Disclaimer: Bones belongs solely to anyone affiliated with Kathy Reichs, Hart Hanson, Stephen Nathan, and Fox. I'm pretty sure I rank nowhere near that list of awesome XD
WARNING: SEASON 7 SPOILERS AHEAD. I may take a few liberties, spinning fiction particularly at the beginning, but for the most part I'm attempting to keep the actual birth as close to canon as possible, using what I've read about it to form a (hopefully intelligible) short story. THIS INCLUDES SIDES FOR "THE PRISONER IN THE PIPE". Yes, I know approximately where Brennan is supposed to deliver. Yes, it is in this story and again, IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED, TURN BACK NOW. LIKE, RIGHT. NOW.
Author's Note: This is a little drabble that's been rattling around in my brain the last few weeks. It irks me that so far, no one seems to have written anything about the fact that BRENNAN GOES INTO LABOR DURING LOCKDOWN IN A FREAKING PRISON WITH BOOTH! *tsk tsk* And you call yourselves fans! (okay, okay, it's more prison riot-induced lockdown not in any way caused by the new recurring villain than Booth and Brennan actually being locked in a room with Pellant to blame, but hey, it's my story! I like drama!)
Sooo if I can't go to the mountain... I'll bring the mountain to me. Or. Something like that. Ha. And since I'm one of those creepily obsessed individuals who does nothing but sit around and ship her favorite couples all day, squeeing over pretty mental pictures, I now bring you: A GLIMPSE OF ONE OF MY FANTASIES COME TO LIFE! *bwhahaha?*
No really, though. STOP READING IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED IN ANY WAY. Because I will. Profusely.
Okay. You must be like me, then :)
The Deviation in the Delivery
Booth had never before realized just how utterly beautiful that loud buzzing sound could be.
It was like every particle in his body jumped with relief; like he had been holding his breath for the last six straight hours, and only now was allowing himself the luxury of oxygen. They beat him. Somehow, Angela and the squinterns found a way to override Pellant and break them free. Booth wanted to kiss every single fricking person at the Jeffersonian. He would never take anyone there for granted, ever again.
"Look, Bones! We're out!" Booth laughed, collapsing down next to the aforementioned forensic anthropologist and probably sounding less than sane, not that he truly cared. Confinement had never gone over well with the seasoned FBI agent, but it was a whole other beast entirely when you threw in his very pregnant partner girlfriend... and broke her water.
Suffice to say, that moment of pure, unadulterated terror was going to haunt Booth for the rest of his life. The look on Brennan's face, the frantic relay of their situation into a dying cell phone, the guards trying futilely to break in from outside... it was so intensely etched into Booth's memory. Pellant. That bastard. Everything up until this point, it had all played into his hands. What had merely begun as a routine investigation into a prison escape gone wrong- bones wedged inside the pipes; a missing inmate: the math practically did itself- had quickly unravelled into a nightmarish scenario. Brennan panting on the floor, Booth alternating between pacing holes into the concrete and crouching to give moral support... it wasn't good. Brennan had endured the beginning of her labor like a trooper, rarely complaining, but Booth had watched helplessly as her facade of strength slowly crumbled with each passing contraction.
They had both known, with an acute awareness, that it was two and a half weeks too soon.
And that unless their rescuers succeeded, the baby was going to arrive whether anyone was ready for her or not. (She was, after all, the daughter of two of the most headstrong individuals on the face of this planet, Booth had surmised wryly. Kid couldn't even wait three days for Mommy to *finally* agree to go on maternity leave!)
This was why, amidst the welcome cacophony of noise, Booth wasted no time in sweeping Brennan into his arms and murmuring,
"Hold on, Bones. We're almost out and then I'll get us to a hospital, okay? Just hold on."
Brennan moaned against his neck, and Booth felt her sweaty forehead fall against his chest as she nodded in hazy acquiescence.
The special agent and his precious cargo sprang deftly out into freedom only to encounter a crowded hallway, guards pressing in at all sides, making Brennan more uncomfortable than she already was.
"How is she?"
"Do you need anything?"
