Fic: Bones: In the Trenches, Part 25/30
Chapter 25: Transfer of Post
Author: amilyn
Rating: PG-13 (themes, abuse)
Chapter 24
Chapter 25: Transfer of Post
***
~September 1994~
The Northwestern University campus teemed with freshmen, most carrying schedules and maps.
"Excuse me, could you help me?"
Temperance stopped, squinting into the sun. Looking down, she saw a young woman.
"I'm looking for the Life-Science Pavilion, but even with the map--" the woman pointed to her lap "--all these buildings look alike."
"I'm going right past there. Follow me." Temperance cringed at her own commanding tone, but the young woman smiled.
"That sounds great. I'm Heather Clutts. Ironic, huh?" She grinned, offering a hand between pushes against the canted wheels of her chair.
Temperance frowned. "I don't see why."
Heather looked her up and down and grinned. "I like you."
"Temperance Brennan." Their hands barely met before Heather pulled her hand away to give her chair another push forward.
"So, what class do you have?"
"Human Anatomy."
Heather glanced at Temperance, and her thick, blond braid slipped over one shoulder and brushed the top of the low-cut back rest. "Ah, an upperclassman."
"Not really," Temperance said.
"That sounds confusing," Heather laughed.
"Human Anatomy is an upper-level class. But this is my first year; I tested out of a great many introductory classes."
"Way to go." Heather sounded impressed. "I got credit from a couple of Advanced Placement tests, but my high school didn't offer many of those. I'm from Minneapolis," she volunteered. "Well, an outer suburb. I'm hoping for less snow to get my wheels stuck in."
"I don't know that you'll find that to be the case. I've shoveled snow every year since I was almost as tall as the shovel."
Heather laughed again. It was a cheerful, honest sound. "It's been so hot since I got here, I can't even imagine snow."
Temperance stopped. "Here you are. I'm heading to the Technological Institute over there." She pointed northwest. "Have a good class. If you're on the far side of the building and up high enough, you might be able to see the lake. It was beautiful this morning when I was running."
"Hey, you run?"
"Yeah."
Brown eyes sparkling, Heather's ready smile grew wider. "Awesome! Me too."
Temperance frowned, not sure what her response should be.
"What's your favorite distance?" Heather asked.
"I usually prefer four to six miles."
"That's my usual. I haven't had a chance to establish a pattern here, though. Would you like to be running buddies?"
Temperance shuddered. "I haven't run with a partner for a long time."
"All right." Heather looked away.
That's disappointment, Temperance thought. She should know. "It's not that I don't want to..." She shook off memories of running with Claire, told herself this had the potential to be pleasant.
"It's not like I'm going to run over you or anything, you know."
"I didn't think you were. I'm amenable to the idea, but I always run in the early morning. Would that work for you?" She wasn't sure if she was apprehensive or hopeful. The slight increase in heart rate that accompanied both emotions was so similar, it was hard to tell. Anyway, hope so rarely paid off that she always felt uncomfortable with it.
Heather's bright smile returned. "It's my favorite time to work out. Are you in campus email?"
Temperance nodded. "I've got to get to class." She pointed away from the building.
"Awesome. Temperance Brennan, right? B-R-E-N-N-A-N?"
Temperance nodded again.
"Okay. I'll send you email later for address and phone. It was good to meet you." She waved.
Temperance jogged to her class and settled into a front seat just before the professor introduced himself. She began taking notes, but she was distracted for a few minutes. A friend. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do, and she wondered how long it would be before Heather was done with her.
***
~January 1995~
"Hey, you got here before me!" Tracy's voice preceded her into the small room.
Temperance looked up from her textbook and reminded herself to smile. She even waved. Mrs. Dougherty would have been so pleased.
"How was your break?" Tracy asked over her shoulder as she dropped bags, pillows, and a huge stuffed cat on her bed.
"It was fine," Temperance said.
