Nothing Beats Brain Tumor Card

So I'm sure I've whined about this in the past: "Son of a bitch! My mother had a brain tumor, and it's taken me three years to get my life back on track after I literally stopped everything for a year while she recovered, and now Bones is playing brain tumor with Booth, and it really hacks me off because I know they're going to have some miraculous recovery ability/time for him, and every time I start writing about it, I start getting way too personal into way too many details that I'd rather not A- relive and B- share with the world."

So, yeah. You might have heard that rant before.

But I've managed to find a small balance of what I know actually happens and what fanfiction can handle. And, yes. This is about Hodgins. And it's about Booth. And Parker. Because I have a bad feeling he won't be shown much either this season even though he'd probably be the most affected character by his father's illness and recovery (and that includes Brennan). Btw, Parker shows up later in the follow up for this. FYI Spoiler alert.

Update: I'm not sure where the "Hodgins/Booth" coupling is coming from, but it's been mentioned, so I'd like to clear this up. To see where this story originated, read this first: .net/s/4780884/1/Should_Old_Acquaintances_Be_Forgot

This'll show that it this wasn't some random favor asked by Booth of Jack. Plus there was an episode where Booth was thinking of sending Parker to a private school.


"So you want me, a unrepentant bug and soil guy, to fill in for a job as badass as 'FBI Agent' on Bring Your Parent to School Day?"

"Yep," Booth fumbled his cup of pudding. The plastic spoon weeble wobbling toward his mouth. Still working on that eye-hand coordination.


"Well, I'd go, but. You know." Booth looked innocent.

Jack frowned, stymied at what just happened. "Dude, did you just play the brain tumor card?"

Booth grinned, his face puffy from the extra twenty-thirty-forty(?) pounds. "Yes, I am. Say, have you ever been on steroids? It's… awesome." He started to drift off, lightweight that he was on drugs, "I can do anything on steroids. You know, I'm sometimes online at like three AM with a friend in Korea. I can't sleep. We chat and things. Steroids make me happy." Booth was all over the place, mentally and with his hands. He couldn't stop his fingers from fidgeting.

"What am I going to do? I'm not good with kids." Jack whined, already defeated. He watched his friend, though. Seeing how much progress had been made over the weeks. Months?

Booth processed for a few minutes, his internal hourglass turning, then snapped back to reality. "I dunno. Butterflies and cockroaches. Mention some of the dead body stuff. Kids love that. You'll do great."

"His mother can't go?" Feeble attempt. Jack dropped it, knowing he'd already been suckered in. Nothing beats brain tumor as an excuse. "Jared?" A really lame attempt.

"I think Jared is still in India trying to find himself in a cow or a butterfly… I want someone from my side," Booth finally admitted. "I want to see if he's doing okay there."

And then Hodgins got it. And sighed. He'd just been tapped as Parker's fairy godfather. Possibly for life. Booth zoned out again- either from the drugs, the large hole in his head (surrounded by much littler ones from the halo), or just one of those moments. Jack leaned back, trying to figure out if he wanted that much responsibility. God knew money wasn't an issue. That Booth wasn't using him to politically better his son. It was just that Parent Day was a baby step. First minor fill ins- emergency pick ups, little league, making cupcakes for birthdays. Then bigger ones: music recitals, campovers, Boy Scouts, parent- teacher conferences, more little league games.

Booth wasn't just on restricted leave or desk duty. He was unable to work at all. Couldn't drive for a year. Two years at least to be issued a gun again. If ever. Interrogations? Case management? Everything was reassigned or put into cold storage. Booth seemed happy on steroids and gabapentin and other pain killers, but his son was the big thing he couldn't live without. Even if he had to tap a coworker over an actual relative.

Jack found himself already cataloguing which insects to bring for full gross out effect. Which cases he could discuss. Which ones he couldn't. It was a lost cause. He'd show up, see how Parker was doing at St. Micheaux's. See if he was being treated well, was able to handle his father's illness. Let everyone, including the janitor, know that Parker was a distant relative of the Hodgins Family and "not" a Scholarship case.

Nothing ever beats brain tumor card.