"The Jeffersonian is on line two; they want to speak with-"
"Excuse me, I need to get through," Booth interrupted curtly, trying to break free of the throng and their barrage of questions. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate their concern, but getting Brennan to a hospital was his number one priority. It irked him that not one of the guards had had the foresight to call for emergency services in all the time they were trapped, but then again, this oversight didn't surprise Booth overmuch. What 'secure' facility let prisoners leave by way of sewer? Clearly, the system was flawed. "Can you let us by?"
The guards were slow on the uptake, not moving until Brennan flinched in his arms. Another contraction. Booth tightened his hold as she rode it out, far from quietly. "I AM ONE HUNDRED PERCENT EFFACED, 8 CENTIMETERS DILATED, AND PAINFULLY GOING THROUGH THE PROCESS OF SQUEEZING-A-BABY-OUT-MY-BODY! MOVE, DAMMIT! OR SO HELP ME I WILL-"
Whatever restitution Brennan intended on collecting died in the wake of her loud, keening cry, and without a word Booth shoved his way through the stunned gatherers. Their surroundings passed in a blur; he sprinted hard until they hit sunlight, dim and fading though it was, and Brennan pleaded-
"Let me walk. I can do it, Booth. Put me down, I can walk to the car by myself."
"It's faster if I carry you," Booth responded, barely sparing the beautiful sunset of smeared crimson and gold a second glance. They had to get out of this wretched place, now.
"I'm not an invalid, I'm just-"
"A hundred percent effaced, eight centimeters dilated, and painfully going through the process of squeezing a baby out your body. Don't argue with me, Bones. Logic is on my side this time."
"Ohhh, you're insufferable," Brennan groaned, her playful tone inflecting halfway through. Booth all-out ran to the SUV as his partner curled in on herself, fingernails unconsciously digging into his chest as she fought to maintain control.
Damn, they were going to be cutting it close...
The siren wailed with an undulating pitch, alerting all on the road to Booth's careening vehicle. He drove with a frighteningly intense expression, only glancing over when Brennan arched in the passenger seat with agony. It terrified- terrified- him that the contractions seemed so close together. The nearest hospital had to be at least ten more miles away; maybe fifteen. But with the way Brennan was gasping and the way traffic had slowed to a crawl, completely oblivious to his panic, Booth was truly uncertain they would make it.
Apparently, Brennan's thought process travelled along the same line. She rolled her head Booth's direction. "I think... I think you should pull over."
"What? No! Bones-"
"I'm not trying to be contrary. I'm not arguing. I'm not going to make it to the hospital! You've got to pull over, please!"
Booth's heart did a sickening somersault, lodging itself somewhere in the vicinity of his throat. His steering, frantic before, now entered the category of 'mad'. They didn't escape a prison lockdown just to have their little girl greet the world from the backseat of a dirty, FBI-issue car! "We'll make it!"
Brennan howled as if she'd been kicked, doubling over, her hands leaping up to clutch her swollen stomach. "BOOTH! Pull over! NOW!"
He didn't want to. He really, really did not want to. It wasn't supposed to happen like this! But the bedraggled scientist ordered her need so fiercely, Booth knew: it was going to happen like this. It was going to happen exactly like this. Fate was just a bitch like that.
He scanned their surroundings for a moment, noticing up ahead a sign for an auspicious-looking inn. Bingo. At least here, the pair would find shelter, warmth, and help. Plus it was a hell of a lot better a place to deliver in than his SUV on the side of the road.
"Alright, alright, no problem. Keep holding on, Bones. I got it covered."
The situation was not as cut and dried as Booth first assumed.
Apparently, the inn was hosting a large-scale wine-tasting banquet. Vinos and other connoisseurs had travelled the world over just to be here, on this one important day for this one can't-miss-it event. A lilting waltz filled the air, creating a dignified, cultured sort of ambience. Guests in fancy attire milled everywhere Booth and Brennan turned. Neither commented on this latest snag in their plan, but Booth refused to adopt a defeatist attitude. Instead he marched straight up to the front desk, one arm tucked protectively around Brennan (she had put up quite a fight in the car about not wanting to appear helpless when Booth offered to carry her again), the other reaching for his badge.
