A Boy From Philly (Rated M, friendship, fluff, angst)

He knocked lightly on the door frame. The woman didn't turn around. She hardly noticed the noise. She was too focused on the steady whoosh of oxygen through the nasal cannula.

At sixty-seven she looked so frail. So tired and wasted and it tore his heart out to see his mother like that. Of course, if truth be told, he was used to seeing his mother like that. Strong when her husband was away, but weak when he was near.

He blinked. A distant memory bubbled to light. A memory so full of pain and hurt that it took every bit of his strength not to be fall to his knees from it.

Her hands plunged into soapy water. Bits of food clung to the dish. She scrubbed it off with her thumb nail, gave it a rinse under steaming hot water and placed it on the rack with the others.

A boy of ten sat at the kitchen table coloring a Superman color book with deep concentration that caused his lips to purse.

His mother dried her hands and sighed. She turned to her son and smiled, a hand resting on her skirted hip, "Did you get your homework done, Seeley?"

"Yeah," he replied absently, not raising his head or crayon.

"How about your chores?" The phone rang and she walked across the kitchen and answered the phone. "Yeah. Hold on." She covered the mouthpiece. "Your dad's gonna be home any second. You should get a move on." She uncovered the mouthpiece, "Hi, Beatrice. Just about to start supper. You?"

The door swung open. The boy watched his father cross the kitchen, set his stained white-turned-gray plastic cooler on the table. He ruffled his son's hair. "Hey, boy." His breath was heavy with a certain familiar odor. His next destination was the Frigidaire. Jars and containers jingled as the door jerked open. "Where's dinner, Nan?"

"Just a minute, hun." She then whispered quickly to her friend, "I should probably go."

"Hell yes, you should go." He reached out and took the phone from his wife and hung it on the receiver.

A pink blush grew on Anne's neck. "You didn't need to do that, Mike. I was going to hang up."

"Yeah. After you talked shop with the girls and started telling Barb all about how I smack you around. That's what it is, isn't it? You tell her I hit you, don't you? F-ck!"

"Alright, now you're just being paranoi--" She didn't finish the sentence. Her eyes grew slightly wider when she realized she had crossed that line. That indefinable line. The line that was so thin that it was often penetrated before she had a chance to stop herself.

He simply gritted his teeth.

The boy in the corner quietly pushed back his chair and slid under the table. He made himself as small as possible and hoped that everything would blow over. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"So you think you're Queen of the Whole Damn World, now, don't you?!" Mike Booth never hesitated to his his wife. His hand was swift. It shot out and made perfect contact with the porcelain white skin of Anne's right cheek. She covered it with a shaking hand.

"Ow! Th-That's not what a meant!" She fought back tears.

"That's a bunch of cock-sucking bull-shit, Nan!" He stalked away from her and went back to the refrigerator. "F-ck my balls. I told you to pick up some Bud, right?"

His eyes shot to the woman who now shook head to toe in the corner of the kitchen.

"F-cking cunt sack of shit."

"I'm sorry. I just got busy. The boys needed to get to baseball earlier today and you wanted the dishes done. I- I didn't have time to swing by the store. I can do it now if you want."

"I can do it now if you want," he mocked.

"There's no need to degrade me," she muttered.

"Degrade you? Is that what you tell Beatrice? I degrade you? F-ck me, Nan! Go burn a f-cking bra!"

"I-I'm just saying that--" Her bottom lip trembled, unsure of how she should go about the whole thing.

He whipped the phone off the receiver and backhanded her with the phone, splitting her cheek open.

Seeley sunk lower and held onto the leg of the table. Some day, he told himself. Some day he would be bigger than his dad.

"Ah!" Her trembling fingers touched the bloody tissue on her cheek. It was only a fraction of a second before Mike wrapped the yellow cord around her neck and shoved her roughly against the wall.

"Please--" She sputtered, hot tears slipping down her cheeks.

"Dad?" Three sets of eyes went to the doorway. Six year old Jared stood there, eyes brimming with tears. "Just leave mom alone, OK?!"

The phone dropped to the ground. Mike began to move toward his youngest son, eyes trained, a deep crevice digging between his eyes.

"No! Mike, no! He's just six!" His wife begged.

Seeley knew his mom was right. Jared was just six. Hardly old enough or big enough to protect himself. He scrambled from beneath the table and grabbed the nearest thing. A half-full glass of milk, which, thanks to baseball practice, he quite accurately chucked at his father's head.

Blazing eyes settled on the elder Booth brother.

Now a man, he stood at his father's hospital room door. He rapped again softly so as to not frighten his mother. Several silent seconds passed before he finally spoke. "Mom?"

She turned and smiled genuinely at Booth. She stood. Her once red hair was now white. Her hazel eyes were as bright and alive as ever. Spirit. Anne Booth had spirit. And spunk. What kind of woman would she have been if she had never married Michael Booth? Probably the same kind of woman that was on her son's #1 speed dial. Fiery and precocious. To her sisters and mother, that was the saddest thing of their 15 year marriage. The fact that she had gone from wild and fun teenager to guilt-ridden and broken woman within a matter of years.

"How's dad?" He asked as he embraced his mother.

"Breathing," she replied seriously, but her eyes glinted slightly. Maybe there was a little fire in there, yet. "The oncologist should be in any minute." She smiled at her son. And she felt the usual swell of pride. Her son. The boy she birthed was now a grown, handsome, successful FBI agent. And better yet, he was caring and intelligent, sweet and faithful. What a blessing! Despite the pain she'd endured to raise her sons right, she was confident that she had done something right with Seeley Booth. "How's my FBI agent son doing?"

He smiled and sat beside her, pulling up a stool and rolling it next to his mother's seat. He shrugged. "It's going fine. Cullen keeps offering me promotions, so it must be going fine."

"Offering? You're not accepting?" She looked at him quizzically.

Booth smiled, "I'm happy where I am, mom."

She nodded knowingly. "It's that partner of yours."

"Bones?"

This time she smiled at him. "Temperance is a wonderful young lady."

"Yeah, she is. But that's not why I haven't accepted. I really like my job, mom. Maybe I'll accept his offer when I'm too old to run." A cocky grin.

She smiled and chuckled lightly. Then her eyes fell on Mike. His skin was gray. He slept lightly. His bottom lip poked out unnaturally, it was the color of an eggplant. "I was wondering if you would help me go through my own Last Wishes and Final Arrangements."

Booth tipped his. His teeth gritted together, "Mom, you're sixty-five."

"Sixty-seven. And it's obviously not too young for your dad to die."

A measuring minute or two passed. Booth's eyes fell on his father. Gray. Ill. Dying. Then he looked at his mom again. "OK, mom," he replied softly.

She swallowed. She got that 'brave' look on her face that he was so acquainted with. "If it helps you any, I've already given it quite a bit of thought."

He looked over at his mom. He sighed and reached for her hand. Once chubby, now it seemed so much thinner. He ran his thumb across her knuckles.

"IV fluids and tube feeding only."

"Mom--"

"I worked Hospice Care for twenty years, hun. Nothing's more painful than dehydrating to death." She sighed and looked at her ex-husband. A man who, despite her better judgment, was somebody she had always loved. Her hand stroked his gently. "Under no circumstances will I be on life support. Unless it's something curable like pneumonia or something. I just don't want to be a burden to anyone."

"You're not a burden, mom. You never have been. You never will be."

