The brightness of the early morning sun had him squinting his eyes at the sudden intrusion, caught off guard that night had already turned into day. It had been three weeks since he had last felt the cards in his hands. Three weeks since he had drifted back into a world he had once left behind. The case had been wrapped up. The murderer had been caught. But he couldn't stop thinking about the win he had walked away from. The jackpot was huge and he had the cards to take it all, but he walked away. The vision of those two kings in his hand wouldn't leave his mind, even after he had made it back home that night. So he had called Jason. Just one little bet to help get the craving under control again. That first bet on the Cardinals had turned south quickly when they lost 15-4 to his beloved Phillies, so he quickly called Jason back to shift his focus to the NBA playoffs in hopes he could recoup at least some of what he lost. Resources were tight, but he still had the winnings from the undercover poker game lining his pocket. His luck turned when the Hawks pulled off the series win against Brooklyn. He was rolling again and the adrenaline was kicking into high gear. He was on a high and went all in on the next team, but then the Bulls lost a 3 game series lead and he was back in the hole by almost $10,000. And that's what led him to where he stood now. He was done taking chances on bets that were out of his control, so another call to Jason and he was in a new underground game, where he could control the outcome. Or at least he thought. The cards were not as generous as they had been three weeks ago. So he stood here now, shielding his eyes from the rays of the early morning sun, already thinking of how he could earn back the money he had lost the night before.
Staring down at his blank phone, he tried to push away the twinge of guilt that nagged at his stomach. He had long ago turned it off after the flow of calls and text messages wouldn't stop. He was already constructing his alibi in his mind as he made his way back to his car and fired up the engine. Just like he had told his wife and his partner when he left work the night before, there was surveillance he needed to do for a case. Something he could do on his own without either of their assistance. He had kept the details to a minimum because his genius wife and nosy FBI partner were surely to go looking. The lies had begun to get to him though. It was getting more and more difficult to remember which lies he had told and to whom. The money he had won weeks ago was long gone and his mind was constantly turning trying to think of ways to get the money he now owed. Jason was willing to give him some time, but there were others who would not be as patient. It wouldn't be long before they would come looking for him and it would be time to pay up. The consequences of not doing so was something he would not even allow himself to consider.
The fifteen minute drive back to his home seemed to fly by and before he knew it, he was pulling up into the driveway. Turning off the ignition, his head fell back against the seat and he closed his tired eyes. It was still early enough on a Saturday morning that he hoped his wife and his daughter were still sleeping in so he could ease in without being noticed. There had been several of these nights over the last few weeks. Him sneaking in the early hours just after midnight, she sleeping alone in their bed. He had used the excuse of her needing to rest and him not wanting to wake her as to why he fell asleep in the guest room. The first trimester so far had been a little tougher on her this time around. The morning sickness and fatigue had already started and with her desire to keep this pregnancy a secret for now, she had not wanted to let it slow her down at work, something that had caused more than one argument between them. Despite anything else going on with him, the overprotective nature was still there and it, as always, clashed with her independent one. He could feel her shutting him out or maybe it was him shutting her out. He wasn't sure which it was anymore.
About a week ago, she had quit asking him where he had been or who the phone calls were from when he would step away from their family dinner to take a call. They spoke about work, about the baby, about Christine, but nothing more. While a part of him was relieved to not have to concoct another lie to cover a lie from the day before, the other part of him was full of guilt. Every morning, he could see the dark circles under her eyes and he knew it was not just the exhaustion from the pregnancy causing those. He knew he was doing this to her and somehow he had to make it better. If he could just get back on top again, then he would stop. One big win, that's all it would take. At least that's what he tried to convince himself.
Slowly opening the car door, he stepped out into the cool morning air and made his way up the stone covered walkway to the front door, not wanting the noise from the opening of the garage door to wake up the two people he hoped were still peacefully asleep. The house was still dark as he quietly closed the front door, making sure to lock it back behind him. Shuffling his feet toward the kitchen, his heart leapt to his throat when he saw a figure approaching him from the living area. Dark angry eyes were staring back at him through the darkness.
"Where the hell have you been?"
"Angela," he whispered, squinting to see her profile as she approached. "What are you doing here at this time of morning?"
"You didn't answer the question, Booth," she snapped back, crossing her arms in angry defiance. "Where the hell have you been?"
"Out," he groaned, turning his back to her, leery of the best friend wrath he knew was coming. "Bones knows where I was."
