Bones Fic: In the Trenches, ch 4
Title: In the Trenches Part 4/2630
Author: amilyn
Rating: PG-13 (themes, abuse)
Warnings: Bullying. Physical and emotional abuse.
Chapter 3
Chapter 4: Rules and Regs
***
Temperance did all of her work in her room, and, except for "family" dinner time, spent all her time there with the door closed, ignoring Kyle's periodic kicks at her door. She saw no point to interacting with people who were not her family. People who were never going to be her family.
Instead she kept her mind busy. In addition to doing her homework, she'd read half a dozen books since arriving. So far she'd been able to supply herself with books from the high school's tiny library, but soon she'd be reduced to reading Mrs. Martin's romance novels.
She needed a library card for this town, and Mrs. Martin hadn't found time to take her. She'd go herself, but the bicycle she had picked out with Dad for riding through the forest preserves was in the shed in the backyard...if either were still there.
She'd been in the Martins' home for three weeks, and the only thing that felt remotely normal was the doing of homework.
The food was still...different. Never bad, but never anything that tasted like home. The bed had a slight dip and was a touch too soft where it wasn't too hard. The pillows were too flat. She should have brought her own but it hadn't occurred to her in the flurry of packing.
Her clothes even felt and smelled wrong; Mrs. Martin used fabric softener in everything, and the towels would hardly absorb any water.
Instead of area rugs, this house had static-generating carpet. She felt like everything she touched shocked her a bit.
Doing her homework, though, that was a constant. This Tuesday she sat in the living room, history book in her lap, waiting for the broadcast her Physics teacher had asked them to see. Limited experience had taught her that staking out the television time was necessary.
Kyle walked past and swatted at her hair, flipping his hand back and forth through its length at her neck.
"Stop it!"
"Oh, does that bother you, Temper?" he asked in a mocking tone.
She concentrated on reading about Theodore Roosevelt and the Spanish-American War.
Kyle flopped down on the couch next to her and turned on the television, which sang, "We're tiny, we're toony, we're all a little loony..."
"Kyle, I'm doing my homework."
"Bor-ring! That's all you ever do. You should have some fun sometime." He sang along with the theme song, leaning toward her to shout, "Elmyra is INSANE!"
She turned slightly away, scooting her hips, leaning to the side, and pulling the book closer to her face. She started the paragraph about canals in Central America again, adjusting her thinking so that sound was filtered out.
Several pages later Kyle patted her shoulder rapidly. "Look! Temper, look-look-look!" He pointed while waving a hand between her face and the book.
She looked up.
"Ha! Gotcha!"
"Kyle, I'm reading my homework. Don't you have homework to do?"
"I don't do homework. Anyway, it was all dumb."
She set the book in her lap, frowning. "Is the work difficult for you?" She paused. Then, though she felt a shudder at the thought, continued "I could help you if you like."
"What? You think I'm STUPID?" Kyle shouted. "Just because you're some kind of freaking GENIUS you think that I need your help?"
"I didn't say that--"
"MOM!" Kyle ran out of the room. "Temper-Temper said I was stupid!"
Mrs. Martin appeared, a crease folding her forehead. Even Temperance could see her concern. "Temperance, were you making fun of Kyle?"
"No, ma'am," Temperance shook her head. "I'm doing my homework and he was interrupting me, so I offered to help him with his."
Mrs. Martin looked at her, still frowning, then said, "Temperance, I want you to come here, please. Kyle, go ahead and watch your cartoon."
When they reached the laundry room off the kitchen, Mrs. Martin closed the door. There was a long silence, and Temperance looked at her feet. She hated being in trouble--the way her stomach moved too freely, the way she could feel her face hot and red, how she couldn't stop chewing her lip. She was sure she looked guilty of whatever it was Mrs. Martin was sure she'd done.
"Temperance, you're new here, and you don't know Kyle very well." The woman reached to touch her arm, but Temperance stepped back, and Mrs. Martin let her hand fall. "Kyle has always had a very hard time in school. His learning disabilities just add to his emotional and behavioral problems. I think it's even worse for him that you do so very well." Mrs. Martin's smile looked somewhat apologetic.
