(no subject)
Title: 4am Questions.
Author: rolleson
Fandom: Bones
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing: Slight Brennan/Booth
Spoilers: 2.18 Killer In The Concrete, Slight for 2.11 Judas On A Pole.
Summery: Post episode musings for Brennan.
Warnings: None.
Notes: Short. 652 Words. I've never written Bones fic before so give me a break.
Booth was safely tucked up in bed. Her father the same no doubt and she knew she should be too. Sleeping.
The Jeffersonian was silent at 4am. No bird song penetrated the walls. The security guards stayed in their offices. All the computers and lights were off.
Except her laptop and lamp.
Right now she had too much to think about. She had a song in her head for the first time in five years and a police file thicker than most books on her desk. Every page was just crime after crime and she just couldn’t see what Booth saw. She couldn’t understand that mentality, that her father was a good criminal.
Criminals aren’t good. It was that black or white for her but that wasn’t what had kept her in her office all night. What had kept her awake up all night. Perhaps she could forgive her father, for leaving her, for killing, burning, torturing, for being a good criminal. In time. Right now, she wasn’t sure if she could forgive herself for following him around and watching as he extracted information out of people. Almost crushing a model airplane didn’t really enter into it all, but Veleska Miller's muffled cries played on her mind and the way she flew up into the air. The smack of her back on the corner of the corridor.
Like father like son? Isn’t that what Booth would say. Did daughters come into that?
But then, she’d lashed out just as violently when she had found Booth’s tooth, the fear and panic and violence of the situation had all just come out in one punch, one screaming act of anger in her own head. She’d hit people before, flipped them over her shoulders, shot people before, but this had been different, felt different. Why?
What did that mean?
She wanted to find Booth. It was that simple?
Was it?
Could she forgive herself for that blow? For watching her dad smother a woman, for asking for his help when she’d examined the remains of his last two murder victims herself?
Those were the questions that kept her awake, sitting at her desk. The file to one side, the laptop on but untouched, Booth asleep across town. Her father asleep across the state line.
He’ll be back.
She wanted to know about her mother, wanted to know what he had to tell her but she was starting to wonder if it would cost too much. Today had led her down a grey area and she didn’t like it. Didn’t like the uncertainty of the morality and it was far too early for these kind of thoughts.
She rarely thought about anything else.
Her job, her life, always brought her back around to the morality of everything. Right and wrong. Wrong led to bones to examine. Right meant she could go home at the end of it all.
By that reasoning alone it meant that something was wrong because she wasn’t at home.
Booth was safe. Alive. Wasn’t that what she had wanted? Was it worth it? At the cost of herself?
Yes. It was worth it, he was worth it.
She just couldn’t understand why it all felt so wrong.
She fell to sleep on the file, dreams swirling around two people. Her father and Booth.
When she woke up, it was Booth that greeted her. Coffee, doughnuts and a battered smile. She smiled back. He would call it sacrificing her soul, and tell her he wasn’t worth it. And she knew what the reply would be, she didn’t believe in the soul. And Booth was worth it. Every line she had to cross was worth it for him. He was her friend. There was no doubt about that, but she couldn’t quite tell him that. So she kept it to herself.
She could only take the coffee and smile and know that she’d do it all over again.
Author: rolleson
Fandom: Bones
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing: Slight Brennan/Booth
Spoilers: 2.18 Killer In The Concrete, Slight for 2.11 Judas On A Pole.
Summery: Post episode musings for Brennan.
Warnings: None.
Notes: Short. 652 Words. I've never written Bones fic before so give me a break.
Booth was safely tucked up in bed. Her father the same no doubt and she knew she should be too. Sleeping.
The Jeffersonian was silent at 4am. No bird song penetrated the walls. The security guards stayed in their offices. All the computers and lights were off.
Except her laptop and lamp.
Right now she had too much to think about. She had a song in her head for the first time in five years and a police file thicker than most books on her desk. Every page was just crime after crime and she just couldn’t see what Booth saw. She couldn’t understand that mentality, that her father was a good criminal.
Criminals aren’t good. It was that black or white for her but that wasn’t what had kept her in her office all night. What had kept her awake up all night. Perhaps she could forgive her father, for leaving her, for killing, burning, torturing, for being a good criminal. In time. Right now, she wasn’t sure if she could forgive herself for following him around and watching as he extracted information out of people. Almost crushing a model airplane didn’t really enter into it all, but Veleska Miller's muffled cries played on her mind and the way she flew up into the air. The smack of her back on the corner of the corridor.
Like father like son? Isn’t that what Booth would say. Did daughters come into that?
But then, she’d lashed out just as violently when she had found Booth’s tooth, the fear and panic and violence of the situation had all just come out in one punch, one screaming act of anger in her own head. She’d hit people before, flipped them over her shoulders, shot people before, but this had been different, felt different. Why?
What did that mean?
She wanted to find Booth. It was that simple?
Was it?
Could she forgive herself for that blow? For watching her dad smother a woman, for asking for his help when she’d examined the remains of his last two murder victims herself?
Those were the questions that kept her awake, sitting at her desk. The file to one side, the laptop on but untouched, Booth asleep across town. Her father asleep across the state line.
He’ll be back.
She wanted to know about her mother, wanted to know what he had to tell her but she was starting to wonder if it would cost too much. Today had led her down a grey area and she didn’t like it. Didn’t like the uncertainty of the morality and it was far too early for these kind of thoughts.
She rarely thought about anything else.
Her job, her life, always brought her back around to the morality of everything. Right and wrong. Wrong led to bones to examine. Right meant she could go home at the end of it all.
By that reasoning alone it meant that something was wrong because she wasn’t at home.
Booth was safe. Alive. Wasn’t that what she had wanted? Was it worth it? At the cost of herself?
Yes. It was worth it, he was worth it.
She just couldn’t understand why it all felt so wrong.
She fell to sleep on the file, dreams swirling around two people. Her father and Booth.
When she woke up, it was Booth that greeted her. Coffee, doughnuts and a battered smile. She smiled back. He would call it sacrificing her soul, and tell her he wasn’t worth it. And she knew what the reply would be, she didn’t believe in the soul. And Booth was worth it. Every line she had to cross was worth it for him. He was her friend. There was no doubt about that, but she couldn’t quite tell him that. So she kept it to herself.
She could only take the coffee and smile and know that she’d do it all over again.