She smiled softly. The smile faded. "You deserved a better childhood, Seeley. You deserved a normal childhood."

He leaned forward, elbows on knees. His face close to hers. "I'm beginning to think there's no such thing, mom. Everybody has their issues. Sometimes it's just what you do with the hand you're dealt."

"You're awfully philosophical, sweetie. Been spending time with that genius partner of yours, huh?"

"She hates psychology. I'm sure philosophy isn't too far off."

She squeezed her son's hand, simultaneously releasing Mike's.

A soft rap at the door. Both sets of eyes raised and watched as a young doctor, mid-thirties, brown curly hair and brown eyes entered the hospital room.

"I'm Dr. Sweeney. I'll be looking after Mike's oncological needs." She held out a hand. Booth gripped it and smiled. Anne gripped it and smiled.

Dr. Sweeney looked around for her stool. Booth realized it was under his own bottom. "Sorry," he raised to a half stand.

"No. No, keep it. I'll just stand. This will just take a minute."

Booth sat and held his mom's hand.

"This is my son, Seeley," Anne spoke.

"Nice to meet you. Anne, Seeley, Mike. Dr. Sweeney. Or Rachel if you like. We might be getting to know one another pretty well." She stood by Mike and checked his vitals. "Has he woken up at all?"

"Um, just for a minute. He wanted a sip of water." Anne.

"Good, good. Has he complained about pain at all?"

"Earlier this morning. A nurse came in and gave him something."

"Hydromorphone and morphine. That'll sedate him pretty good," the doctor smirked.

"I'll say," Booth muttered.

She looked him a question.

"I've been shot. A lot. Blown up, stabbed, burned..." This time a look of a amused disbelief. "I'm an FBI agent."

"Well, then I guess you and morphine have an intimate relationship."

Booth chuckled. "Yeah. I tried to bring her home to meet the parents, but that's when I realized that our relationship was watery."

"You're funny," she smiled. Then she became serious and pulled out the tablet in her hands. "Are you up to speed on your dad's condition?"

Mother and son exchanged looks, "Not... not really. Just lay it on me, doc. Tell me everything."

"Everything? OK, I'll just give you the low-down. Alcoholism is linked to a number of cancers. Most notably the larynx, colon, esophagus, and liver. Apparently your dad doesn't like doctors or scientists. So," she scanned the folder. "When your dad was admitted in May, he was diagnosed with Stage 4 Colorectal Cancer. It wasn't long after that we discovered it had become Metastatic."

"What--What's that?"

She hugged the folder to her chest. "Metastasis involves spread of cancer cells through the bloodstream, or the lymph system. Distant, or metastatic spread generally occurs when cancer cells break off from tumors and enter the bloodstream, travel to other organs, and continue to grow into new tumors"

"So he basically had cancer all over the place when he came in," he finished with a resigned air, running one hand through his hair.

"I am so very sorry," Dr. Sweeney said sincerely. Then after a beat, "If you have any more questions on your father's condition, please feel free to call me. I make sure I'm always available for my patients and their families." She took out a card and handed it to Booth. Anne was crying into her sleeve by that moment.

Booth reached over and rubbed his mother's back slowly, quietly letting her sob. Rachel rose and walked toward the door.

"Wait," Booth said, turning to Dr. Sweeney.

She turned and looked over her shoulder.

"How... how long?"

"Weeks. Days. Not very long at all. I'm sorry."

Booth bit his lip and pulled his mother closer into a hug.

"Maybe I'll accept his offer when I'm too old to run."
Made me hate to think where'd he learned to run and why. This was good and sad. And whereas usually I'm always all about life, I was glad to hear of his father's short life expectancy. It feels like a simple fact to me--You don't hit. I get that they feel weak, and so try to place other people below them, etc. etc. but it's so fundamentally wrong. Why must the weak victimize the strong?

Anyway, excellently written.

I agree, excellently written, as always. Ma, you've got a way with words! Your stories are always well done. Kudos!


Random thing...I was watching the first season finale just now...and one of the crew guys who is examining Bren's family car...I'm pretty sure he's 'Chip' from the elevator episode. Pretty sure. Maybe. Possibly. Perchance. I'm shutting up now.

Thank you. I started brain-storming this story a while ago. But I only started to write it after my mom's health issues (more recent issues, that is) came to light. I think this story will be heartwarming and sweet. It'll be bitter-sweet at times, too. But I think it'll become a good one.

ForensicMama wrote:I think it'll become a good one.

Me too!
It's so sad what happend to Booth as a child......
But it's written really good....and I love his mom.....
Maybe we will even get some B/B in there?
It's okay if not, but I think it would make his mom happy.....to see that her son is happy....

that was just so brillaint, sad and wow. I loved it and its really well written x

It's so hard to read domestic violence. But there's Booth, protecting his baby brother; he started young. Thanks, Mama. I'll be looking forward to the rest of it.

Thank you all for reading. I'm sure some of this will be bitter-sweet. But I'm really excited about this. It's a different tone than I usually write in a story.

Part II

Booth sunk lower into the waiting room chair. In his right hand was a cup of lukewarm hospital coffee.

He took a sip and grimaced. I take that back. Luke-warm and burnt hospital coffee.

Anne had gone home to take a nap before taking the night shift, leaving her son to watch over his father for a few hours.

His father was in his room having his colostomy bag changed and therefore he was not welcome. Mike Booth may have been dying, but he knew enough to save his son the embarrassment of that particular process. Not to mention, a very feisty older nurse quickly shoved him out of the room.

Either way, Booth had seen enough gruesome grossness in his twelve and a half year career to last him a lifetime. He wouldn't have stayed if someone had payed him. Nobody needs those memories to be among the last ones they have of their father.

The clocked on the opposite wall ticked-tick-ticked around its center point.

"Woah! We're half way the-ere! Woa-oh! Livin' on a prayer!" A few nurses turned toward the phone that was making all of the racket. Bones had messed with his phone before the summer hiatus, switching his ring tone from its business-like preset tone to Bon Jovi's Living on a Prayer. An interesting choice of music. One which Booth didn't try to psychoanalyze. It wasn't much of a surprise. Bon Jovi, that is, wasn't a surprise. He knew that Bones was a closet 80s rock-a-holic. "Take my hand, we'll make it I swea-ear! Woa-oh! Livin' on a prayer!"

Nah. Brennan wasn't the type of woman who sent secret messages via musica to her partner.

"Sorry," Booth said, standing. "I'll just take this--" Glares all around. "Yeah."

He pressed the little green glowing phone button when he got outside. The summer sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon. So that would put it roughly at 7:30 PM.

"Hey, Bones."

Brennan was rolling a bag into the back of her car. She lifted it and placed it into the back of her Toyota. "Three rings?"

"Huh?"

"It took you three rings to answer." She slammed the back of her car.

"Sorry, Bones. I was in the hospit--a library." Nice recovery. And he knew it.

"Wait. No. You were going to say a hospital. Why are you at a hospital?" She climbed into the Toyota and started the engine. "Is Parker OK?"

"Yeah, yeah. Parker's OK."

"Rebecca?"

"Yeah."

"Jared?"

"Look, Bones--"

"It's your mom, isn't it?"

He couldn't help but to crack a smile, "No, Bones. It's not my mom."

"Oh." She had figured it out and Booth could tell from the way she uttered that syllable. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"How do you know it's not a broken hip or something? He's sixty-eight." Booth spotted a discarded cigarette that was still glowing on the sidewalk. He smudged it out, pressing one hand into his pocket.