Temperance had no idea what to say. Should she apologize? She couldn't offer to do poorly in school. She had no idea how to pretend the work was hard.
"You've got to understand," Mrs. Martin continued quickly. "Kyle's been working really, really hard. He has. He's doing so much better than a couple of years ago. He's having some small successes. It's better than he's ever done." Here she nodded, smiling. "But he's not stupid. You have to know that and remember that. It's just...when he sees you, I think it hurts him and he feels even more stupid than he already does. He's just very frustrated and..." Mrs. Martin cringed. "Well...I think it would probably be easier for him if you always did your schoolwork in your room like you have been. Do you think you could do that?"
Temperance could feel a piece of dry skin peeling off between her teeth and she wrapped her fingers around each other. "Yes, ma'am," she whispered.
"Thank you," Mrs. Martin said, and reached for her again.
Temperance evaded Mrs. Martin's touch then said, "I was only down here today because I need to watch a NASA report. It's on the MacNeil-Lehrer News Hour. My physics teacher asked us to. I was afraid I wouldn't get a turn on the TV. That's why I was downstairs."
"Well, that's fine, of course. We are really proud of how well you're doing in this new school."
At that Temperance did look into Mrs. Martin's eyes. Why would she be proud? Foster parents were paid to provide food and shelter, not to care about their ward’s well-being. Pride was an emotional response and required a connection that didn't exist in their relationship.
"It helps us so much that you set a good example for Kyle. I think he'll take to you after a while. Just ignore his behavior. If he doesn't get a reaction, he'll stop."
She frowned, off her guard, and Mrs. Martin got a hand on her arm and rubbed it twice. She flinched away, mumbling another "yes, ma'am," as she went back to the couch.
Through the rest of her AP History chapter, Kyle poked her arm, looked over her shoulder and read words aloud, and bumped into her when he laughed at the cartoon. Temperance just pulled farther back against the arm of the sofa and turned the book away from his view. She wrote a practice essay timed to the length of the following cartoon.
Kyle grabbed the paper during a commercial and yanked it away, causing a long pen mark across the page.
"Stop! That's my homework!"
"Are you getting mad yet? Am I bothering you yet?"
She curled her feet up under her, trying to make space between her and Kyle, and finished the essay. She tucked it carefully into her folder, placing that on the end table away from him. She did her Calculus and Physics problems through the next program, reminding Kyle of her reserved time.
"Do people tell you two or three times a day that you're ugly?" He poked at her cheek. "I'm surprised I haven't turned to stone yet."
"Don't touch me," she growled.
"Don't touch me, don't touch me," he sing-songed back.
"Don't you have a show to watch?"
"Don't you have a show to watch?"
She knew this game and had never won it with Russ or the kids at her old school, so she stopped speaking and just focused on the problems on the page. The clock gave her twenty-five minutes until the broadcast.
At five till six, she said, "Kyle, I need to watch something for school. Please turn to channel 11."
"And who's going to make me?"
"Kyle, give me the remote. I have homework to do."
"That's all you do, little prissy two-shoes. You think you're so smart."
"I am so smart," she replied. "And I have physics work to do." She grabbed at the remote and tugged.
"Oh, are you getting mad now? Temper, Temper, do you have a temper?"
"Give it to me!" she demanded, feeling her cheeks flame again--or still--with the sting of the past two hours of slights. She pried his fingers away from the remote and yanked it out of his hands. "Give it to me and leave me alone, you little brat!"
"Temperance!" Mr. Martin was standing behind them, eyes dark. "Temperance, name-calling is unacceptable in this household. You should know better. We expect you to set an example of positive behavior for Kyle."
"But, Mr. Martin--"
"No, buts, young lady. You are going to spend the evening in your room to reflect on how this kind of behavior is hurtful to others. Mrs. Martin will bring you a minimal dinner, but you will not leave except to use the restroom. And if I ever catch you speaking like that to anyone in this house again, you will lose a great many more privileges. Do I make myself clear?"
Temperance felt a huge pressure in her chest and throat, a combination of indignation, shame, and mortification that he would think this of her. Tears threatened, and she blinked them back as she whispered, "Yes, sir. But--"
"I said no buts."
"May I please watch this report for my homework?"