"Mine was awesome. Wait till you see what I got for Christmas! What did you get?" Tracy frowned, looking around the dorm room. "Where did you go over break?"
"Nowhere special." Temperance was not going to tell her North Shore roommate--or maybe anyone--about eating at the Evanston soup kitchen while the cafeteria was closed.
"But you saw your family, right?"
"Not this year."
Tracy gaped. "But, what did you do?"
With Heather in Minnesota for the break, she had run eight miles each morning and at least five every evening. She pointed to her book. "I studied."
"Where do you want this stuff, Trace?" An older man rounded the corner with three large suitcases in tow. "Hi, Temperance. How are you?"
"I'm fine, Mr. Clark. How were your holidays?"
"Fine. Trace, take this," he said, holding out a plastic bag.
"Oh! We went to Mackinac Island and stayed at the Grand Hotel--the one from Somewhere in Time?--it's, like, my mother's favorite movie. She thinks Christopher Reeve is totally hot." Tracy leaned closer and said, more quietly, "Of course, he is. but I'd never admit that to Mom." She started putting her clothes away. "Anyway, it was amazing. We had to dress for dinner and everything. It was extra warm, so we biked all over the island. Cars aren't even allowed. Oh, and we went on a cruise on the lake. And Mom and I had facials and manicures together."
Temperance's cheeks ached, and the longer Tracy talked, the more the ache expanded through her chest and belly. She'd denied all through the Christmas season that it hurt. It was a waste of energy to grieve, and, anyway, it had been three years. The past was done. Over. Grieving was a pointless waste of energy.
None of that had stopped her from calling Officer Zukowski for her now-yearly query about whether there'd been any leads, or if anyone was following up on her parents' case.
He'd explained that a missing persons case this old with no new leads was a dead case. It hadn't been closed, but no one was looking, and nobody would unless new evidence turned up. She'd run twelve miles that night--all the way to the Field Museum and back--and not gotten home till she was nearly locked out of the dorm.
"Here!" Tracy bounced over. "We brought you a present." She held out a little bundle with tissue paper wrapped around it and tied with curled ribbon.
"What is it?"
"Open it, silly!" Tracy said eagerly.
Temperance felt it. It was hard, but had a slight give. It was about the size of her palm, with uneven borders. She sniffed, but couldn't detect anything but the chemicals on the paper.
"Oh, you! I can't stand it. It's Mackinac Island fudge. We got you the turtle flavor!" Tracy beamed. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were pink.
When she'd had a family, Russ had insisted on the lights that blinked every year.
Matt and Temperance had always gone through each string to find the burned out bulbs. Once the lights were on the tree, the four of them had decorated together.
Matt had hung mistletoe every year and always acted surprised when he found himself under it with his wife. When he'd kissed Christine, her cheeks turned pink, and when they'd looked back at the kids they were always smiling like they were kids themselves.
That had always been Christine's cue to bring out the box of Fannie Mae turtles and Frango mints, and Matt would make eggnog for them all, waving off Christine's reminder to go easy on the rum.
They'd enjoyed the treats while curled up on the sofa and floor to watch "How the Grinch Stole Christmas."
Temperance remembered the last year she had a family. As the Grinch's heart "grew three sizes," she'd turned to see her mother's head on her father's shoulder. Matt had kissed Christine on the head, and they'd both smiled and blown kisses at her, just because she was their daughter and they loved her.
Christine Brennan's eyes had sparkled with the reflection of Christmas tree lights.
"Are you going to try any?"
A hand waved in front of her eyes.
"Temperance?" Tracy was frowning.
The only Christmas lights this year had been in store windows and the Student Union.
The only mothers had been other people's.
That was how it would always be now, forever.
Loneliness filled her up and flowed over. Her parents were never coming back.
Before she even thought, she was moving down the hallway.
Behind her, Tracy said, "See? I told you she was rude! I can't take much more of this."