"Oh, really?" she scoffed, stepping closer to him. "So, is that why she's been trying to reach you all night? Why we all have been trying to reach you all night?"
He froze mid-step, twisting back around back to face her. "Wait, what? Why were you trying to get me? Did something happen?"
"You have a lot of nerve, you know that, Booth? You have been sneaking around, keeping secrets, and not giving anyone any answers. But now you want me to fill you in on everything that's happened when you were the one out doing God only knows what!"
"Angela!" He could feel the dread creeping up on him and as a result he had zero patience for the lecture she was just beginning. "You can yell at me later, okay? Now, please, just tell me what's going on."
She hesitated, staring him down with anger in her eyes. She loved Booth like a brother, but right now, he was hurting her best friend and that took precedence over any feelings she had for him. "I should make you suffer and keep you in the dark just like you've been doing to your wife, but Brennan needs you and I'm not going to do that to her."
He felt his knees start to buckle as he reached behind him for the edge of the kitchen counter, afraid of what he was about to hear. "What happened, Angela?"
She hesitated, but seeing the blood drain from his face, she relented. "Last night, Aubrey got a lead on Morrison, the suspect in the Rollins case, and he called Brennan to try to find you since you were not answering your phone. She told him she didn't know where you were, but she would meet him there. So she dropped Christine off at my house around 9:00 and headed to some warehouse down on 5th. I tried to get her to wait for you, but she said you were not answering her calls either and she wasn't going to let a suspect get away because you were unavailable."
Booth's fists clenched, trying to deflect the anger he was feeling on someone other than himself. "Aubrey knows better than to let her go to a crime scene without me there! Why would he let her go?"
"No, Booth," she shook her head furiously, pointing her finger at him. "You do not get to blame Aubrey for anything. If it weren't for him, things could have turned out a lot differently than they did tonight." She paused, staring back at him as she knew every worst case scenario was playing in his mind. "Brennan said she got there first and saw Morrison about to leave so she approached him, trying to stall to give Aubrey time to get there. By the time he did, Morrison had already pulled a gun on her. I don't know how, but Brennan pulled away and Morrison shoved her to the ground as he pointed the gun at her again. That's when Aubrey shot him."
"Where is Bones?" His eyes began to dart around the room, looking for some sign his wife was at home. "Where is she, Angela?"
"Well, I guess that answers my question about whether or not you actually listened to the dozen voicemails I left you!" she snapped. "After a trip to the hospital to make sure she and the baby were okay, she asked me to bring her back here. She tried calling you too, but guess you didn't get those message either, huh? Your wife needed you and you were completely AWOL. That is unacceptable, Booth."
"Damn it, Angela, where is my wife?"
"She's in her room sleeping so keep you voice down," she whispered harshly. "And your daughter is asleep as well, so keep it down. They both had a long night and need to rest."
Booth fell onto the nearby bar stool, his hands covered his face as he felt the tears burning his eyes. How could things have gotten this far? How could he have let something like this happen to the person he loved most in this world? This was his fault. All of it.
"Doctor said she's okay, Booth. Her and the baby are both okay. Just some bumps and bruises, but other than that, he said she just needs to take it easy for a couple of days. Avoiding stress would be nice too, so see what you can do to help her with that."
As she reached for her purse and turned toward the door to leave, he called out to her. "I'm sorry, Angela."
Turning back around to face him, she was hit with a wave of empathy for him. She knew Booth was struggling with a lot and she hated what this addiction was doing to him and Brennan. They were her family and it was killing her to not be able to do anything. "I'm not the one who needs to hear that, Booth. Tell Brennan I'll call and check on her this afternoon."
Booth watched her softly close the door behind her and he was once again hit with the deafening silence in the house. The self-defeating voice that came roaring in his head and it sounded very much like his father. The same father he said he would never be like. Yet the same father he had become over the past month. He had sworn to himself that his wife and his daughter would never suffer by his hands like he had suffered at the hands of his father. But they in fact had suffered because of him and was that really any different? Hurting your family in any way was unforgivable. He was an addict and despite what he had told Bones when this all started, he wasn't strong enough. And he knew if he didn't do something about it, he was very much in danger in losing the only thing that mattered to him. His family.
"Daddy?"
Booth jerked upright, roughly rubbing his fingers against the wetness around his eyes as he turned to the sweet voice behind him. "Baby, what are you doing up so early on a Saturday?"
