JBCFlyers19, mendenbar, elmasuz, DorothyOz, daisesndaffidols, Sara, PLK Susie and Nertooold54 wanted me to continue the story idea I used in chapter 68 of my story "Personal Effects".
This chapter is a repost of chapter 68 of "Personal Effects". Chapter 2 is a continuation of the story.
This takes place after "The End in the Beginning" and this story is definitely AU.
I don't own Bones.
He'd been asleep and dreamt a dream like no other. This dream gave him all that he'd ever wanted. He had friends that loved him, an interesting job and the most important thing of all, he had a wife, someone who loved him and cared if he lived or died.
When he'd awakened he'd found himself in a world he wasn't sure he wanted anymore. He had opened his eyes to find himself looking at the one he loved and knew wasn't his. Looking into her face he found himself facing a dilemma. She was his wife in his dream, but awake he knew her as the anthropologist that helped him get justice for Gemma Arrington. After they had finished that case they had fought and in the end she had told him that she hated him and never wanted to work with him again.
How did his life become so screwed up?
He awoke and seeing her looming over him, had asked her, "Who are you?"
Stunned at his question, Brennan stared at her partner and best friend and found herself speechless. Trying to overcome the fright his words gave her, she leaned over him and found the strength she needed. "Booth, don't you know me?"
Booth looked at Brennan's panicked face and knew she was afraid. "Yes, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. You're Dr. Temperance Brennan. You work at the Jeffersonian."
Relieved that he knew who she was, Brennan smiled in relief. "Thank goodness. I was afraid that your memory had become faulty. Brain surgery can affect memory sometimes. Some times temporarily and some times permanently."
Confused, Booth glanced at the tubes running to his arm and then back at his visitor. "Where am I? It looks like I'm in a hospital. Was I shot?"
Worried about his memory, Brennan hoped that it was just the drugs effecting him. "You had brain surgery. You had a small tumor and had to have it removed. It wasn't malignant, so you will make a full recovery."
Frightened, Booth blurted out, "A brain tumor? I had a brain tumor?"
She knew he was afraid and she needed to assure him that he was alright. "Yes, but it wasn't malignant. It was a benign tumor. You are going to be okay, Booth."
Strangely comforted by her words, Booth stared at Brennan. "Okay . . . um, that's good . . . uh, why are you here?"
Not sure why he didn't expect her to be by his side, Brennan slowly shook her head. "I'm not sure what you mean."
His own confusion growing, Booth struggled to understand what was going on. "I don't understand why you're visiting me in the hospital. The last time we talked, you slapped me and called me a bully and you told me that you didn't want to work with me."
Feeling faint, Brennan asked him, "Booth, I'm not sure I understand. What was the last case you remember us working on together?"
Puzzled, Booth wondered why she would ask him a question like that. "We've only ever worked on one case together, Dr. Brennan. You helped me prove that Judge Hasty killed Gemma Arrington. I'd have liked to work with you on more cases, but you've refused to take my phone calls."
Shaking her head in disbelief, Brennan slowly backed away from the bed. Finally stopping, Brennan found herself near the doorway to the room. Afraid, she leaned down, picked up her purse and lap top and left the room.
Booth watched her reaction to his words and was stunned when she abruptly left the room without saying another word. "What the Hell is going on? Someone please tell what is going on."
Booth had been alone for about an hour when Cam walked into the hospital room. Relieved to see a familiar face, Booth exclaimed, "Cam, thank God you're here. You need to tell me what's going on."
Puzzled, Cam walked over to the bed, her eyes flicking around the room. "Booth, I thought Dr. Brennan was here. If I'd known she was going to leave, I would have come sooner. How long have you been alone?"
Slowly shaking his head, Booth begged her to explain. "Cam you need to tell me why she was here. She wouldn't tell me. She just ran away. She said I had a brain tumor, but it's not fatal and then I asked her why she was visiting me in the hospital and she just ran away. She was afraid and I don't know why. What the Hell is going on? I don't know what's going on."
A little frightened of Booth's confusion, Cam tried to determine why he was saying the things he was saying. "Booth, I'm not sure what you're saying. Why wouldn't Dr. Brennan be here? She's your partner and as far as I know, you're best friend. Why wouldn't she be here?"
His voice suddenly dry, Booth swallowed, closed his eyes and clenched his fists. "Cam, I don't know what you're talking about. Dr. Brennan hates me. The last time I talked to her she called me a bully and said she'd never work with me again. She's refused every call I've made to her for the last seven months. I thought she was supposed to be coming back from Guatemala in a couple of days and I'd made arrangements with a buddy of mine in Homeland Security to help me get close enough to her to talk to her about Cleo Eller . . . Wait how come you're here? I thought you were in New York again?"
Afraid for Booth, Cam ran her right hand across her mouth. "Booth there's something wrong with your memory. You worked on the Cleo Eller case about three and half years ago."
Placing his hands across his eyes, Booth whispered, "Oh God."
A little twist in a perfectly good story. What can I say?