Brennan backed out onto the main road and began to drive toward 295 South. "Taking into account the fact that he is an alcoholic, the fact that you left for your vacation two days early, and that you've been in a hospital ever since, I'd assume that it's something... serious. It is, isn't it?"

Booth turned toward the doors in time to see a woman in sweats and holding a tiny newborn being wheeled out by a nurse in Spongebob scrubs. The doors slid open. A bright-eyed husband pulled up in a Kia Sedona and ushered her toward the car excitedly. Such a stark contrast.

"Yeah. Yeah it is." Temperance Brennan. She never ceased to amaze him. One minute she was completely naive to the emotions and inner-workings of others. The next, she was reading him like some sort of anthropological book. "For someone who doesn't read people very well, Bones, you sure do pretty well at reading me."

Something in his voice made her do a U-Turn. "What hospital are you at?"

"Thomas Jefferson. Why?"

"Will you be there three hours from now?"

"Probably not. Bones, you don't have to come here."

"But I think I should."

"When does your flight leave?"

"It doesn't matter. Where are you staying?"

"Mom's."

She smiled, "And where exactly is 'Mom's'"?

"I'll text you directions. Bones, you don't have to do this."

"Who else will be there for you? Logically speaking, Booth, Jared is utterly dependent on you. You're probably comforting your mother through this all, and you need a friend." It didn't make too much sense to her. Even with all of her logic. But she had lost her own father once. She had lost her mother. How different would life have been if she had Booth as a friend when she was fifteen?

"Bones. I've got friends in Philly."

Silently, she replied, "But you don't have a Bones."

Booth smiled and shook his head. The sky lit afire as the sun disappeared, hitting the apex of the hills. "No. I guess I don't."

"I'll be there in a few hours."

And now it's Bones turn to come to the rescue. I like it, Mama!

like the different tone. glad that she is going without being asked.

Part III

It might sound impossible, loving someone that has hurt you your entire life, but it was a reality for Seeley Booth. And it was most definitely a reality for Anne Booth. With the only exception being that Booth loved his dad, and Anne was in love with her ex-husband. She always has been. And it might be safe to say that nobody was more crushed when Anne and Mike divorced than Anne herself.

While Booth napped on his mother's couch, waiting for his partner to arrive, every dream was plagued with a dad-themed nightmare. Some were bitter-sweet. Others were just plain horrific.

When he was eleven years old, and still sadly pre-pubescent, his mother pulled in front of Mountain View Middle School in their old brown Station Wagon. Well, is old now, but it was nice then. Another one of those, "I'm sorry; I'll never hit you again" rewards from Mike.

It was a hot day in May, almost unusually warm, but Nan was wearing a long sleeved- turtle neck shirt. Large 80s-style frames obscured most of her face and her long hair was let down. She either looked like a bank robber... or a victim of abuse.

And he remembered it clearly. School was coming to a close. And Jared was being a pest. The boys ran out of the school, their Nike shoes, shoes that their family couldn't afford, but Mike insisted on purchasing, hit the pavement as they ran side by side arguing. One hitting the other. The other hitting back. Seeley gave Jared a good shove. He tumbled into the grass.

Seeley laughed. Jared was quick to call him the worst thing he could come up with at seven years old.

"Stupid head!"

That wasn't enough to provoke young Booth. "Yeah, well you're the reason we don't have a little sister. One look at you and mom said, 'No more kids!'"

Jared gritted his teeth and within seconds, the two boys had tackled one another on the front lawn of the Middle School. Parents and children who were waiting for buses split like the Red Sea, pointed, looked shocked. A few teachers began to move toward the tussling brothers.

Anne quickly jumped out of the vehicle and ran toward the boys. Her worst fears were coming true before her eyes. They saw their father hitting them and now they were passing along the violence. She tried not to think of that, though. It was too hard to think that she could have fault in how her sons were acting out by staying with their father.

"Stop!" She yelled. "Seeley! Jared! Knock it off now!" She jogged across the lawn and grabbed hold of Seeley's arm, since he was on top, and yanked him to his feet. "What are you doing?'

"You are the sister!" Jared shrieked at Seeley.

The elder brother wriggled out of his mother's grasp and pounced on Jared once again. All of the fury and rage over the past decade of his life were over boiling. "I hate you! You're stupid! And ugly!"

"You're stupid!"

"You're a f-cking cunt!" Where had Seeley heard those words before?

"Stop! Stop right now!" Anne yelled. She grabbed hold of her son's arms. One hand on Seeley, the other on Jared. Somehow, Anne was knocked off balance with an elbow to the face. Sunglasses went in one direction, Anne went in another.

She fell backward and Booth knew immediately that he had caused physical pain to his mother. Such guilt. Such tremendous guilt. The self-proclaimed protector had become part of the violence.

He quickly got off his brother to help his mother.

She was on the ground. No more sunglasses to disguise the large black bruise that covered her left eye and most of her cheekbone.

And he realized what was beneath the sweater. Beneath a thick layer of synthetic fibers was a broken woman who was covered in bruises.

A knock at the door roused him from the dream. He sat up on the couch and ran hand through sleep-ruffled hair.

He opened the door for Brennan.

She stood in front of him wearing what she normally wears on a dig. Green cargo pants, a tank top, and white over-shirt.

"You didn't have to dress up for me," he teased, taking her bag.

She only smiled and pushed past him, "This is what I always wear on digs."

"What about Belize?"

Instead of sitting down, she began to look around the small living room. It was about as big as her bedroom. Smaller, actually. "Belize will wait. I'll email Professor Ruiz tomorrow. I wasn't going to be the only forensic anthropologist, anyway." She came across a photo on the mantle. Two boys. The oldest one, obviously Booth, was around eleven. Hair parted in the way that he parted it when they first started working together. Jared's hair was crew-cut. They looked like miniatures of themselves. "You were cute, Booth."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he muttered as he sat on the sofa.

She turned toward him, "What's wrong? I mean, besides the obvious."

For a moment, he pondered whether or not he should divulge more information about his past to Brennan. He shook his head, "Just can't sleep."

She sat beside him, photo in hand. "I'm sorry." What else could she have said? "Where's Anne?"

"Hm?"

"I wanted to finally meet her in person."

"She's at the hospital sitting with dad."

"She is?"

He looked up at her curiously.

"I just don't understand, I guess."

He laughed, "Me, neither."

"I thought they were divorced."

"Yeah, well, they are. Sometimes that doesn't make people stop loving each other." He rose and grabbed Brennan's bag. "You can take the spare room."

"What? It's only 10:30."

"Yeah. Bedtime."

She shook her head, "I'm a night-owl. I don't go to bed until one or two." Then she grinned, "You should show me around Philadelphia. Wanna get some drinks?"

He chuckled and pointed at her, "You know what, Bones? You're a girl after my own heart."

"Woman," she corrected him.

He just smiled as he led her out the door.

---

"You'll like this place, Bones. Trust me."

"I thought we were getting drinks."

"Well, as it turns out, there's something better than waking up with a migraine."

She stopped in front of the glowing sign, "Ice cream?"

"Bassett's, Bones." He opened the door for her.

She didn't budge. "It goes straight to my thighs," she muttered.

"Well, if it does, I've never noticed." Flirtatious smile.

She rolled her eyes slightly and they entered the ice cream parlor.

Even at a quarter after eleven, a few people were still ordering ice cream.

