Darkness And Light - Drabble

Title: Darkness And Light
Author: saraluvzbonz
Rated: T
Genre: General
Summary: Brennan is having a bad day and Angela cheers her up

AN: Here's a drabble that wouldn't let me go when I was trying to take a nap. I had to write it down before I could rest. Hope you enjoy it. As always, thanks to my fabulous beta, redrider6612. And thanks to everyone who reads and (hopefully) enjoys it. I've written another oneshot for Through A Glass Darkly. Hopefully it will be posted sometime in the next day or two.

Angela Montenegro followed Temperance Brennan into her office, wondering exactly what was going on with her. She was normally unflappable and as steady as they come, able to compartmentalize so effectively that only those who knew her best could tell when something was wrong.

Today though, everybody knew she was upset. She'd snapped at Wendell twice, glared at Hodgins, told Cam off, and made three of the lab techs want to cry.

Angela pulled the door closed behind her.

"Sweetie, you wanna tell me what's up?"

Brennan glared from her spot behind the computer.

"I worry about you. You act all tough, and you are tough. Like a diamond. But even diamonds shatter when they're subjected to certain kinds of pressure."

"Booth and I are going out for drinks later."

"You'll talk to him about it and not me?" Angela couldn't keep the hurt from her tone.

"Ange, he understands the darkness in me in a way you never will. He… we… we've been places, done things, and had things done to us that you've never experienced; things I wouldn't want you to experience. But that doesn't mean I don't need you. You're the light and color in my life. You help me have hope and see the good things, the art, in life. You show me hope."

"And he teaches you faith. I get it, Sweetie. But please stop taking whatever-it-is out on everybody else."

"I'm planning to spend the rest of the afternoon here."

"Good. This weekend we're going out and I'm going to show you some of that color and light."

She opened her mouth, but Angela cut her off. "No weaseling out. It's been forever since we've had a girl's day."

"Okay, Ange." Brennan smiled.

"I'll go work on that facial reconstruction you're waiting for." As Angela walked back to her office, she smiled. She might not know what exactly was going on, but she could almost always cheer her friend up.

It's gonna be a Girls' Night Out!! Yay! Good for them!

And a new chapter in Through a Glass Darkly! I'm waiting!!

Thanks for the review. I miss my Girl's Nights Out. We all moved away from each other... I enjoyed your Military Man story, btw.

saraluvzbonz wrote:Thanks for the review. I miss my Girl's Nights Out. We all moved away from each other... I enjoyed your Military Man story, btw.

...btw, thanks! lol

I like it. I especially like the fact that it speaks to how Booth has, in many respects, suplanted Angela as Brennan's best friend without meaning to. The two have a connection, a deeper understanding, that Brennan will never have with Angela even though Angie is the one who first found her way past Brennan's walls. Well done.

RM

AN: So this drabble is getting a double-drabble added to it. Hope you enjoy. Rating was changed to reflect more adult themes. Thanks to the person who suggested that I show more of the darkness and to redrider6612 for helping me make the writing better communicate the emotion of the characters.

Several hours later, Booth and Brennan were slumped side-by-side at a bar, nursing beers, the picture of dejection. Neither spoke. She watched him from the corner of her eye. He couldn't be taking this much better than she was. The emotional pressure of the cased they had just closed was unbelievable. She had refused to think about the case itself half of the morning and all afternoon, but her best efforts at compartmentalizing weren't doing anything about the emotional payload she was carrying.

She glanced at Booth again and he gave her a sympathetic look. She blinked tears away and focused on him instead of herself. The muscles in his jaw and neck were clenched. She rested her hand on his knee and squeezed, telling him that she understood. She took a sip of her beer, silently encouraging him to do the same.

When their glasses were empty, they stood, Booth tossed some bills on the bar, and they left. He stopped at their favorite Thai take-out restaurant and ten minutes later, were sitting on his couch, eating.

They hadn't exchanged a word from the time he'd arrived at her office (six-thirty sharp) until they finished dinner, cleaned up the boxes, and returned to the couch with their third beers of the day. The silence was both oppressive and freeing: oppressive because the thoughts and emotions were heavy, but freeing because they were wallowing together.

Despite her best efforts, she couldn't keep pushing away the thoughts and they came surging back in an almost overwhelming flood.

Earlier that day, they'd been called to a crime scene. The small skeleton in the abandoned car was a girl between the ages of eight and ten, dead between two and three years. While she was doing a more in depth examination, Booth called in the VIN number of the car and found out that it had been reported stolen two years before. The owner, Robert Duvall, only lived 10 minutes away, so they went to talk to him while the rest of the team prepared the body and car for transport.

Robert was leaving for work, but he invited them in. His home was clean, if a bit run down. His wife served them glasses of water without looking at either of them. Seeing a picture on the wall, Booth commented that they had beautiful daughters. Upset, the wife hurried from the room, and Robert said the oldest had run away two years ago. The younger daughter walked through living room with a backpack. She was wearing long sleeves in spite of the warm day. It didn't take a genius to figure out the man was physically abusing his family.

Booth asked the usual questions about the car and Robert wanted to know why the FBI was investigating a stolen car. Booth replied that the car had been involved in the commission of a crime that fell under FBI jurisdiction. The flash of fear in Robert's eyes told the whole story. It took a couple of hours to process enough evidence to arrest him. In the interrogation room, he confessed that he'd been so mad he'd locked her in the car and forgot about her. The next day was so hot that she'd died before he remembered to free her. He hid the car, removed the plates, reported it stolen, and filed a missing persons report for his daughter.

"I don't understand how he could do that to his own daughter," Brennan said, finally breaking the silence. Since compartmentalizing wasn't working, maybe talking about it would talk the edge off of her emotions and relieve her internal pressure.

He didn't answer. Instead, he draped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her close.

A few minutes later, she spoke again, her voice shaky. "Booth, she could have been either of us."

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I know, Bones."

Silence descended again as each of them relived parts of their childhood. She could almost smell the musty carpet in the trunk of the car. Booth remembered that his mom often had the same expression as Robert's wife, the one that said she was afraid to say or do anything that might bring out the monster raging inside his father.

Brennan didn't realize she was crying until his thumb wiped a tear from her cheek. He pulled her closer and she buried her face in his shoulder, no longer trying to control her emotions, but instead releasing the pressure the only way possible. His started rubbing circles on her back. If she'd been more aware, she might have noticed a few of his own tears dropping into her hair.

He wasn't sure when she fell asleep, but when he noticed, he placed a pillow on his lap and carefully shifted her head onto it. He rested his head on the back of the couch and eventually he too slept.

The next morning, Booth woke when Brennan sat up. She looked a little embarrassed, but he stretched as though sleeping with her on his couch was an every day occurrence. While she headed to his guest bathroom, he hopped in the shower.

On the way to work, they stopped at her house so she could shower and change. When he dropped her at the Jeffersonian, he opened his mouth to break the silence of the morning, but realized that he didn't know what to say.

Brennan softly kissed his cheek and then exited the car, giving him a smile and a small wave before turning to walk into the office.

The first words she heard that morning were Angela's "Sweetie, I can tell you're feeling better this morning. Did talking to Booth help?"

She smiled and spoke her first words of the day. "I didn't really need to talk. He just understood. But yes, it helped. I promise not to snap at everybody today."

"Wait, you didn't talk? What did you do?"

Brennan smiled, knowing that Angela's mind was already in the gutter, but it had been nice to wake up in his arms, the place she found the most comfort.

That is beautiful and at the same time a perfect example of one of the more complex aspects of their relationship, that being how they share intimacy without being intimate. Well done.

RM