The picture House (3/6) Fandom:Bones
Title:The Picture House (3/6)
Fandom: Bones
Rating: pg-13
Character(s): Temperence Brennan
Pairings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Brennan finds a picture of herself as a 16 year old that catalyses memories. How did she end up there, and what happened along the way? --- Bones is foster care sory
Warnings: Violence in the last part of this chapter, can disturb some so don't read if you don't want to!!
A/N: Will not post again until on Monday, tomorrow is a "holiday" in Sweden and I'm going out of town for four days on Thursday. But I promise the fourth chapter will be up on Monday.
Another FUN thing is: this chapter takes place at the same time as when I was born! xD
November 1992
Watching the snow fall down outside the window, she sighed and pushed herself up and out of the wooden and old bed. The second her feet landed on the floor, she let out a involuntary shreik, and fell back on the bed again. The floor was ice cold, and she would not put her feet back on the ground until her heart had calmed down to a normal rythm. She looked towards the door, counting seconds, afraid that the people she lived with at the moment would get mad and trow a fit at her. If they trew a fit she would get trown out of here and either placed in a new home or get sent back to the group home- she dreeded the day she would get back to the group home.
When a minute had gone she slowly put her feet on the ground, bracing herself for the cold floor. This time she bit her lip and carefully walking over to the small chest of drawers that had been designed to her the month before when she arrived there. She grabbed the first best thing she could find, a pair of jeans and a olive green t-shirt and trew it quickly, then trowing on an over sized hood, socks that didn't macth what she was wearing, and then her shoes.
Hurrying down from the addict she had been given to sleep in and then down into the hallway, the couple she stayed with was fighting again, and she walked quietly into the kitchen to grab a sandwhich. Susan and George were shouting at the top of their lungs, Susan had appearently broke the heater when she went out to smoke that night and didn't bother to tell George when she got in, even though George knew how mad he would've been if she had woken him up he was mad because she didn't.
She took one of the breadslices quickly, hoping she would get out of the way before it turned on her.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" George suddenly yelled, and she froze, and looked at him like a dear caught in the headlights. "Who said you could eat?" he put his face just an inch away from her face, staring into her eyes. His pupils were dialated, and his breathe was hot against her cheek "You're just a spoiled little kid" he spat in her face, she screwed her eyes shut when something wet landed on her cheek. She didn't want to think about that, it always happened at some point during the day, no matter what she did he spat in her face. She wondered if he got off on it.
"Leave the girl alone George! She's not worth it" Susan called from behind him while crossing her arms, appearently she was a bit pissed that he just stopped the argument.
"She needs to know comon sense, can't let her out of the world without teaching her that. We have responsibility of her now" he spoke in a low tone, his eyes squinting and his hand was twitching.
"I was just going to eat something before school" she stated, confused to why this was angering him. He stepped closer to her, pushing her up against the counter, she could feel his breathing against her chest, and she tried to get away by pushing further into the counter. "What, what are you doing?" she asked with a quivering voice, feeling his hands sneek around her wrists, holding them so hard she knew they were going to bruise. "Ah, ah, let go please" she pleaded. For a moment she saw Mike before her instead of George, but then Georgie was back, and she didn't know which was worse.
"Please" she whispered against his cheek, feeling herself collapse against his chest as she gave up, she wouldn't be able to fight him.
It was easier to zoom out when he threw her on the floor, picked her up again and shook her. She focused on a spot on the wall, the ugly clock, everything but him, not even when he put his face in hers did she look him in the eyes, she wouldn't give him that pleasure.
She hated him more for the fact that he would send her back to that foster home. But maybe Mike had turned eighteen, or maybe just maybe they'd caught him steeling or something and he was in jail. Maybe. It was better to think of the positive rather than the negative.
She blacked out at some point and when she woke up she was at the hospital. She blinked a few times at the brightness of the room, then when her eyes focused she saw someone sitting nex to her, Amy Nelson the socialworker. She let out a long sigh and shook her head, she knew she would take her back to that home.
"Where am I going now?" she asked, and her voice was thick and she hated when it was that thick. She realized that she couldn't see on her left eye; it was probably too swolen.