"I don't get it. Nutritionally speaking," she began.

"Bones, people don't always think about nutrition when they're having a sugar craving." He looked over at her. Her blue eyes were studying the menu. And he couldn't help but to smile. He had felt so lonely for the past week, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders once again. Just like when he was a child. It was like he was reliving his childhood all over again. And he hated it. Seeing his mom break down in front of him day after day. And he had to be the pillar. The only pillar. And it was far from easy. He was glad that Bones was there. Even if Belize had to wait its turn.

"Booth?"

He blinked.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm just glad you're here, Bones. You're right. I've been needing a friend."

She smiled back at him, "OK. Now, tell me what to get."

"Well, as it turns out, you can get your alcohol and eat it, too here."

"What?"

"Rum Raisin's my favorite, but Champagne Sorbet's pretty good."

She moved her eyes back to the menu. "I can't choose."

"How about, you get one and I'll get the other."

"I don't see how that solves my conundrum."

"Well, if I get one and you get the other, then you get to try both."

"Sounds like a deal."

I'm glad she chose him without him asking. I would really like to see more of Bones being there for Booth. A more equal friendship is necessary before a great relationship. Poor Booth having to relieve it all, I'm glad there's someone to just love him whom he doesn't have to be strong for.

I'm glad you like it!

Part IV

Their voices invaded his dreams. One minute, he was swinging on the rope. Back and forth, over the water and back to shore. And in the next, his mom and Brennan were walking through the woods, arm in arm, talking about banana bread ingredients.

"My gran always used fresh walnuts. She picked them and toasted them herself."

"When I was 27, I went on a dig in Cairo. The locals showed me how to toast locusts."

Anne laughed lightly, "You'll have to show me that particular skill some day."

"Locusts aren't as abundant in the states."

Booth's eyes fluttered open at the sound of his mother's laughter.

Brennan noticed him stirring. She walked over, banana bread muffin in hand, and sat beside him on the couch. "Muffin?"

"Thanks, Bones."

"Woah," she covered her nose. "Dinosaur breath."

"Dragon breath, Bones."

She looked confused. "Dragons are mythical beasts. Dinosaur breath makes more sense." Her eyes were teasing.

"I guess it does." He reached for the muffin. "Mmm. Good."

"Tempe helped me make them." Anne came in. She wore a worn pink bathrobe that tied below her ample breasts. She planted a solid kiss on Booth's forehead. "Imagine my surprise when I woke up this morning and a strange woman was in my kitchen."

Booth chuckled. "Sorry, mom."

"Eh. No matter. I just figured that you were picking up cute nurses."

"Mom. You have no idea how disturbing that whole scenario sounds."

"What? Nothing's disturbing about it. You're a handsome, successful man. All you need is love, right?"

"Mom, I'm not about to go picking up oncologists in the hospital where my dad--" His eyes met his mother's. "Never mind. These are good, Bones."

She smiled, "Thank you." Brennan's eyes momentarily traced her partner's muscular chest. They bounced back to his face. What? She's not dead.

Anne stood and smoothed her robe. "I need to go over that paperwork with you sometime today. I just-- would like to get it out of the way."

"We can do it now, Mom."

She looked between Brennan and her son. "I'm not so sure Tempe would feel too comfortable..."

"Mom, if you're alright with it, I'm sure Bones is. I tell her everything anyway."

"And visa versa," Brennan added.

Anne still looked uncomfortable.

"You know what, Booth? I think I'll just jump in the shower while I still have a chance. " She stood and left mother and son alone.

Anne laid her hand on Booth's knee. "I don't mind that you tell Tempe everything. I... I know it doesn't make any sense, but I feel more comfortable doing this alone."

"It's OK, Mom." He wrapped his arm around his mom and pulled her into a side-hug.

"Wooh! Tempe wasn't kidding, sweetheart. You smell like morning butt."

Booth laughed as he watched Anne cross the room. She came back holding a folder with her insurance carrier's name scrolled across. Her fingers shook ever so slightly as she took the paperwork from the folder. She laughed sardonically. "I hate doing this."

"Then don't."

Her hazel eyes lifted to his. "But it's something I need to do." She paused as she laid everything out on the coffee table. "My cardiologist--" She ran a finger under her nose and breathed deeply in and out. "My heart isn't healthy, Seeley. Not much of a surprise, I guess."

"Mom--" It was a surprise. Booth had had no idea that anything was at issue with his mom's health. Yes, she was overweight. But she always had been, as far back as he remembered. And, as far as he knew, she hadn't taken so much as a Bayer, let alone heart medication.

"I'm not lying or exaggerating, hun. Last year I was hospitalized."

"What?"

"I thought I was having a bad case of angina, so I saw my doctor. I had a heart attack. Mild. It was mild."

"What? Why didn't you say anything?"

"You were working--"

"I would've dropped everything, you know that."

"In London."

Booth sighed and ran a hand over his 5 o'clock shadow. "I would've come home, Mom."

Several seconds passed. Booth heard the water from the shower turn off.

"What do you want, Mom?"

"Did you know that half of all people die when they have a heart attack?"

"Mom--"

"And 85 percent of people who die from coronary heart disease are 65 or older." Her eyes followed a butterfly that fluttered on her geraniums outside the window. "I won't be one of those women who live to be a hundred. I really don't want to be, either. I don't want to be senile when I die." She sighed and looked back at her son. "I'd like to be able to say good-bye."

Their backs were to her, but Booth could feel Brennan's presence. She stood in the hallway, holding a towel to her hair.

"OK, Mom. What can I do?"

"Just make sure that my last wishes are respected."

"OK."

"I'll make a photocopy of this at the hospital. You just need to sign here and I'll need an alternate way that the hospital can contact you."

Booth sighed and took the pen from his mom's withered hand. He quickly signed the paperwork like his hand was on fire, like he was somehow signing away his mother's life. No life support. No oxygen. Just food and water.

Nan reached up and rubbed her son's back, her hand slipped around his neck and she pulled him close, kissing his cheek. "You don't have to do this."

"I'm the only one who can really do this. Knowing Jared, he'd probably keep you alive to reach that hundred-year mark." He chuckled. "Maybe you should have Jared do this after all."

"I don't think so." She laughed.

Brennan smiled from the hallway. It was heart-warming to see Booth and his mother together. She realized how much she had missed not having a mother of her own. But at the same time, it was painful knowing that Booth would soon be facing yet another death in his life. And he wasn't fifteen. He'd had more than thirty years to get to know his mother inside and out. In one way, that was good. In another, it sounded so much worse than losing her as a teenager. Losing someone who you had gotten to know as an adult just sounded so much worse for some reason.

She slipped behind the bedroom door to finish drying her hair.

I don't know yet what Anne did, but she sure did something to raise that boy right. He was headed for hell in a handbasket at an early age, but look how fine he turned out! And Tempe's dealing with some of her own stuff too. Thanks, Mama.

I really love that story....of course I love most of your stories so it wasn't a surprise for me .....
It's good that Bones decided to come and be there for Booth.....
And she seems to get along well with his mom....they even made muffins together.....
Can't wait for more!

I am totally loving this. Its just so freakin brillaint x x

Thanks!!!

Part V

"You can go in now," a shorter Latina nurse said to the couple who stood just out side of room 206.

"Thanks." Booth entered the hospital room with Brennan on his heels.

