What's Hidden Behind the Dream
Summary: Brennan's sudden desire to have a baby again. A case involving the gruesome deaths of a family. Booth. Does any of this have to do with the oddity of Brennan's dream? Secret Santa gift for Brenthforever. [Booth x Bones]
Prompt: Parenting / "My daddy married the Bones lady! Beat that!"
Dedication: To Brenthforever. I hope my oneshot does this pairing justice.
A/N: Just for the record, I haven't been keeping track of the seasons lately. I saw seasons 1-4 and around two episodes of season 5. I haven't seen season 6 and don't plan to until it comes out on DVD–the same goes for season 5. So if there are things that I'm missing, sorry about that. Please excuse my lack of knowledge in newest seasons.
Disclaimer: Yeah…I don't own the TV show Bones. That is all.
In the past, Brennan believed parenting simply wasn't up for people like her, that it would provide her with no benefits. But she watched how parenting improved Cam and created this strange yet beaming spark of pride in her eyes every time she was with Michelle and raised the young teen as her own. She could see the same exuberance in Booth whenever he was around Parker and knew that her partner never regretted bringing Parker into the world, despite the circumstances.
After observing how the two of them enjoyed the life as a parent, Brennan wondered if she too could achieve such a fulfillment as a mother.
Her first attempts in having a baby were derailed Booth was diagnosed with a brain tumor and she completely abandoned her parental plans while she watched Booth recover from his operation. Later, she forgot her desire to have a child–until now.
The reason? The unexpected but joyous news of Angela and Hodgins's unborn baby.
Hodgins and Angela couldn't stop talking about it for weeks; they had already made a list of male and female names and decided on their favorites. So far, they liked Arianna and Faith for a girl (they both concurred that the name "Temperance" would be the girl's middle name, if they had one) and Joshua and Zachery for a boy. Brennan had no doubt in her mind that the reason they chose the name "Zach" to be in their favorites was because Hodgins wanted to honor his best friend in some special way. It would almost like giving the old Zach a second chance.
It must have been all the hours of listening to Angela constantly list off all the names she found in websites and books while they worked that provoked Brennan to start wondering what sort of name she'd decided on if she ever had a child. Of course, she would want her baby's name to have some meaning and perhaps have a role or story in history–Brennan always liked names with importance. Even a few literary names came into mind, like David Copperfield or even Darcy. Brennan always preferred some of the classics to books nowadays; they seemed to possess an entity that many other novels lack.
Jarred out her reverie, Brennan glanced up from her computer screen to face Booth, who was staring at her quizzically.
"Is everything okay?" he asked, worry subtly glinting in his soft brown eyes.
"Yes," she responded swiftly, glancing back at the computer screen, "I was just…too focused in my work. What is it, Booth?"
"We found some bones for you to look at. Apparently, the buried skeleton we found isn't a complete set–someone has been mixing around with the different bones."
"Did Wendell identify anything new about the different bones, like age, race, or gender?" Brennan questioned as she grabbed her jacket before following him to the lab. Booth nodded.
"Last time I checked, he has. He's busy sorting the bones out to determine how many bones each belong to the same person."
By the time he was finished Brennan had already swiped her card in, put on a pair of latex gloves, and was ready to delve into her work. Her assistant, Wendell, was sorting the bones in three piles; a note card was placed by each skeletal outline.
"What do you have for me, Wendell?" Brennan inquired promptly, gently picking up the skull and began examining it. Caucasian, definitely a male, and in his mid-forties. There are some silver fillings in both of his second molars…
"So far, I have detected the bones belonging to three different people," Wendell commenced, motioning to the three tables filled with scattered bones, "An older man in his mid-forties, a young woman in her late-thirties, and a small child, a boy, who is around seven or eight-years-old."
Brennan immediately looked up from the skull to face Booth, whose impassive face was marked with silent rage. She wondered how long would it take for some of that ire to slip into his voice when he'll order them to find the killer. She knew how hard murdered children affected Booth. He may be a FBI agent and at one point, a soldier, but he always was a father first. And nothing enraged him more than thought of a killer silencing the lives of hapless, terrified children.