"FBI. This is an emergency! We need a room."
"No vacancies," the man- Andy Brimmer, his namecard declared in pompously shiny silver print- sneered. His eyes flicked from Brennan to Booth and back again, obviously aware of what was going on and yet displeased it had to happen in his establishment. But Brennan, leaning against Booth for support, would have none of this.
"Listen here, sir! If you don't find us a room, right now, I am going to lie down, spread my legs, and start pushing on the floor of your lobby-"
"Shhhh!" Andy implored, suddenly flustered as he glanced around to make sure no one had heard the scientist's threat. "Fine. Fine. There's a lovely little private building out back. Normally visitors aren't allowed without a pricey reservation and V.I.P. status, but do what you want. I'll call EMTs, just get. out. of. my. lobby! I've got millions banking on the success of this function, and you're upsetting my guests!"
"Don't forget I work for the government, buddy-"
"Thank you," Brennan gritted out with a wince, ignoring Andy's reckless waves and Booth's furious sputtering as she dragged her partner out the door. "C'mon, Booth. I- ow- I wasn't joking when I said- agggghhhh- that I needed... to push."
It wasn't until Booth was kneeling in front of Brennan's open legs, staring into her gaping snatch that he realized,
I don't know what the hell I'm doing.
He said as much to Brennan, and the woman currently counting through a contraction as she bore down let out a horribly choked laugh. "We bickered so much over where... the baby should be born. I guess neither of us were prepared... for the posssibili- oh oh ohhh- possibility that she was g-going to arrive somewhere no one was e-expecting." Brennan licked her lips, eyes fluttering hither and thither as she sought distraction from the consuming fire in her abdomen.
"I wish we had ice," she moaned.
"I can check the fridge. I could-"
"No. No, stay with me, Booth. She's coming. Fast. I can feel it."
"Bones, I really don't know what I'm doing," Booth said again, desperately afraid. What if something went wrong, and the EMTs were too late? He hadn't even been there for Parker's birth, only the aftermath. Fatherhood? He had plenty of experience in that department. Delivery? ...not so much.
"You just have to c-catch the baby. Wrap her in your jacket so she's warm. The umbilical cord can be severed la- Ughhhhh!"
"Breathe, breathe. In, out," Booth coached, grabbing Brennan's knee and giving it a squeeze. "Good!"
Brennan relaxed slightly as her contraction crested and then ebbed. "Honestly, you've got the easy part. I'm pulling double duty over here!" she teased, glistening countenance stretching as she smiled. Booth chuckled quietly as she reached for his hand. He kissed it hard when the forensic anthropologist increased her grip, crying out.
"Yes. Yes, you are. And you're doing such a great job," he encouraged. "You... oh my God! Bones! I- is that the head? I think I see the head!"
"It means... she's crowning..." Brennan sobbed. "Agghhh, Booth!"
Booth gazed with utter amazement at the beautiful sight of his daughter mid-breach. It was just a teaser- dark, wet curls on a soft scalp- but to Booth, the glimpse was practically a miracle unto itself. She was here. In this room. With them. That fact had never hit Booth quite so intensely than it did in this instant.
"Keep pushing! You're almost there!"
"No. No. Booth, I can't, I can't-"
"Bones, look down, look- she's almost with us!"
Brennan complied, and as she caught glimpse of her daughter's head, something shifted in her expression.
"You can do this, I know you can-"
Brennan shook her head wildly, and Booth paused his cheerleading, watching concernedly as his partner froze up.
"Bones? Don't stop. Don't fight it. You have to let the baby go-"
Brennan's mouth quivered as she finally gazed back up at him, overwhelmed blue eyes locking onto Booth's solicitous brown.
"No. Booth- Booth, I'm scared," she whispered. "I'm so scared to be a mother."
Booth leaned forward and cupped her cheek, wiping away a stray tear as it tracked a forlorn path. "Hey, hey. Don't think about that. Think about... think about your mom. Think about Christine Brennan, and how much she inspired you, and how much she loved you. Every new parent gets scared. Heck, I'm scared, and I've already got one! But love, Bones. Love is all you truly need. Everything else will come with time."