"I heard you talking to someone." Christine gripped her arm tighter around her stuffed bunny as she slid her bare feet across the kitchen floor. Making her way to her father, she looked up at him with sad eyes. "And you didn't tuck me in last night so it's been forever since I saw you."
Booth leaned down to pick her up and set her down on the edge of the counter. He sat back down on the bar stool in front of her so they were almost at eye level with each other. "I'm sorry, baby. I should have been here to tuck you in and finish up that story we started the other night. The one with the kangaroo, remember? We were just getting to the good part."
Christine let her stuffed bunny slide out of her arms as she placed her tiny hands on Booth's cheeks, holding his head still. "No, that's not it. I just missed you, Daddy. That's all."
Booth reached up to kiss her on the nose eliciting a sweet giggle from his little girl. "I missed you too, my sweet girl. I'm sorry Daddy hasn't been around much lately, but I promise that's going to change."
"I think mommy misses you too. Aunt Angela said the baby was making her tired, but I heard her crying last night and she sounded sad. I don't like it when mommy cries." As she whispered, her head tilted to the left, looking at him intently. In that moment, between the famous Bones head tilt and the piercing eyes that were tiny replicas of her mother's, he broke. Tears trickled from his eyes as Christine's small fingers wiped them away from his cheek. "Are you sad too, Daddy?"
Reaching for her hands, he pressed her tiny fingers to his lips, kissing each one as he forced a smile to his face. "I'm okay, baby. At least I will be after I get one of those super-duper Christine Angela Booth hugs."
Lunging forward, Christine wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him with all her might. He buried his face against her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of the baby shampoo her mother still insisted on using with her. "How's that, Daddy? Is my super-duper hug making you feel better?"
Swallowing against the lump in his throat, he hesitated before leaning back to kiss his little girl on the forehead. "Yeah, baby. Your hugs are still like magic and they always do the trick."
"There's no such thing as magic, Daddy," she giggled. "Mommy says it's science and that the hug goes to your brain to tell it that you feel better."
"I say it's magic," he smiled back. "Now, why don't you go play in your room for a little while, but be really quiet because Mommy is still asleep, okay. Maybe after she wakes up, we can make some pancakes for breakfast. Does that sound like a plan?"
"That sounds like a great plan!" she squealed, clapping her hands in excitement. "Maybe I can give Mommy a super-duper hug so she will feel better too. I don't want Mommy to be sad."
"Me either, baby," he sighed, pulling his daughter into another hug. "Maybe between the two of us, we can fix that and help her to feel better." Standing up, he slowly began to bend down to set Christine back down to her feet. "Now you go play and I'll come get you soon for pancakes."
His eyes followed his little girl as she grabbed her stuffed bunny and ran back down the hall toward her room until she was out of sight. The wisdom of his 4 year old never ceased to amaze him. She was definitely Temperance Brennan's daughter and wise way beyond her years.
Christine had been a good distraction, but now it was time to face the truth. His blood ran cold as the images from what his wife must have endured tonight played on a continuous loop in his mind. Hadn't that always been his fear? That she would get hurt in the field. That's why he had always insisted that he be with her. At least then he could keep her behind him and keep her safe. But he wasn't there this time and she had been hurt. No, he had been hiding in some underground hideout blowing every last dollar he had while his wife had some thug pull a gun on her. If only be hadn't turned that damn phone off. At the time the distraction had made him angry, but in truth it was more the guilt it made him feel. That guilt was multiplied tenfold now. He shuddered as he thought about how easily things could have turned out different. If Aubrey hadn't been there or if he had been a few minutes too late. He easily could have lost her tonight and he had no one to blame but himself. Instead he was able to say a silent prayer that his wife and his baby were okay, all the while vowing that he would never let his wife or his children be in the center of danger again.
Stepping silently down the hall, he stopped at his daughter's closed bedroom door hearing her talking softly to her dolls, obviously in the midst of another tea party. Knowing that would keep her occupied for the next little bit, he kept moving, pausing as his hand reached for the cold metal door knob of their bedroom. Turning it in his hand, he cracked the door open deliberately, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. Only the rays of the early morning sun peeking through the blinds provided any illumination, but he could still make out the silhouette of his wife as she lay in the bed with her back to him. Closing the door shut behind him, he made his way around their bed and knelt beside her, softly brushing her hair away from her face as she continued to sleep peacefully. Immediately he could make out the discoloration from a bruise that had formed just below her right eye and he felt an onslaught of emotions course through his veins. Anger, sadness, guilt...they all combined to make his head dizzy with the desire to do something to make this right. As much as he hated Morrison for laying a finger on her, he hated himself more for putting her in a position where someone could hurt her. He did this. Maybe it wasn't his hands that caused the bruises, but this was his fault.