She couldn't bring herself to care if Tracy was uncomfortable. Tracy had never been truly uncomfortable in her life, and she didn't even know it.
She only had to deal with Tracy until June. After the winter and spring quarters ended, Temperance would move to a single room. Then she'd be as alone in fact as she felt even when surrounded by people.
***
Chapter 26
***
Posting Schedule: This story has 30 parts, which will post here and at ff.net on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays.
Author's Notes
Thanks upon thanks to my wonderful betas and sounding boards: jennasq, b1uemorpho, 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 Ayiana2.
Feedback is most assuredly welcome.
***
Author: amilyn
Rating: PG-13 (themes, abuse)
Chapter 24
Chapter 25: Transfer of Post
***
~September 1994~
The Northwestern University campus teemed with freshmen, most carrying schedules and maps.
"Excuse me, could you help me?"
Temperance stopped, squinting into the sun. Looking down, she saw a young woman.
"I'm looking for the Life-Science Pavilion, but even with the map--" the woman pointed to her lap "--all these buildings look alike."
"I'm going right past there. Follow me." Temperance cringed at her own commanding tone, but the young woman smiled.
"That sounds great. I'm Heather Clutts. Ironic, huh?" She grinned, offering a hand between pushes against the canted wheels of her chair.
Temperance frowned. "I don't see why."
Heather looked her up and down and grinned. "I like you."
"Temperance Brennan." Their hands barely met before Heather pulled her hand away to give her chair another push forward.
"So, what class do you have?"
"Human Anatomy."
Heather glanced at Temperance, and her thick, blond braid slipped over one shoulder and brushed the top of the low-cut back rest. "Ah, an upperclassman."
"Not really," Temperance said.
"That sounds confusing," Heather laughed.
"Human Anatomy is an upper-level class. But this is my first year; I tested out of a great many introductory classes."
"Way to go." Heather sounded impressed. "I got credit from a couple of Advanced Placement tests, but my high school didn't offer many of those. I'm from Minneapolis," she volunteered. "Well, an outer suburb. I'm hoping for less snow to get my wheels stuck in."
"I don't know that you'll find that to be the case. I've shoveled snow every year since I was almost as tall as the shovel."
Heather laughed again. It was a cheerful, honest sound. "It's been so hot since I got here, I can't even imagine snow."
Temperance stopped. "Here you are. I'm heading to the Technological Institute over there." She pointed northwest. "Have a good class. If you're on the far side of the building and up high enough, you might be able to see the lake. It was beautiful this morning when I was running."
"Hey, you run?"
"Yeah."
Brown eyes sparkling, Heather's ready smile grew wider. "Awesome! Me too."
Temperance frowned, not sure what her response should be.
"What's your favorite distance?" Heather asked.
"I usually prefer four to six miles."
"That's my usual. I haven't had a chance to establish a pattern here, though. Would you like to be running buddies?"
Temperance shuddered. "I haven't run with a partner for a long time."
"All right." Heather looked away.
That's disappointment, Temperance thought. She should know. "It's not that I don't want to..." She shook off memories of running with Claire, told herself this had the potential to be pleasant.
"It's not like I'm going to run over you or anything, you know."
"I didn't think you were. I'm amenable to the idea, but I always run in the early morning. Would that work for you?" She wasn't sure if she was apprehensive or hopeful. The slight increase in heart rate that accompanied both emotions was so similar, it was hard to tell. Anyway, hope so rarely paid off that she always felt uncomfortable with it.
Heather's bright smile returned. "It's my favorite time to work out. Are you in campus email?"
Temperance nodded. "I've got to get to class." She pointed away from the building.
"Awesome. Temperance Brennan, right? B-R-E-N-N-A-N?"
Temperance nodded again.
"Okay. I'll send you email later for address and phone. It was good to meet you." She waved.