Brennan nodded slowly, and Booth saw the light of acceptance burgeoning in her eyes. She understood.
"I'm right here with you, Bones. I'll always be with you. You'll never be alone."
"Always and never are subjective terms. You cannot promise that which is subjective," Brennan corrected, and Booth had to grin. She was getting her spark back; her vigor.
"I think I just did."
"You're insufferable," Brennan muttered weakly. She bit her lip, and Booth noticed the contraction building.
"Okay Bones, I want you to give it everything you've got! Big pushes!"
Minutes or maybe hours later- it was impossible to tell; time seemed to have simply ceased to be- the newest member of the Booth family lay cradled in Brennan's arms as EMTs took stock of mother and child from within the ambulance. The girl was small for a newborn, but not in an unhealthy way. With rosy cheeks, downy brown hair, and- as Brennan reminded him- Booth's prominent mental protuberance, she couldn't have been more perfect. The new father (again, he recalled fondly, excited at the prospect of Parker getting to meet his sister tomorrow) was mesmerized. He almost wanted to pinch himself, just prove this was real. That he was truly a family, with Brennan. Words could not describe how content he felt. Except, maybe... Complete. Yes. Yes, that summed it up quite accurately. A feeling of completion.
"You didn't freak out as much as I thought you would."
"What?" Booth was yanked from reverie by Brennan's playfully gentle observation.
"Catching the baby. You seemed so nervous at first, but you were a natural."
"Well, I did have the world reknowned Temperance Brennan shouting directions in my face the whole time. It was hard not to," Booth ribbed. He gazed back down at their daughter with a loving smile. "We did good, Bones."
"I suppose if you want to put it that way..." Brennan giggled, a touch tearfully, and Booth knew it wasn't just hormones. They were both still weak-kneed and on edge emotionally, in the wake of that beautiful, beautiful moment when Baby Girl Booth slipped home. Little had ever made Booth cry, but he'd wept just as vociferously as Brennan when together, they swept up their daughter and welcomed her into their lives. "Booth... I- I've been thinking. I'd like to name her Christine."
"After your mom?"
"You were right. She did love me. And she does inspire me, now more than ever, perhaps. I'm going to need those memories when we raise our daughter. Christine is- well, it would be very special to me. Do you approve?"
Booth captured Brennan's lips in a tender kiss. "I do. What is important to you, is important to me. And besides, Christine is very pretty. It suits her."
He rested a hand against Christine's chest, feeling her tiny heart beating away. Amazing how something so simple could bring so much joy.
"Thank you, Booth," Brennan said sincerely. "I love you."
"And I love you."
Brennan scrunched up her face. "Oh, look at me! I've never been so weepy in my life!"
"It's totally normal," Booth laughed, rubbing her cheek with the pad of his thumb. He started when a warm hand unconsciously wrapped itself around his finger. Booth nearly squeed when he saw that Christine's infant reflexes had kicked in. "Aw! Who's got daddy wrapped around her finger? Who's daddy's little itty bitty princess? Chrissy is! Chrissy is daddy's itty bitty-"
"Princess? I will let slip as an acceptable moniker of affection. But Chrissy? Not my daughter!"
"What are you talking about? Chrissy is an adorable-"
"The nickname. Is not. Negotiatable."
"Well, c'mon, maybe you should let her decide-"
"She's not even an hour old!"
"-when she gets older. Isn't that what self-actualization is all about?"
"Yes, well, until then, we will call her by her given name- Christine. There will be no other deviations, save for-"
"Chrissy, Chrissy, Chrissy poo! Daddy looooves you!"
Worlds away, Christine Booth slept, Daddy's hand still trapped in hers and Mommy's chest comforting against her swathed body. Her parents' familiar bickering overhead lulled the child into deeper slumber.
...she had grown quite accustomed to it in utero, you see.
Author's Note: And that's a wrap! Sorry if the ending is a little lame -.- That's always the worst part! Well, except for the beginning. I never know how to start off! But I digress. Thanks for reading! Any reviews are appreciated!