As if sensing his presence, she began to stir, her eyes narrowing as she tried to make out the face of the figure in front of her. Without speaking, she reached her hand to his face, her fingers caressing him softly as he turned to press his lips to the palm of her hand. "Hey," he whispered.
"Where have you been?" her voice cracked, still thick with sleep. "I tried reaching you several times last night and my call went straight to voicemail. Are you having problems with your phone?"
He exhaled slowly as he shook his head no. "No, there's nothing wrong with my phone. I turned it off."
"Oh," she sighed. "Well, I guess that explains why Aubrey was unable to reach you as well." Pulling her hand away, she rolled to her side, turning her back to him and started to slide across the bed. Swinging her legs to the floor, she gingerly pushed herself to her feet, her legs feeling a bit wobbly as she stood. Booth was quick to jump to her side, reaching to help steady her, but she stepped back, pushing his hand away without looking in his direction. "I don't need your help, Booth."
She was angry. That much was obvious. And this time he couldn't even defend himself because she had every right to be angry with him. Watching her march across the room, the bathroom door closed with a thud behind her. Immediately he began to rehearse the lines in his mind, preparing yet another story to cover more lies. But then his eyes caught sight of the picture he kept on his side of the bed. It was a copy of the picture that had gotten him through prison. All those nights he had slept alone, surrounding by cement and steel bars, wishing for his family and fearing he would never get to be with them again. But he did get them back, thanks to his brilliant wife, and now he was on the verge of throwing it all away.
He had to fix this. There was no way he was letting the best thing that had ever happened to him walk out that door. Waiting anxiously, he jumped when the door finally opened and out walked his wife. She looked more awake now, her robe and pajamas replaced by her favorite yoga pants and his Flyers t-shirt. Her hair was pulled back giving him a better view of the bruise that colored her face causing him to swallow hard against the anger that began to rise again. Glancing his way, she stood motionless for a moment before turning toward the door to exit their room.
"Bones, wait," he pleaded.
"Christine is probably up by now and I need to prepare breakfast for her," she stated sullenly, not turning to face him.
"I've already talked with Christine. She's playing right now and I promised we would make pancakes after you woke up. She was fine with that." Still she did not turn back to him. "Bones, please, look at me."
"What do you want, Booth?" Swiveling around, she stared intently at him. "I don't think there is anything for us to say."
"Yes, there is," he disagreed. "At least, I do anyway. I have a lot to say. Please just give me a chance."
She paused as if considering her options before finally relenting and sitting down on the edge of the bed furthest away from him. He saw the impatience written on her face and he knew his time was short, so he jumped right in.
"I haven't been honest with you in weeks, Bones," he began, watching as her expression never wavered. "But I guess you already knew that. I know I promised you that I was strong enough to handle the gambling to close the case, but looks like you were right again and I wasn't." She opened to mouth to respond, but he held up his hand to stop her. "Just give me a minute, okay? My life was a mess last time and that was my excuse for why I let the gambling get out of control. That was the excuse at least. Aubrey tried to warn me that with the shooting, prison, Sweets…all of it had taken a toll on me, but I wouldn't admit it. I just wanted to forget about all of that because every time I thought about it, it was like I kept reliving it and I just wanted to move on. I'll admit it probably wasn't the greatest idea to try to suppress what's happened and the affect it's had on me. With the case, I wanted to be strong enough to do my job and not let the gambling be a problem. I did not want to use any of what happened as an excuse and I still don't. Especially not Sweets..." He paused and inhaled sharply, trying to keep his emotions in check. "Sweets…no, I won't do that to his memory. The truth is that's it me. I have to own up to my mistakes and that means accepted the consequences of what I have done. I know you are disappointed in me and I will never be able to tell you how sorry I am for letting you down."