Mike was laying in bed. The nasal cannula hooked around his ears, his skin was blotchy with a purple/gray mottled tone. "Hey, boy," he said, breathing through his mouth as though he couldn't get enough air. "Who's the pretty girl?"

Booth smiled and put his hand behind Brennan's shoulder blades. "This is--" Quick decision. "Tempe, Dad." It sounded strange on his tongue, but it was the name she'd had his mother use.

Brennan held her hand out, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Booth." His grip was weak.

He breathed heavily, "Tempe. That's a strange name."

"It's short for Temperance."

"What kind of cock-and-bull name is that? Your parents name you after a dog?"

"Dad--"

Brennan's cheeks glowed for a split second, then the color dissipated. "It's OK, Booth." Then she addressed Mr. Booth, "What kind of name is Mike? Your parents obviously had the imagination of a six year old. Let's just hope you didn't inherit either of their IQs."

He wheezed a laugh, "I like her."

Booth smiled uncomfortably, "How've you been?"

"Dying. And you?" His voice was heavy and raspy.

"Nothing's changed in the last twelve hours, Dad."

"Except this beautiful young thing." He eyed Brennan like he hadn't just met her. "She your girlfriend?"

"This is my partner, Dad. You guys just met."

"Whatever you kids call it these days." He stopped to catch his breath. "F-ck!" The exclamation came out of nowhere.

"What's wrong?"

"Hurts like a sonovabitch."

He reached for the call button and soon after a nurse came in. Her name tag read, Jill H. RNA. "How you doin', Mike? Need me to up your dose?"

"Yeah," he blurted.

Brennan walked to the little couch in the room and took a seat.

Once the pain had subsided, Jill disappeared and the three of them were left alone once again. They sat in silence for little more than a minute before Mike turned to his son. "How long you two kids been together?" He reached up and adjusted the cannula.

"A couple of years, Dad." Booth smiled and patted his dad's hand.

"Just a... bit of advice from your old man, son." Booth suppressed an eye-roll. Relationship advice from the man who drank and beat his wife. "Be each other's best friend." He took in several deep breaths. "And I know I'm not the one who... who should tell you about this stuff... but I think... that's what I did wrong with Nan." He took more deep breaths and squeezed Booth's hand. "I never let her in."

"I've... got to go to the bathroom, Dad." Booth pushed back the stool he was sitting on. It rolled across the room.

"I think that''s one right there," Mike gestured to a door.

"Not that one." He left the room quickly.

Brennan watched the whole thing with curiosity, then silently followed. In the hallway, she found Booth sitting on a folding chair. She walked over to him. He scooted over for her and together they sat on that one chair for several minutes. Nurses, doctors, and patients passed by silently. Brennan just watched the hallway activity without saying a word. Her partner sat beside her, his head in his hands.

"My dad hit my mom," Booth muttered resignedly into his hands. "He was actually trying to sell me advice. Him." He laughed humourlessly. "Of all of the people in the world. And you know what?"

Brennan leaned forward on her elbows to meet Booth's face. "What?"

"He was right, Bones." He nodded and shook his head slightly. " He was right."

"Is that bad?"

He shook his head again, his eyes distant. "All my life, I've tried to do whatever was opposite of what he said." He turned his face toward Brennan's. "I figured I was safe, you know. Nine times out of ten, if I did the opposite of whatever he said, I was in the right."

Brennan was silent. She knew that it was best just to let him talk it out.

"And I guess it's--" He looked at her again and smiled. "Illogical, but I don't want to do what he said, but I know he's right."

"About being friends with your wife?"

"Yeah." His eyes grew distant. "There wasn't a single day they didn't argue."

"We argue. And we're friends."

"It's different, Bones."

"How?" She was honestly curious.

Booth smiled warmly at Brennan, "We banter. We talk. We clash. We bounce ideas off one another. But we don't hate each other."

"Your parents hated each other?"

"I didn't see any love."

Brennan leaned her cheek on her hand. "They didn't love each other?"

"Mom loved Dad, but he never returned it. That's no relationship, Bones. That's one-sided. The best gift you can give your kids, Bones, is to love your spouse. Period. Everything else grows from there."

"What about Rebecca? You're not her spouse."

"Bones, I love Rebecca. I respect her."

"You love her?"

He sat back and rubbed his hands on his jeans. "Yeah, but I don't like her all of the time." He crossed his arms over his chest. "We make better friends than enemies."

"You mean lovers?" Her eyebrow tipped in the air.

"Nope, Bones. I said enemies, and I meant it. Whenever we were together, we fought. Parker didn't need for that to be his memory of us together. He deserves a better childhood than that."

Brennan measured that for a little while. "I can see that."

Booth stood. "Come on, Bones. I wanna show you something."

She stood, taking the offered hand and they walked out of the hospital.

Before the doors shut, Brennan could be heard asking, "Do you like me?"

Booth laughed, "Of course I like you, Bones!"

"No. I mean, do you like me as a person? As a friend."

"Bones, like is an understatement. I love who you are. Take anything away, and you're not you." He smiled at her. "C'mon, I know a shortcut."

Part VI

Brennan followed behind Booth as he cleared away overgrown shrubbery.

"I'm being eaten alive."

"Huh?" Booth yelled back.

"The mosquitoes are attacking me. How much farther?"

"Just a few more feet. Trust me that it's worth the wait." He pushed back more branches, holding back some so Brennan could walk through.

"Korsakoff's."

"Krakatoa-what?"

"Your father. He either has Korsakoff's syndrome or Wernicke's disease."

They reached a sharp embankment. Booth side stepped down and held out his hand for Brennan to take. After she reached the shoreline, they walked side by side along the river. "What makes you think he has Wernicke's or Korsakoff's?"

Brennan smiled at him, "Besides the fact that you didn't mispronounce them purposefully?" Booth looked over at her and grinned. "He has the classic signs and symptomotology. Alcoholism followed by a memory disorder. He asked who I was twice in a minute."

He pushed his hands into his pockets, "You know what? You're not so bad with the living after all, Bones." They reached a spot that looked somewhat familiar to Booth. He began to climb through the weeds, leaving Brennan behind.

"Where are you going?" She bent down and folded up her blue jeans into capris and took off her boots, ready to take off after him.

"Just stay there!"

She sighed and stood, hands on hips waiting for something to happen.

A second later, Booth, swung through the dry and overgrown weeds wearing nothing but a pair of Mickey Mouse boxers and a huge boyish grin. The rope swing swung over the river and back again, then back over the river. "Wooooooh! Hooooo!" He let go of his grip and dropped into the water with a large sploosh!

Brennan froze when, after about a minute, Booth didn't surface. She took two steps toward the water, fully prepared to dive in, clothing and all. Then he came back up, shaking the water out of his hair.

"Come on in, Bones! There's plenty of water to go around!"

"If you think I'm going to strip to my bra and underwear and dive into that river, you're wrong, Booth!"

Booth laughed and came toward the shore. The weight of the water tugged at his boxers. He pulled them back up before they reached the point of no return. "C'mon, Bones. You'll love this."

"I'm not going."

"Are you shy?"

"I've lectured thousands of students at a time. I'm not shy, Booth."

"Then prove it."

She sighed and eyed the rope which had swung back to shore. "My underwear isn't exactly... appropriate swim attire."

"Bones, Bones, Bones..." He shook his head. "I promise I won't look."

"Of course you'll look. You're a man. I'm a woman."

"Yeah, I'll probably look." He grinned and grabbed the rope, then began to make it back up the hillock he had just swung from. "You're not afraid, are you?"