"Report?"
"Yes, sir. NASA has new images of Jupiter from the Hubble Space Telescope and measurements that demonstrate the flow of subatomic particles in the immense gravitational and magnetic field of the planet. We just did gravitational fields in physics and--"
"See?" Kyle pointed at her, his finger almost touching her. "See? She does this all the time just to show off!"
"Kyle, I don't think she's doing it on purpose," Mr. Martin soothed.
"Yes, she is! She's been making fun of me since we got home, telling me I'm stupid and rubbing my face in it about how great she is."
"I have n--"
"Just watch your report, Temperance. Then go to your room. I don't want to see you lose your temper with Kyle like this again. Come on, kiddo. Tell me about your day while we set the table." He put an arm around Kyle's shoulders.
Temperance held the remote in a death-grip and pressed the buttons to change the channel and adjust the volume. She took notes on auroral activity at Jupiter's poles and the data about how the UV and infrared aurorae were impossible to study through the filter of Earth's atmosphere. As soon as they moved to another topic she fled to her room, where she wrote up her notes with references to the book's analogy of space as a rubber sheet and the bending of light and particles along the gravity well.
Mrs. Martin didn't speak to her when she brought in food, and Temperance felt ashamed and guilty, avoided making eye contact, then ate quickly and went to bed.
She fell asleep curled into a tight ball, clutching a sweater that had been her mother's.
***
Chapter 5
Posting Schedule: This story has 2630 parts, which will post here and at ff.net on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
Author's Notes
Thanks upon thanks to my wonderful betas and sounding boards: jsq, bluemorpho, and havocthecat. HUGE and effusive gratitude to my line-editor and prodder to make this story as good as I could at this time, as well as encouragement and sounding board services while I planned and wrote for two years to Ayiana.
You can look up what the Hubble found out about Jupiter on the pass through in early 1992.
Kyle is singing (incorrectly) the theme song from Tiny Toons.
Spoilers: Story ends pre-series, but contains spoilers for all episodes that deal with Brennan's childhood and history. My notes and extrapolations on Brennan's background can be found at at my Temperance Brennan Timeline.
Feedback is welcome. :-)
Author: amilyn
Rating: PG-13 (themes, abuse)
Warnings: Bullying. Physical and emotional abuse.
Chapter 3
Chapter 4: Rules and Regs
***
Temperance did all of her work in her room, and, except for "family" dinner time, spent all her time there with the door closed, ignoring Kyle's periodic kicks at her door. She saw no point to interacting with people who were not her family. People who were never going to be her family.
Instead she kept her mind busy. In addition to doing her homework, she'd read half a dozen books since arriving. So far she'd been able to supply herself with books from the high school's tiny library, but soon she'd be reduced to reading Mrs. Martin's romance novels.
She needed a library card for this town, and Mrs. Martin hadn't found time to take her. She'd go herself, but the bicycle she had picked out with Dad for riding through the forest preserves was in the shed in the backyard...if either were still there.
She'd been in the Martins' home for three weeks, and the only thing that felt remotely normal was the doing of homework.
The food was still...different. Never bad, but never anything that tasted like home. The bed had a slight dip and was a touch too soft where it wasn't too hard. The pillows were too flat. She should have brought her own but it hadn't occurred to her in the flurry of packing.
Her clothes even felt and smelled wrong; Mrs. Martin used fabric softener in everything, and the towels would hardly absorb any water.
Instead of area rugs, this house had static-generating carpet. She felt like everything she touched shocked her a bit.
Doing her homework, though, that was a constant. This Tuesday she sat in the living room, history book in her lap, waiting for the broadcast her Physics teacher had asked them to see. Limited experience had taught her that staking out the television time was necessary.
Kyle walked past and swatted at her hair, flipping his hand back and forth through its length at her neck.
"Stop it!"
"Oh, does that bother you, Temper?" he asked in a mocking tone.
She concentrated on reading about Theodore Roosevelt and the Spanish-American War.
Kyle flopped down on the couch next to her and turned on the television, which sang, "We're tiny, we're toony, we're all a little loony..."
"Kyle, I'm doing my homework."
