate application pulled up on her screen. A familiar face. Hodgins. She smiled at the irony and looked around. He was somewhere. Her eyes returned to the screen.
The smile melted as she realized that neither were a possibility in their world. Neither date nor hate. They couldn't hate one another. They couldn't date each other, either. That ship had sailed.
He made the decision for her.
She would have done the same thing. But it hurt knowing that particular truth. Perhaps the past must remain in the past.
His hands were in his pockets. "I've been meaning to talk to you about--"
Neither said anything more. The conversation was off-limits.
He scratched his nose nervously. "I'm just about to head home. Did you need a ride?"
"What? In that thing? Doesn't it smell like Hank?"
"Au de Hank. It's the new Elizabeth Taylor."
He laughed. "Either way, it smells like a corpse."
A moment grew between them--awkward. A million conversations passed. A million more past.
She laughed uncomfortably and hiked her purse onto her shoulder.
"I'll see you later, Ange."
She nodded and watched him knock softly on Booth's door, then disappear behind it.
She didn't move for several seconds.
Better than a dream, huh? You're shameless. Alright, you better get--get--You're gonna kill yourself.
I wouldn't do that.
The past must remain in the past.
She walked through the halls, white and gleaming in clinical perfection. People crying. Children playing.
The drive home, through the May rainstorm, would be as lonely as her apartment. She was beginning to wish she had gotten that dog after all.
Hodgins walked up to Booth as Brennan stood up, feeling conscious about their closeness at the moment.
"How you doin'?"
"I have a headache," Booth informed him.
"Yeah, about that. Looks like a hell of an accident. You should look into getting some glasses."
Booth laughed softly.
"Angela forgot her cell phone."
Hodgins looked at Brennan. She was sitting on the little sofa where she and Angela had chatted earlier that day before Booth woke.
"Maybe I can catch her." Hodgins held out his hand. The phone was exchanged.
"Get better." Hodgins waved and left the hospital room.
In the parking lot, Hodgins looked around. She wasn't in sight, so he got into his own vehicle.
We move in and out of loving other people, but that doesn't make the love any less real.
She turned on the CD player to drown out all of the pain and thoughts that were twisting and boiling in her mind. Beyonce's voice sang of her angel, his halo, walls tumbling down. The thoughts of Hodgins and ephemeral lives were just as loud as before.
A truck drove by, splashing mud across her windshield.
We're here one minute and then we're gone the next. If you keep living trying to protect yourself, nothing is ever going to touch you.
She tried to straighten her wheels as the car hydroplaned, slid sharply to one side and spun in the road. The centrifugal force of the spin, combined with the disorienting mud and speed made it next to impossible to right herself in the road. Headlights glimmered from all corners of the car. There were several long blares as people slammed on their brakes and put their weight into their horns.
Then a deafening thunderclap as a Prius bashed into the side of her Toyota. Metal twisted. Glass peppered her face. Confusion. Airbags blew. The vehicle rolled.
A terrifying silence.
Several lanes back, the traffic slowed to the point that Hodgins, after a few minutes, put his car into park.
The next thing to happen is hard to describe. It's impossible to believe. All I can say is that when you love someone, when soul mates find one another, that you know. You just know.
He kept his eyes in the distance. He told himself that it wasn't her.
His heart thudded against his sternum.
Then he got out of the car. Rain quickly drenched his hair. Thick wet curls hung over his eyes and slicked his tee shirt against his chest.
He walked at first, ignoring people who honked at him for abandoning his car. Then his feet picked up speed. The closer he got, the faster his heart pounded, the more that feeling of dread and fear grew.
Twisted and jagged gray metal lay in the middle of the street. A few people stood back and simply stared at the wreckage.
"Angela! Oh, God, Angie!" His legs brought him the last several yards until he was kneeling near the crushed window. Her dark hair was soaked with blood, but she was still conscious. He could hear her thick, ragged breaths and fearful sobs.
Without the possibility of pain, there can be no joy, no real love.
He reached for her hand, stretching his arm until he could touch her finger tips.
A hot tear fell onto his arm.
"Angela," he said. Tears were beginning to moisten his own eyes. "I'm here, Angie. I'm always here."
"It hurts, Jack."
"Don't move, Ange. Don't move."
"So are you." He wiped away her tears with his thumb.
"Don't leave me."
Then you should come home with me.
When you open your eyes, I'll be there.
"Angela, stay awake. Don't close your eyes. Oh, God, Angie. Please. Stay with me."
Thank you again for all of your lovely comments!
Today Hart Hanson said that with a bit of luck, Bones will return September 17th with guest-star Cyndi Lauper! How awesome is that?! Mark your calendars!