"What if... What if a troupe of boy scouts comes through the woods? That could destroy their innocence in one fail swoop." She put her hands back on her hips.

"Very few boys are innocent, Bones."

"That must make it difficult, having that kind of insight with Parker." A teasing grin.

"Now, why'd you have to go and say that?" He shook his head and grinned, then began to walk back up the hill. "Now hurry and take off your clothes. And I mean that in the most respectable way possible."

He disappeared, leaving Brennan to ponder what had just transpired.

She sighed, looked around nervously, then removed her shirt. She left it on a sun-warmed rock beside her boots. The jeans came off reluctantly. She weighed several scenarios before finally discarding the jeans beside the top. Good thing she'd been eating right and working out.

She walked up the steep embankment and began to push through the weeds and shrubbery. Booth was waiting. His classic cocky grin twisted his lips upward. "Took you long enough."

He pulled the rope closer to her. She took it in her hands anxiously, but didn't budge.

"You gotta stand on the rock, Bones." He nodded at the boulder that was at the base of a large oak.

"OK." She breathed in and out slowly before stepping onto the boulder. Booth helped her up, keeping his hands North of the Border. He showed her how to wrap her toes around the rope. "Now you just have to actually do it, Bones."

"I can't," she breathed. She regretted the words almost immediately. She wasn't one to say she couldn't do something. "It's ridiculous, I know."

"You don't like heights?"

"No. It's not that." She sighed and rolled her eyes. "This is going to sound stupid. I hate... I hate swimming in bodies of water where you can't see the bottom. It freaks me out."

"There's nothing at the bottom of this river, Bones. Jared and I have been swimming here since we were kids--"

"I know. I know there's nothing at the bottom. There might be trout or crayfish or something like that-- It's ridiculous."

"Bones. Do you want me to go first?"

"No. I can do this. I just need to clear my head." She closed her eyes and rationalized for a few seconds. Her eyes opened once again. "OK. I'm going to do this." Her fingers tightened around the rope. Then they relaxed. "Are you sure there's no rebar or fallen limbs?"

"Nothing like that, Bones." Booth looked up at her. He may or may not have let his eyes wander just a little bit. What? He's not dead.

She got off from the rock. "You go first. I'll aim for the spot that you fall in."

Booth shrugged and they exchanged places, with Bones on the ground and Booth standing on the rock. "When I was nine, Jared climbed this tree and tried to jump from the bough to the water. He missed."

"That's not very comforting, Booth."

"He was all right. Then the next day, I did the exact same thing."

"Why?" Brennan grinned at the thought.

"I had to show him how it was done right."

"Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Did you do it right?"

"Nope. I missed and broke my arm."

"Why are you telling me this, Booth?"

"But neither of us, Bones, were ever hurt swinging from the rope. See where I'm going with this?"

"It's convoluted, but I think I know where you're going."

Booth chuckled, "OK. One... Two... Three!" He pulled his feet up, his arms and chest flexed, the limb dipped under his weight, then Booth hit the water.

The rope came back just far enough for Brennan to grasp it at the top of the slope. She walked it back and mounted the boulder.

"OK..." She closed her eyes. No, that was way more unsafe than before. They reopened. "One... Two... Three!" Some things are best done when you don't think twice. She jumped. Arms flexed. She and the rope swung over the water, then back over the land. "I can't!"

"You can!"

She let her toes touch the top of the hill, then she walked the rope back a little farther and jumped again. This time she released when she swung out over the water. The cool clear liquid enveloped her. And nothing was under her feet except sand.

Booth swam up to her once her head reappeared from the water.

"What'd you think?" Booth asked.

"It was exhilarating!" She tipped her head back to smooth her hair back with the water.

"Wanna do it again?"

"Yes!"

"That's my girl!"

They swam up to the shore and repeated the process several more times. After the final swing, they both were swimming in the river, closer to shore.

"How'd you find this place?"

Booth swam up to her. "This was our escape."

She studied his face for a second. "Escape?"

"Yeah. Jared's and mine. Probably more mine than Jared's."

They walked onto shore and sat where the water and sand met and sat with their toes in the water. "What did you mean by escape?" From what Cam and Sweets had told her, she suspected the answer, but something inside of her made her want to hear the words from his own mouth. She wrapped her hands around her knees, grabbing her wrist with her thumb and forefinger. When Booth didn't answer, she prompted him. "Cam and Sweets said that your father was physically abusive. They weren't just referring to your mom, were they?"

Booth shook his head and looked over at her. "You're getting a sunburn, Bones." He stood and brought her back her shirt.

She stood up. "Now don't make fun of me." She pressed her hands to her breasts and water escaped from the padding and streamed down her stomach.

He couldn't help but to laugh. "Bones, you don't need it. You have a great body."

Now, that was a confusing comment. "Thanks," she murmured.

They stood in awkward silence for a moment.

Booth walked back through the woods and retrieved his clothing. He came back to a fully dressed Brennan.

"You never answered my question."

Booth nodded and put his shirt on. While he worked on his jeans and shoes, he spoke, "Dad didn't always hit Mom. He didn't hit just Mom, either."

"He hit you?"

"More like beat me." Booth sat down and put his bare feet in the water. He watched the light flicker off the surface in silence. After a second, Brennan sat beside him. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair. It had begun to dry in the warm sun, revealing the fact that she straightened it on a regular work day. "Your hair's curly, Bones." He smiled. "I like it."

"Well, wavy." She stuck her toes in the water beside Booth's. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

He laughed lightly, "If there's anyone in the world I should tell, Bones, it's you."

She looked a question at him.

"Have I ever told you that you're my best friend?"

"No."

"Well, you are, Bones." His eyes crinkled, then relaxed. He looked over the water. "He used to go after Jared first." He spoke slowly, pausing between sentences as memories rushed back to him. "He was so little then. Four years younger than me. I had to protect him. So I tried to make sure I was the target. Not him. I swore that if I ever got big enough, I'd strangle my father with my bare hands." He looked back over at her. "Now I'm bigger. And he's weaker. And the only thing I feel for the man is... pity. And love. But mostly pity."

"You love your father?"

"It doesn't make much sense, does it, Bones? But then again, you can relate. Someone who hurts you, abandons you, but you can't help but to love him despite all of his faults." He laughed a humorless laugh. "It's f-cking screwed up." He shook his head slowly, then looked back at Brennan. "You have a good dad, Bones. In spite of it all, there was never any doubt that he loved you back."

Brennan scoffed. "That's doubtful."

"No, Bones. When you told Max that you loved him. He always told you 'I love you' back." He paused. "When I was twelve, I told my Dad that I loved him."

"And...?"

"And the next day I had to tell my teacher that I fell into the door." He smiled. "Like I said, Bones. I pity him. Someone who has lived his entire life like that. I would always tell Parker that I love him."

"You're a good father, Booth."

With a teasing smile, he replied, "You've said that before."

"Well, I mean it."

They shared a long look. One of those patented, extended-warranty smiles. Then Booth stood, holding out his hand for her. "We should probably get back."

She hesitated. "Only if you promise we do this again."

He weighed it with false duality. Then he smiled. "Deal."

She put her hand in his.

Welcome to the ABY, xBeMinex!!!

Part VII

Later that evening, Booth was napping on the couch in his father's hospital room. His feet were propped on a little coffee table. Brennan's legs were over his lap, her head resting on the arm of the sofa. Mike was asleep, fully sedated with pain meds.