Suddenly, Brennan pondered if she had a child, would she begin to feel the same emotions Booth did whenever the news of a child's death reached him? She had learned to suppress her feelings so they wouldn't hinder her ability to focus and concentrate but there still was always a lingering trace of emotions, of indignation for the victims that always lurked inside of her. If she became a mother, would she start to see the face of her baby on the human skull of a young child, wondering how could she prevent her baby from ending up like all the murdered victims that the Jeffersonian sends her way?
Even though she had been caught up in her musings, Brennan was still aware of Booth and his hidden rage.
"Find this son of a bitch, will you?"
After a few days of sleuthing and collaboration, they were able to find the surviving member of the massacred family, the older brother of the murdered seven-year-old. The teenager's name was Robert Woods and he had witnessed the slaughter of his family. He had been away from the house for awhile and returned just in time to see the brutal killings. The men who had committed the heinous deed didn't even notice him as Robert watched them from the window.
At first, Robert refused to talk–he was too shaken up the death of his family to speak, much less describe the killers. Sweets and Angela were sent in to try to comfort him and get him to open up. Eventually and with much effort, the duo managed to crack the silent barrier surrounding Robert and get him to talk. He described the three men that entered his house and Angela sketched them all, one by one. Booth, Cam, and Brennan didn't waste any time tracking the men down and bringing them in for questioning.
The interrogation was a long and hard one, and it wasn't just because there were three men they had to break down. All of them were seasoned criminals who had done this routine before and cockily stated that they wanted their phone call. Brennan watched from afar with Sweets while Cam and Booth ruthlessly grilled these men with questions even with their lawyers present and persistently tried to get them to confess. But when the day was done, not one of them admitted their part in the murder of the Woods family.
Yet that didn't mean the battle wasn't over. Hodgins, Angela, and Wendell were still analyzing all the clues and evidence they had at their disposal. Brennan had faith they would find proof that would verify those three men were the executioners of Robert Woods's parents and little brother. If anyone could do it, it would be her team.
While Booth and Cam were trying to do everything in their power to at least keep the men locked up for at least one night because of Robert's testimony, Brennan had to leave the observation booth to search for any more hidden evidence that she had previously overlooked. She knew for certain they had mounting facts against those murderers and even if they didn't outright confess, she would use all the proof they have to make sure those deplorable men land in jail with the strictest, harshest punishment as possible. They were the reason why Robert was now an orphan, alone in the world. They were the reason why he wouldn't have his parents or his little brother to come home to anymore.
"Brennan?" The sound of Angela's voice jerked the said woman out of her working trance. Angela smiled and shook her head.
"Sweetie, you need some rest. Go take a nap, Wendell's doing fine with the bones."
"But I can't stop now," Brennan protested even as Angela began nudging her off the platform and dragging her back to her office, "We still need enough evidence to prove that those men are cold-blooded killers and without that, Cam and Booth won't be able arrest them!"
"I know and we'll find all the proof they'll need," reassured Angela, "Besides, if you try to work when you're exhausted, Brennan, you'll get nowhere. It's best to start anew with a clean, refreshed mind."
Brennan couldn't help but smile softly at her friend's logic. "Since when have you become so logical?"
"When my best friend isn't," Angela teased prior to leaving Brennan's office, "And you better at least get an hour's worth of rest, Brennan!"
"I will!" she called back to her comrade before shutting the door and plopping down on her coach. She shook her head, wishing she could still continue her work but even if she snuck back to the lab, Angela would see her and wouldn't let her hear the end of it. And sleeping definitely sounded like a better option than having Angela wail on her for about forty-five minutes with that disapproving glare of hers. Angela didn't get angry often but when she did, Brennan didn't want to be around when her friend unleashed her wrath.
Closing her eyes, Brennan pulled her blanket up to her chin and nestled against the cushions, letting sleep claim her–just for an hour or so. After all, it was only going to a short, quick nap to rejuvenate her cognitive senses.
Just for an hour…it'll only last for an hour and then, I can get back to work…
Childish laughter resonated through the air as Temperance Brennan observed the giggling, exuberant children horse around on the playground. She was busy watching Parker play with a group of boys and judging by their behaviors, she sensed that they were attempting to establish and fight over the role as the leader, the alpha male in the group. Right now, they were intensely debating over who had the best father.