"Bor-ring! That's all you ever do. You should have some fun sometime." He sang along with the theme song, leaning toward her to shout, "Elmyra is INSANE!"
She turned slightly away, scooting her hips, leaning to the side, and pulling the book closer to her face. She started the paragraph about canals in Central America again, adjusting her thinking so that sound was filtered out.
Several pages later Kyle patted her shoulder rapidly. "Look! Temper, look-look-look!" He pointed while waving a hand between her face and the book.
She looked up.
"Ha! Gotcha!"
"Kyle, I'm reading my homework. Don't you have homework to do?"
"I don't do homework. Anyway, it was all dumb."
She set the book in her lap, frowning. "Is the work difficult for you?" She paused. Then, though she felt a shudder at the thought, continued "I could help you if you like."
"What? You think I'm STUPID?" Kyle shouted. "Just because you're some kind of freaking GENIUS you think that I need your help?"
"I didn't say that--"
"MOM!" Kyle ran out of the room. "Temper-Temper said I was stupid!"
Mrs. Martin appeared, a crease folding her forehead. Even Temperance could see her concern. "Temperance, were you making fun of Kyle?"
"No, ma'am," Temperance shook her head. "I'm doing my homework and he was interrupting me, so I offered to help him with his."
Mrs. Martin looked at her, still frowning, then said, "Temperance, I want you to come here, please. Kyle, go ahead and watch your cartoon."
When they reached the laundry room off the kitchen, Mrs. Martin closed the door. There was a long silence, and Temperance looked at her feet. She hated being in trouble--the way her stomach moved too freely, the way she could feel her face hot and red, how she couldn't stop chewing her lip. She was sure she looked guilty of whatever it was Mrs. Martin was sure she'd done.
"Temperance, you're new here, and you don't know Kyle very well." The woman reached to touch her arm, but Temperance stepped back, and Mrs. Martin let her hand fall. "Kyle has always had a very hard time in school. His learning disabilities just add to his emotional and behavioral problems. I think it's even worse for him that you do so very well." Mrs. Martin's smile looked somewhat apologetic.
Temperance had no idea what to say. Should she apologize? She couldn't offer to do poorly in school. She had no idea how to pretend the work was hard.
"You've got to understand," Mrs. Martin continued quickly. "Kyle's been working really, really hard. He has. He's doing so much better than a couple of years ago. He's having some small successes. It's better than he's ever done." Here she nodded, smiling. "But he's not stupid. You have to know that and remember that. It's just...when he sees you, I think it hurts him and he feels even more stupid than he already does. He's just very frustrated and..." Mrs. Martin cringed. "Well...I think it would probably be easier for him if you always did your schoolwork in your room like you have been. Do you think you could do that?"
Temperance could feel a piece of dry skin peeling off between her teeth and she wrapped her fingers around each other. "Yes, ma'am," she whispered.
"Thank you," Mrs. Martin said, and reached for her again.
Temperance evaded Mrs. Martin's touch then said, "I was only down here today because I need to watch a NASA report. It's on the MacNeil-Lehrer News Hour. My physics teacher asked us to. I was afraid I wouldn't get a turn on the TV. That's why I was downstairs."
"Well, that's fine, of course. We are really proud of how well you're doing in this new school."
At that Temperance did look into Mrs. Martin's eyes. Why would she be proud? Foster parents were paid to provide food and shelter, not to care about their ward’s well-being. Pride was an emotional response and required a connection that didn't exist in their relationship.
"It helps us so much that you set a good example for Kyle. I think he'll take to you after a while. Just ignore his behavior. If he doesn't get a reaction, he'll stop."
She frowned, off her guard, and Mrs. Martin got a hand on her arm and rubbed it twice. She flinched away, mumbling another "yes, ma'am," as she went back to the couch.
Through the rest of her AP History chapter, Kyle poked her arm, looked over her shoulder and read words aloud, and bumped into her when he laughed at the cartoon. Temperance just pulled farther back against the arm of the sofa and turned the book away from his view. She wrote a practice essay timed to the length of the following cartoon.
Kyle grabbed the paper during a commercial and yanked it away, causing a long pen mark across the page.
"Stop! That's my homework!"
"Are you getting mad yet? Am I bothering you yet?"