She felt some movement, but kept her eyes closed.

A second later, she heard two men talking just outside of the door in serious tones. She shifted to face the door, realizing that Booth had disappeared. She stood and crossed the room to the door, leaving it just cracked enough to look into the hospital's hallway.

Booth and Jared stood toe-to-toe. Jared had obviously been drinking and his arm was wrapped around a scantily dressed date. Jared was the least dressed up Brennan had ever seen. His hair was long and shaggy. He wore jeans and a tee-shirt.

"Nice to see you've finally decided to show up," Booth said to his brother.

"Hey, at least I showed up. Give me some credit, OK?"

"Where were you?"

"I was working, Seeley. Imagine that?" Sarcastic.

Booth shook his head, "It took you more than a week to finally show up at your own father's hospital room?"

"Hey, don't tell me what you think I've done wrong, Seeley. I'm a grown man now."

Booth puffed air through his lips in a way that conveyed his disbelief.

"What the hells' that supposed to mean?"

Jared's date began to look uncomfortable, "I'm just gonna go to the little girl's room." She jogged down the hall in her stiletto heels.

"Damn. She looks as good going as she does coming, huh?" Jared grinned, then looked back at his older brother. The look on Booth's face made his grin disappear. "What?"

"Your father's dying and you not only take your time showing up, but you pick up a prostitute on your way?"

"Hey, hey, hey! Tanya's not a hooker. She's a working professional."

"A working professional stripper."

"Just mind your own damned business, Seeley. We've both got our own priorities. I've got Tanya and you've got that partner of yours."

Booth gritted his teeth. "You leave Bones out of this."

"Leave Tanya out of this."

"You're the one who brought her into this. Instead of coming to Philly, you took her to a motel or the back seat of a van or whatever you did."

"You're crossing a line, brother. A fine line."

"Every night for almost two weeks I've been sitting with Dad, Jared. The least you could've done is taken time out of your busy schedule and come sit with Dad. Give Mom a break. Give me a break."

"You've always been the archangel, haven't you? The shining star." Jared's voice was more than just sarcastic. "Seeley the good son."

"No. You've got that wrong."

"Have I? I lost my f-cking job, Seeley. Now I nail two-by-fours together for a living. Do you know what Dad said when I told him?" He paused for dramatic effect. "He said, 'Figures.' Like he's been waiting his whole life just to see me screw up. I guess he got his dying wish."

Booth didn't answer for a few seconds. His eyes followed Tanya as she came back down the hall and wrapped her arm around Jared's waist. Jared wrapped his arm around her neck and planted a kiss on her lips. "It's not about us any more, Jared."

"Then who's it about?"

"Right now? Mom." Booth put his hands on his hips and shook his head. His eyes settled on Brennan for a moment, then he looked back at Jared quickly before he noticed. "You can't live your life like this, Jared. Selfishly. Mom's breaking apart. I can't be the only damned pillar. I need my brother."

Jared just looked at him. Finally he sighed. "Fine. Where's Mom?"

"Home."

"Think she's up?"

"Probably not."

"Do you think she'd mind if we bunk up at her place?"

Booth shrugged and smiled. "The more the merrier."

He put his arm around Jared and they walked toward the door. Brennan back-stepped away, leaving room for the door to swing.

Jared's gaze settled first on his father. He still slumbered, his purple lip hung from his face, bearing yellowed teeth. Then he saw Brennan. "I didn't know you were here." And for a moment, he felt foolish and wondered if she had heard his comments.

"Booth needed a friend, considering that he was alone with your parents for so long."

"Bones--"

"It's OK, Seeley. Dish it out however you want, Tempe. I can take it."

"OK." Brennan shrugged. "I think you're an inconsiderate jerk."

"Ah. Now I'm a loser and a jerk."

Booth was the confused one now. "She never called you a loser."

"Oh, I did," Brennan said confidently. "The last time I spoke to your brother, I called him a loser and pushed him off a bar stool."

"Oh."

"I should've broken his nose, but there were too many witnesses." Brennan crossed her arms over her chest and stared Jared down coldly. "And unlike a certain somebody, I think about the consequences of my actions before I actually act."

"You're a piece of work, Tempe," Jared muttered.

"Hey, be respectful to my partner," Booth interjected angrily.

"Fine. I'm not here to fight. I'm here to talk to Dad."

"Well, he's asleep, but if you want, you can take call dibs on tomorrow. Maybe Bones and I can grab some lunch."

"Fine." Jared turned around, kicking the door as he exited.

"See ya later," Tanya said apologetically, then she trotted out after Jared, her brown hair bouncing as she went.

Booth turned toward Brennan when they were out of sight. "I don't know about you, but they're sleeping on the pull-out. It feels like concrete."

Silence grew between them before Brennan decided to ask a question that had been pressing her. "Does Parker know?"

"About Dad?" He answered the question quietly. "No."

"Why not?"

"He doesn't know my Dad very well. I never wanted him to."

"Because of what he did?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"I don't know, Bones. I guess I never... I didn't want to be responsible for-- You know, if..."

"If he ever abused Parker, you'd feel responsible. Even though he's been bedridden for the last several months."

"I know what you're going to say. It's not rational, right?"

"Sometimes you can't be rational when it comes to the safety of your children."

Booth smiled at her. She was leaning against the door frame with her toes against the opposite side. He had his head against that door frame with his toes against the one her head was resting against. "That was beautiful, Bones."

"You're either being ironic or sarcastic. I can't tell which." She cleared her throat. "But I was being anthropological."

"How's that, Bones?" He grinned. "Wait, you're going to name off some African tribe that sacrifices to their gods or something like that, right?"

"South American."

He laughed. "Come on. Maybe if we beat Jared, we can make sure we get the bedroom."

She shot him a look.

"I'll take the floor, don't worry."

that was sooo cute
I love that they have gone to do something fun during all of this....and Booth really opend up to her.....
I absolutely loved this paragraph:

"Bones, Bones, Bones..." He shook his head. "I promise I won't look."
"Of course you'll look. You're a man. I'm a woman."
"Yeah, I'll probably look."

but of course we all want him to look....and maybe even touch....

ForensicMama wrote:"I'll take the floor, don't worry."

What?
No!
They have to share the bed!
Please make them share!

Excellent--I liked Jared's momentary thought about whether she'd heard and then when he encouraged her to berate him. I think Jared underneath it all knows what he is. I think he knows Booth is the better man, but he just can't help himself. Booth has never made him "man up" and Booth is the only father he knows. So he takes the coddling and blames his father (or Booth) for his choices. Can't wait to see the direction you take this.

Thanks everyone!

Part VIII

Jared was five when it happened. Booth was about to turn ten. It was a memory that had become turned over and forgotten so many times that it only came back to him when he was especially stressed out or anxious.

Anne had become pregnant with her third son soon after Jared's fourth birthday. Frightened and happy were the operative words. It described every feeling that churned inside of her. Caught in a marriage that was loveless and violent, bringing a third child into the household was the last thing she wanted. But she never wanted this to happen to her son.

He remembered walking through the hallway of the hospital. His grandmother made him hold Jared's hand, which was really embarrassing for an almost-ten-year-old. He could still practically smell the polyester. Even in his dreams. It was the spring of 1979 and Kevin was less than a day old.