"My daddy has a fancy sports car!" argued one boy.
"My daddy is in the FBI!" cried Parker, his small, cherubic face scrunched up with supreme determination. Brennan had witnessed a similar expression in his father.
Several of the boys were awed at Parker's response but a few boys didn't yield.
"My daddy is a famous lawyer who hasn't lost a single case!" shot back another.
"My daddy works for Homeland Security!" added a second youth, angling his eyes challenging at Parker, "Beat that!"
Like his father, Parker stood his ground and refused to surrender the battle, especially when he was completely confident that he would win. "My daddy married the Bones lady! Beat that!"
Her husband, Seeley Booth, jarred her from listening the boys' contest so she wasn't able to hear the many replies to Parker's latest comment. She looked over and beamed amusingly at Booth.
"We've been married for how long and you still call me that?" she teased as he took a seat beside her on the park bench.
"What? It's a cute nickname." Booth joked defensively, putting his arm around her as his gaze switched to Parker and the playground. "How's Parker?"
Brennan laughed and quickly filled him in what had betided while he was away. After hearing about his son's adamancy and his responses, Booth let out a hearty laugh and grinned toothily, evidently pleased.
"That's my boy!" he exclaimed enthusiastically, gentle brown eyes alight with mirth. "That's my boy." He then turned back to Brennan and cast his eyes down at her swollen belly, his expression still endearing and soft.
"What did the doctor say?" he asked, lifting his head back up to hear her answer.
Brennan opened her mouth to tell that the baby was fine but surprisingly, no words came out. She tried again and still, all she heard was nothing. Suddenly, Booth, the playground, the whole world began fading, dissolving into inky darkness while a repetitive voice howled her name in her ear and something–or someone–was violently shaking her.
"Bones! Bones! Bones!"
"What?" the said forensic anthropologist murmured drowsily, blinking her eyes up at an impatient yet beaming Booth, the images of her dream still swirling in her head.
"We got them!" Booth proclaimed triumphantly, slapping the end of the sofa to show his enthusiasm, "One of the thugs had a sister whom he was very devoted to and this sister has been running into the law recently. So Cam and I used her as leverage to make him buckle down and fess up. With his confession and all the evidence we have piled up against them, they're going to get their conviction no matter what."
"Really? Are you certain?" Brennan asked, sitting up while stifling a yawn, "Is there anything I need to do?" She couldn't help but to ponder about the young teenager Robert, wondering what he was feeling now that murderers of his family were going to be brought to justice. Did he have somewhere else to go, someone else in the family who could take him in?
Booth shook his head. "Not right now, Bones. You can just go back to sleep–I just thought you'd like to hear that we busted them. And before you ask, Robert's aunt and uncle just stopped by to bring him home; they're going to be taking care of him for now on."
Relief flooded Brennan's senses. He was in no danger of falling into the system. "Thank you…for telling me," she replied softly, lifting her eyes back up to face Booth, her thoughts now suddenly drifting back to the dream. What did that mean? Was it merely a coincidence that while she was thinking about returning to her original idea of having a baby, she had a dream involving Booth and their child? She didn't even want to comprehend what Sweets would say about the matter.
I'm certain the dream doesn't bear any meaning at all. All those phantasmagoric events are probably a creation of random impulses from my brain–a strange morphing of a physiological stimulation from my life.
Booth gave her a lopsided but charming smile. "No problem, Bones. Now, go back to sleep before Angela kills me for waking you up."
She watched his retreating form, unable to stop herself from admiring the outline of his broad, muscular physique for a couple of brief seconds. Once she realized what she was actually doing, Brennan inwardly rid her head of such nonsense and snuggled herself back into her cocoon of blankets, readjusting the pillow ere she laid her head on it again. As the rational forensic anthropologist closed her eyes and began to drift off into slumber again, she firmly told herself she would not think about Booth–or the previous dream. It was just a silly, random dream with no meaning whatsoever.
Dreams don't mean anything. They never do. They are just physiological stimulation.
Those were the words Brennan told herself over and over again until sleep finally claimed her once more.
So Merry Christmas, everyone, and Happy New Year!