She curled her feet up under her, trying to make space between her and Kyle, and finished the essay. She tucked it carefully into her folder, placing that on the end table away from him. She did her Calculus and Physics problems through the next program, reminding Kyle of her reserved time.
"Do people tell you two or three times a day that you're ugly?" He poked at her cheek. "I'm surprised I haven't turned to stone yet."
"Don't touch me," she growled.
"Don't touch me, don't touch me," he sing-songed back.
"Don't you have a show to watch?"
"Don't you have a show to watch?"
She knew this game and had never won it with Russ or the kids at her old school, so she stopped speaking and just focused on the problems on the page. The clock gave her twenty-five minutes until the broadcast.
At five till six, she said, "Kyle, I need to watch something for school. Please turn to channel 11."
"And who's going to make me?"
"Kyle, give me the remote. I have homework to do."
"That's all you do, little prissy two-shoes. You think you're so smart."
"I am so smart," she replied. "And I have physics work to do." She grabbed at the remote and tugged.
"Oh, are you getting mad now? Temper, Temper, do you have a temper?"
"Give it to me!" she demanded, feeling her cheeks flame again--or still--with the sting of the past two hours of slights. She pried his fingers away from the remote and yanked it out of his hands. "Give it to me and leave me alone, you little brat!"
"Temperance!" Mr. Martin was standing behind them, eyes dark. "Temperance, name-calling is unacceptable in this household. You should know better. We expect you to set an example of positive behavior for Kyle."
"But, Mr. Martin--"
"No, buts, young lady. You are going to spend the evening in your room to reflect on how this kind of behavior is hurtful to others. Mrs. Martin will bring you a minimal dinner, but you will not leave except to use the restroom. And if I ever catch you speaking like that to anyone in this house again, you will lose a great many more privileges. Do I make myself clear?"
Temperance felt a huge pressure in her chest and throat, a combination of indignation, shame, and mortification that he would think this of her. Tears threatened, and she blinked them back as she whispered, "Yes, sir. But--"
"I said no buts."
"May I please watch this report for my homework?"
"Report?"
"Yes, sir. NASA has new images of Jupiter from the Hubble Space Telescope and measurements that demonstrate the flow of subatomic particles in the immense gravitational and magnetic field of the planet. We just did gravitational fields in physics and--"
"See?" Kyle pointed at her, his finger almost touching her. "See? She does this all the time just to show off!"
"Kyle, I don't think she's doing it on purpose," Mr. Martin soothed.
"Yes, she is! She's been making fun of me since we got home, telling me I'm stupid and rubbing my face in it about how great she is."
"I have n--"
"Just watch your report, Temperance. Then go to your room. I don't want to see you lose your temper with Kyle like this again. Come on, kiddo. Tell me about your day while we set the table." He put an arm around Kyle's shoulders.
Temperance held the remote in a death-grip and pressed the buttons to change the channel and adjust the volume. She took notes on auroral activity at Jupiter's poles and the data about how the UV and infrared aurorae were impossible to study through the filter of Earth's atmosphere. As soon as they moved to another topic she fled to her room, where she wrote up her notes with references to the book's analogy of space as a rubber sheet and the bending of light and particles along the gravity well.
Mrs. Martin didn't speak to her when she brought in food, and Temperance felt ashamed and guilty, avoided making eye contact, then ate quickly and went to bed.
She fell asleep curled into a tight ball, clutching a sweater that had been her mother's.
***
Chapter 5
Posting Schedule: This story has 2630 parts, which will post here and at ff.net on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
Author's Notes
Thanks upon thanks to my wonderful betas and sounding boards: jsq, bluemorpho, and havocthecat. HUGE and effusive gratitude to my line-editor and prodder to make this story as good as I could at this time, as well as encouragement and sounding board services while I planned and wrote for two years to Ayiana.
You can look up what the Hubble found out about Jupiter on the pass through in early 1992.
Kyle is singing (incorrectly) the theme song from Tiny Toons.
Spoilers: Story ends pre-series, but contains spoilers for all episodes that deal with Brennan's childhood and history. My notes and extrapolations on Brennan's background can be found at at my Temperance Brennan Timeline.
Feedback is welcome. :-)