"Booth, it's an addiction," she interrupted, her eyes softening a bit as she slid closer to him. "Yes, you have made some wrong choices and I do not like it when you lie to me. However, you were wrong when you said I did not believe you were strong enough." Reaching for his hand, she intertwined her fingers with his. "I have witnessed you fight through many things in your life and I have seen the evidence of what you endured and overcame in the time before I met you. I know you are strong enough to overcome this again. And this time you are not along. You have me and you have your children. We can be strong with you."
Tears welled up in his eyes as he lifted his head toward her. He did not deserve this woman, her love, her understanding or her patience. All her life the people she loved most in the world have lied to her and abandoned her and he was following that same pattern. It was not the life she deserved and it was up to him to change that.
"I love you so much," he choked. "You, Christine, Parker, the new baby…all of you are what matter most in my life and I don't know why I lose sight of that sometimes. I want to be better than that for your sake. I do not want you looking back at your life and thinking you wasted it on me."
"That is not possible, Booth. I love you and I am your partner. We made a commitment to each other and I am not going anywhere. Right now I do not need you to be strong for me or for our children. You do not need to protect us or shelter us. I just need you to be strong for you."
"I'm the one who is supposed to protect you, Bones," he groaned. "You were in danger tonight and I wasn't there. I know you don't like it when I get overprotective, but I swore I would never become my father and that is exactly who I am."
"No!" She stated empathically as she squeezing his hand. "You are not your father, Booth. You never have been and you never could be."
"I need to make this right," he whispered, leaning forward so their heads were touching.
She raised her fingers to gently caress the stubble that had grown overnight on his cheek. "You will, but you need to call your sponsor, Booth. And the next time a case comes up involving anything related to gambling, promise me you will let Aubrey handle it."
"Okay," he nodded, shifting his arms to pull her closer to him. "I promise."
They remained wrapped in each other's arms for several minutes before a wave of nausea swept over her causing her to groan and pull back a bit.
"You okay?" he questioned in concern, dipping his head to look at her suddenly pale face.
Pausing a moment, she took a long, deep breath, exhaling slowly, calming her stomach a bit. "Yes," she breathed. "If I wait just a moment, it will pass."
His eyes drifted down to see several finger size purple and blue bruises extending below her elbow. He turned her arm toward him to get a better look. "What the hell?"
"It's nothing, Booth," she tried to cover.
"Yes, it is," his eyes wide with fury. "This is what I was talking about. You never should have been at that crime scene without me. Aubrey should not have called you."
"Aubrey had a case to solve and a suspect to catch," she demanded. "Before you get upset with him, you should know he told me not to go to the crime scene. It was my decision to go and to approach the suspect before he arrived. He was quite upset with me after we were safe. Of course, I think he was more afraid of how upset you would be when you found out."
"I'm not going to lie and say that I'm not looking forward to interrogating Morrison for pulling a gun on you. As for Aubrey, he saved your life when I wasn't there so guess I owe him." Shaking those thoughts out of his mind, he reached for her hands again, pulling her up off the bed. Brushing her hair back over her shoulders, his eyes examined her closely. "Angela told me what the doctor said, but are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes," she smiled. "I am perfectly healthy as is the baby. You do not need to worry about us, Booth."
"Okay," he sighed. "I'm surprised Christine has not coming running in here yet, but I'm guessing it's past time for those pancakes."
Gripping her hand in his, he began to pull her toward the door. "Wait," she pulled back, turning around to grab the phone off the bedside table. "There is something you need to do first."
Looking at the phone in her hand, he hesitated, but slowly nodded his head in agreement as he accepted the phone from her.
"I'll go get Christine and we'll start gathering items for the pancakes. You come join us as soon you're finished, okay?"
He nodded slightly as he gripped her hand tighter. "I love you."
"I love you too, Booth," she leaned in to press a tender kiss to his lips. "Always."
Watching the door close behind her, he stared at the phone in hands. Quickly dialing the number he should have dialed weeks ago, he brought it up to his ear waiting for the ringing to stop. Suddenly a voice on the other end of the line was there. "Mike, it's Seeley Booth. It's been a tough few weeks and I think I need to talk. Can you meet me this afternoon?...Yeah, the diner is good. I'll see you at 2:00. Thanks."
Pressing the off button, he set the phone back on the nightstand, rubbing his hands over his tired face. Calling his sponsor was just one step, but it was the first time in three weeks that it was a step in the right direction. It was hard feeling like he was starting this journey all over again, but he had to remind himself that he did it once before so could do it again. And this time he had more to fight for.
But for now, it was time for pancakes with his favorite girls.