Outside of his mother's hospital room, his grandmother stooped and straightened each of the boys' over-sized 70s style collars and licked down one of Jared's cowlicks. Seeley laughed. But his laughter was cut off by his grandmother licking her hand and slicking it across Seeley's head, which caused Jared to start giggling.

"Quiet now. Your mama's still pretty tired." She stood and knocked on the door. A second later, the door was opened by Mike. A much younger, livelier version of the 2009 version of real life.

"Come on in, boys." He ushered them in. His mother was breastfeeding a tiny little infant.

She looked up and smiled, tucking back a lock of red hair. She was much thinner that year. Her pregnancy with Kevin was not what one would consider routine. Every day was a struggle to keep down enough fluids and food to keep her growing infant alive and thriving. Most of the pregnancy was a blur. Neither Jared nor Seeley had seen much of their mother. She spent the last four months of her pregnancy at the local women's hospital on IV fluids.

"Woah. He's so little!" Jared marveled. He climbed up onto the bed to get a closer look.

Mike grabbed his arm and snatched him down roughly. "Hey, what'd I tell you? Your Mom doesn't need you crawling all over her."

Both the sharp tone of his voice and the brusqueness in which he snatched Jared down caused the boy to coddle his arm and cry in the corner of the room.

Seeley, learning from his brother's mistakes, was much more careful. He stood on his toes and looked on from a distance, only really seeing the tip of Kevin's pink nose and two chubby pink cheeks.

"What do you think, baby?" Anne smiled at her oldest son.

His eyes were wide. "He's cute."

"He looks like you when you were first born."

Mike looked over Nan's shoulder. "I don't know. He's a little cuter than the other boys." Mike Booth wasn't one for holding those kinds of opinions to himself. Regardless of whether or not they would cause emotional harm.

Seeley was used to those kinds of comments. They didn't phase him. He was used to people saying that Jared was adorable. He was cute. So well behaved compared to his older brother. Nothing new under the sun. "Can I hold him, Mom?"

"No," Mike answered. "You're too little, son." He ruffled Seeley's hair. And for a moment, everything was perfect. They were a normal, everyday, American family of five.

Two weeks later,Seeley was in the kitchen doing his homework. Nan was working on dinner with Kevin on her hip. The Frigidaire was Bud-free.

Mike came through the door at ten minutes to five. He crossed the room to the refrigerator. As usual, Seeley's stomach twisted in his gut. So did Anne's.

"Where the hell's my beer, Nan?"

"I was just about to go out."

"F-ck me. You always wait until the last damned minute. You're so f-cking selfish, Nan."

Postpartum depression and hormones are bad enough without a Michael Booth in your life. She'd gone through this scenario about a hundred times before. Mike usually went through a pack of Bud a day, so it was a daily purchase. And with a fresh vertical C-Section wound and three young boys, it seemed to be a scenario that repeated itself more than once a week.

She began to cry.

Mike slammed the door and took Kevin from Anne's arms. "You've got all damned day to do one simple thing." But that wasn't the only thing he required of her. A spotless house. No dishes. No laundry. Hot meals served at a certain time each day. Sexual intercourse within days of childbirth, despite the doctor's suggestions and Anne's pain. "One f-cking simple thing. Stop your damned crying, Nan!" Kevin began to cry at his father's harsh voice.

Anne crossed the room silently, grabbing her jacket and purse on her way out.

"She pisses me off, Seeley. Do yourself a favor and don't marry a lazy woman. She's always feeding me bullshit by the heaping tablespoon. She's about as useful as a a one-legged man in a kicking contest. F-cking bitch."

The baby continued to cry.

"F-cking shut the hell up! F-ck!"

Kevin cried louder.

Seeley stood up and walked toward his father. "Can I take him?"

"No, you can't take him," he replied in a mocking tone. "What are you? Growing f-cking ovaries, Seeley? Do I have to go buy you a bra now for your tits?"

"Dad, I can do it. He stops crying when I hold him."

"Get the f-ck outta my face. Go to your room. Now!"

That's where the memory ended. And he was glad. Because he knew what came next. Ten minutes later, Anne came through the door and her world had been turned upside down. To anybody that asked, Kevin Booth died of SIDS. Mike told the nurse that Kevin went to sleep in his crib and never woke up. That was a lie and everybody knew it. Except the nurse. A bright-eyed, straight-out-of-college young woman who had done her research. She heard about this new thing. SIDS. And Kevin Booth fit the bill.

Anne knew better.

Seeley knew better. He knew that his Dad did something to hurt his baby brother. But accusing him of such a thing would probably tear his family apart. And if it didn't, then that would make him the victim of another attack by his father.

That spring day in 1979 became another part of the plague of silence. Don't talk about Dad hitting Mommy. Don't tell anybody where your bruises really came from. And never mention Kevin's name again.

"Wakey, wakey! Eggs and bakey!!!" Jared's voice. Lots of jostling. Booth's face hit the mattress several times. Brennan's toes kept bumping against his nose.

Both she and Booth turned onto their backs and looked up to see Jared in his pajama bottoms jumping on the bed. He stopped when he realized he'd woken up the partners.

Jared grinned. "Welcome to the land of the living, love birds!"

It was obvious that Brennan and Booth weren't in bed romantically. Heads were in opposite directions and both were wearing pajamas. But Jared thought it was a hoot.

Brennan grabbed a pillow and threw it at Jared. "Go away!"

"Hey, that's not the way you talk to your little brother, Tempe."

This time it was Booth's time to talk. "You're playing with fire, Jared. Bones knows martial arts."

"Three kinds," Brennan clarified.

Jared raised his arms in feigned surrender. "I know when I'm beat. Wouldn't want Tempe to push me off the bed or anything."

Booth took the opportunity, pushing his brother's leg. Jared stumbled off the bed, falling into the wall and laughing hysterically.

When Jared had closed the door, Brennan got up and put her head next to Booth's. "How'd you sleep?"

"Whatever's the opposite of 'a log'."

Brennan's brows squished together. She didn't understand. Then the brows raised. "Oh. You slept poorly. Was it because of me? Do I kick?"

Booth rubbed his eyes. "No, Bones. Just... bad dreams."

"What about?"

"About my brother."

"Jared?"

Booth smiled and looked at her. Sleep-rumpled. Her hair was still wavy, but out of place. She looked cute. "Who else would I be talking about?"

"I don't know." She'd meant for it to be rhetorical, to get him to talk more.

"Kevin."

"Kevin?"

"My Mom gave birth to him when I was ten." He got up, out of bed and walked to his suitcase. Brennan watched him look for an outfit to wear. He smiled and looked over at Bones. "I'm only telling you this because I haven't slept for two weeks. You know, purge the demons." She didn't reply. He breathed in deeply. "He died when he was two weeks old. He looked just like me."

"I'm so sorry. How'd he die?"

"Shaken Baby. Calling it a syndrome is a joke."

Brennan sat up. "Who-- Who...?"

"My Dad wasn't a good man, Bones." He smiled. "If I were you, I'd get in a shower before Jared does. He tends to stay in there 'til the water runs cold." He left the bedroom, leaving Brennan alone. Stunned. Then he popped his head back in and grinned. "By the way, you look cute, Bones."

She smiled, put her feet to the carpet, and gathered her clothing.

Wow--heartbreaking. I feel bad for Booth--he's telling Brennen things but being cavalier, she can't comfort that. Usually she can't interpret that as needing to be comforted. But how strong is he? He shocks her, then teases her to make her do as told her to. I fear a Booth meltdown.