"We think that maybe the group home is going to be the best place for you at the moment" Mrs Nelson answered wearily.
"You think?" she said humorlessly, refusing to look at the socialworker.
"There has to be a trial for this, Temperence, we can't let this man go unpunished for almost... killing you" there was a disgusted sound in her voice as she told her this. "And it's probably best for you if you have a... permanent place to stay in, at least during the course of the trial" she blinked away her tears when she was done.
"What if I don't want to go back there?" she asked challengingly, raising her eyebrows and crossing her arms across her chest, wincing from the pain it caused her.
"You're sixteen Temperence, you have to" her voice was dragged out and tired, it had obviously been a long day for her.
"Don't I have any rights, anything?" she asked again, she turned her head slowly and looked at Amy, the woman that was growing sideways. She filled up the entire chair with her large body.
"Temperence, you've been beaten by a man that was supposed to protect you and care for you, been unconscious for a whole day... we can't put you in another family when you are in this situation" Amy explained, and was just about to continue when a doctor stepped into the room.
"Ms Brennan, I need to talk to you for a few minutes" he looked at Amy pointedly and she stood up and left the room slowly. "How are you feeling?" he asked seriously, standing by the foot of her bed.
"Like I've been beaten by a guy twice my size" she said matter of factly. Why beat around the bush? She knew what had happened, she was there after all.
"Ms. Brennan, you took a serious blow to your head and a couple of kicks to your stomach" he paused and shifted his feet "And when we did an ultrasound to look for internal bleeding we discovered that you have miscarried-"
"What?" she interupted him, shocked.
"You miscarried-"
"I was pregnant?" she asked surprised, feeling her breathing hitch in her throat.
"You didn't know?" he was surprised this time, and she shook her head, confirming his suspicion.
"I never thought I could..." she was at a loss of words. Now after it seemed obvious, but then, she had been too busy trying to cope with everything else. She first thought she felt sad about it, but then she realized that she was relieved. She was sixteen years old, in fostercare, the world was far from ideal to bring a child into.
"You are still capable of having children, so this haven't affected your body on a long-term" she nodded. "You have a concussion, a few broken ribs, but other than bruises there is nothing else that calls for immediate attention. We will release you in a few days"
"Ok" she confirmed that she'd heard what he'd said, but he could hear her mind was somewhere else. That feeling of relief was strange for some reason, like she had actually been worried , like she had thought about it for weeks and now finally it was over. It scared her how close she was since she did not have any money to pay for an abortion. The money she had was locked away in a bank until she turned eighteen, and then it would be used for her education, not raising a child.
Amy slipped inside once again, figuring that their conversation was not over yet. She sat down and looked at the young child staring straight forward with furrowed eyebrows.
"Are there any news of my parents?" she asked, every time she met Amy she asked this. A part of her hoped that her parents weren't dead and they would come home soon and bring her back home and tell Russ that he shouldn't have left her and he would say how sorry he was for leaving her. Really all she did want from Russ was an apology for making her go through this. In an ideal world Russ could take care of her, but lately she's seen how far from reality that is.
"No, I'm sorry" and she got the same answer she's gotten the past five months. First there were clues, they were so sure they'd find them. But then the case started to go cold.
She felt her stomach cramp, and she was torn from her thoughts. She took a deep breathe and willed the pain away. Sixteen and was miscarrying a child, her own child, and she wasn't even sorry.
"Are you all right?" Amy asked her, sitting at the edge of her chair, resting her chubby hands on top of the white sheets.
"I'm fine" she snapped. She did not want people to care for her, that makes her trust them and later cling on to them. It makes it harder when they leave. It's easier to keep everyone at a distance.
"When they release you on Friday I'm the one who's coming to pick you up, and I'll drive you to the home where all your clothes are for now." she informed her, and waited for some kind of confirmation, but she closed her eyes and refused to acknowledge her. She sighed "I'll see you on Friday then, Temperence" and with that she hung her bag on her shoulder and stood up, leaving her alone.
It's not fair, she thought. Nothing is fair.