Don't Ever Die - BB Oneshot - Rated T :)

by BJ111 Sun May 03, 2009 3:34 am

Summary: Post-ep oneshot for Double Death of the Dearly Departed, with a little WitW/PitH mixed into it. Brennan's thoughts on the last scene.

A/N: This just popped into my head one night and wouldn’t let me go I hope you like it!

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“I believe that if I pretended you were still here I’d feel better for a moment.”

That night, as she was lying in bed, she didn’t believe it anymore. Well, maybe it was true that she might feel better for a moment, but she didn’t think it would be worth the pain of the inevitable realization that he was really gone. She remembered the last time she’d thought he was dead all too clearly. She remembered the feeling of his blood seeping through her hands while she was frantically trying to keep Booth alive, she remembered the ages it took for the ambulance to get there, she remembered the small waiting room in the hospital where all she could do was pace back and forth all the time, and she remembered the doctor coming in and for the first time in her life knowing what the expression on someone’s face meant, though desperately hoping she was wrong. She could still hear the doctor’s voice in her head:

We did everything we could.

The rest was a blur. She couldn’t recall how she got home from the hospital, and she could only remember flashes of images from the rest of the night: lying curled up on her couch, crying endlessly and eventually falling asleep.

She remembered how she had woken up the next morning, wondering why she was on her couch. She had confusedly checked her cell phone for messages, and the truth had hit her as she had looked at the background picture of her and Booth. The tears had started flowing again and she hadn’t gone to work that day, not even bothering to call in sick. After wasting what had seemed like hundreds of tissues, she’d dragged herself to her bed and had drifted off again. The next time she’d woken up it had been 3 A.M., the pillow still wet from the tears that apparently hadn’t stopped coming while she’d been sleeping. She had spent hours composing herself enough to go to work the next day, making a promise to herself that she wouldn’t show any emotions about Booth ever again.

She had barely gotten through the day.

As much as she had tried to ignore them, she hadn’t been able to be completely unaware of all the pitying glances that had been thrown her way. It had taken her all her strength to not break down right there in the middle of the lab.

That night she’d hardly shut the door behind her when she had broken down in tears again. The thought of never talking to Booth again was already incredibly hard; it being the truth was just too much. It had been like that for two more weeks. She would try to look as normal as possible during the day, working in the lab the whole day, as she had done for years before Booth had come along. At night, she would cry herself to sleep, if she slept at all.

All of a sudden it had been the day of his funeral. She truly hadn’t intended to come, not sure if she’d be able to control herself while standing so close to his dead body. And then he was just there again, trying to overpower some kind of criminal. All kind of emotions had rushed through her; confusedness, relief, happiness. Anger.

Suddenly she’d found herself rushing towards the casket and grabbing the first object she could get a hold on and hitting the person Booth was trying to fight off. But striking the criminal hadn’t been enough, she had still felt the urge to hit the cause of the pain she had been in for two whole weeks. The next thing she knew, Booth was lying on the ground and, though she would never admit it, her hand had hurt like hell.

She wouldn’t be able to go through that again. She knew that the next time she’d think he was dead, he would really be so. There was no way he would pretend to be dead again without calling her personally. And there was no way she would be able to go on with her life. She suddenly became aware of the single tear that had worked its way down her cheek. In an impulse, she picked up her phone and dialed Booth’s number. He picked up on the second ring, though it was long past midnight.

“Bones? Why are you calling me?”

At the sound of his voice, she couldn’t hold herself together anymore and she started sobbing.

“Don’t ever die.”