Title: Buried Memories
Author: Little Miss Defensive &
Rating: R17
Pairing: Brennan/Booth (eventually)
Summary: A murder hits too close to home for Bones. (Figuratively & literally) and brings back memories that would have been best left forgotten.
Authors Note: I just want to warn you that this fic involves rape and depression...If you don't like reading about it, please don't read this. I don't want to trigger anyone. :(
Chapter 1: Memories Best Left Forgotten.
Are you alright?
Three little words were my undoing.
I pride myself for being in control of my emotions most of the time. Sure I've been through some tough times, who hasn't? But I try not to dwell on things that have happened in the past. Until now that is. I lifted my head out of my hands, and leant my back against the bathroom wall. What exactly had I done to tip him off that something was wrong?
I had been sitting in my office, reading the paper. It was then I'd noticed the article. The girl, not so far from my own home... raped and beaten to death. The suspected rapist, Thomas Benson rang alarm bells in my head. "Just call me Uncle Tommy," a horrible, mocking voice rattled around in my head. I had sat in shock for a bit, and then folded the newspaper, and pulled out my "thinking" bone as I'd called it. I'd been given a fibula many years ago when I'd first begun my job. No other bones from the body had been found. But the young man, who had given it to me, was certain it was his brothers. When I needed time to think, without getting emotional I focused on the fibula. On the small nutrient foramen, on the yellowed edge to the bone, the weight of it in my hand. At the same time, I ran through the names of my foster siblings, the ones that had lived with 'Uncle Tommy,' too. I hadn't lived there long, but long enough for...
"Bones,"
"What?" I had tried not to keep my facial expression neutral. But his brow was furrowed in concern, as always, he knew something was up.
"Are you alright?" The bone slid from my fingers, and clunked onto the table. I didn't trust myself to speak; I could feel the tears welling behind my eyes. The memories from Uncle Tommy's grotty house, the smell of urine, the smell of blood...
"Yes," I managed to choke out. But it was obviously not true, since even as I had said the word I could taste the salty tears on my lips. I licked them clean, and swiped at the tears on my face uselessly. He was at my side in seconds, his hand on my shoulder, genuine concern on his face. I cleared my throat as quietly as possible..."No," I'd admitted and pulled free of his hand, and walked as purposely as possible for my office door, which had never seemed so far away from my desk before. My hand trembled, and it took a couple of tries for me to even open the door. Breathe Temperance. Breathe. I'd reminded myself.
And here I am, hiding out in the bathroom. Only just able to hold myself together now ten minutes or so later. Knocking on the bathroom door interrupted my thoughts.
"Bones, are you alright?" I breathed deeply.
"I'm fine," I called back, glad to hear my voice didn't sound as shaky as it had back in my office.
"Can you come out now?"
"No." No, no. I can't control myself properly yet.
"Can I come in?"
"No!" I exclaimed. Does he not understand?
There was silence on the other side of the door, and I felt guilty. I stretched forward and opened the door, but sat back down. He edged his rather large body through the door, and shut it behind him. I was surprised he hadn't told everyone else, and made them come to my "rescue" too. It seemed like something he would do. But it was only him outside the door.
"What's going on?" He asked.
I had my knees tucked up to my chest. He stroked my hair, his fingers brushed down my jaw and then down my arm, and finally rested on my hand which was on my knee. Where his fingers touched burned, and it was a welcomed distraction. Did he know that he did that to me? We tried so hard to keep our relationship platonic. But I'm sure he must feel the sexual attraction. It's just normal. Two strong, healthy and intelligent humans working so closely together...? It was inevitable... the instinct to breed was going to happen eventually. That's what sexual attraction is really, it's just that people like to ignore that part of it, and use contraception, people like myself who had no plans of having children in the future.
"Thomas Benson," I said quietly. Booth's brow furrowed once more, and I reached my free hand up to smooth it. He was crouching uncomfortably, but didn't choose to sit. Although, I'm not sure he'd have been able to in the small bathroom stall we were in right now, so maybe he didn't have any choice but to crouch.
"What about him?" He asked, I left my hand lightly resting on his forehead, and felt his brow wrinkle, and it stayed that way. He was worried.
"When will they release the victim's name?"
"Hopefully within the next couple of days..." He told me; squeezing my knee gently.
"I'll know more, and be able to explain myself when I know her name." I admitted. "I'll explain it then." I paused, and finally managed to look him in the eyes. "I promise."
"Do you want me to drive you home?"
"No,"
"Let me re-word that. I am driving you home." Booth responded to my defiant no. "There is no need to get so defensive Bones; I'm just trying to help."
I gave in. Easier to be driven I guessed than to be driving back to my empty apartment by myself in this kind of mood. But I put up the usual struggle, and grumbled all the way to the car to make sure he didn't think something more was wrong with me. The worried sick look on his face made me feel guilty enough as it was. What if I was wrong? Maybe it wasn't Uncle Tommy after all.
TBC
I wrote down my ideas for this a couple of years ago. But I've re-written it. Is it okay? Please me gentle, haven't written in quite some time!
It has to drag a bit in this chapter. It'll get more interesting soon, promise.