Temperance jogged to her class and settled into a front seat just before the professor introduced himself. She began taking notes, but she was distracted for a few minutes. A friend. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do, and she wondered how long it would be before Heather was done with her.
***
~January 1995~
"Hey, you got here before me!" Tracy's voice preceded her into the small room.
Temperance looked up from her textbook and reminded herself to smile. She even waved. Mrs. Dougherty would have been so pleased.
"How was your break?" Tracy asked over her shoulder as she dropped bags, pillows, and a huge stuffed cat on her bed.
"It was fine," Temperance said.
"Mine was awesome. Wait till you see what I got for Christmas! What did you get?" Tracy frowned, looking around the dorm room. "Where did you go over break?"
"Nowhere special." Temperance was not going to tell her North Shore roommate--or maybe anyone--about eating at the Evanston soup kitchen while the cafeteria was closed.
"But you saw your family, right?"
"Not this year."
Tracy gaped. "But, what did you do?"
With Heather in Minnesota for the break, she had run eight miles each morning and at least five every evening. She pointed to her book. "I studied."
"Where do you want this stuff, Trace?" An older man rounded the corner with three large suitcases in tow. "Hi, Temperance. How are you?"
"I'm fine, Mr. Clark. How were your holidays?"
"Fine. Trace, take this," he said, holding out a plastic bag.
"Oh! We went to Mackinac Island and stayed at the Grand Hotel--the one from Somewhere in Time?--it's, like, my mother's favorite movie. She thinks Christopher Reeve is totally hot." Tracy leaned closer and said, more quietly, "Of course, he is. but I'd never admit that to Mom." She started putting her clothes away. "Anyway, it was amazing. We had to dress for dinner and everything. It was extra warm, so we biked all over the island. Cars aren't even allowed. Oh, and we went on a cruise on the lake. And Mom and I had facials and manicures together."
Temperance's cheeks ached, and the longer Tracy talked, the more the ache expanded through her chest and belly. She'd denied all through the Christmas season that it hurt. It was a waste of energy to grieve, and, anyway, it had been three years. The past was done. Over. Grieving was a pointless waste of energy.
None of that had stopped her from calling Officer Zukowski for her now-yearly query about whether there'd been any leads, or if anyone was following up on her parents' case.
He'd explained that a missing persons case this old with no new leads was a dead case. It hadn't been closed, but no one was looking, and nobody would unless new evidence turned up. She'd run twelve miles that night--all the way to the Field Museum and back--and not gotten home till she was nearly locked out of the dorm.
"Here!" Tracy bounced over. "We brought you a present." She held out a little bundle with tissue paper wrapped around it and tied with curled ribbon.
"What is it?"
"Open it, silly!" Tracy said eagerly.
Temperance felt it. It was hard, but had a slight give. It was about the size of her palm, with uneven borders. She sniffed, but couldn't detect anything but the chemicals on the paper.
"Oh, you! I can't stand it. It's Mackinac Island fudge. We got you the turtle flavor!" Tracy beamed. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were pink.
When she'd had a family, Russ had insisted on the lights that blinked every year.
Matt and Temperance had always gone through each string to find the burned out bulbs. Once the lights were on the tree, the four of them had decorated together.
Matt had hung mistletoe every year and always acted surprised when he found himself under it with his wife. When he'd kissed Christine, her cheeks turned pink, and when they'd looked back at the kids they were always smiling like they were kids themselves.
That had always been Christine's cue to bring out the box of Fannie Mae turtles and Frango mints, and Matt would make eggnog for them all, waving off Christine's reminder to go easy on the rum.
They'd enjoyed the treats while curled up on the sofa and floor to watch "How the Grinch Stole Christmas."
Temperance remembered the last year she had a family. As the Grinch's heart "grew three sizes," she'd turned to see her mother's head on her father's shoulder. Matt had kissed Christine on the head, and they'd both smiled and blown kisses at her, just because she was their daughter and they loved her.
Christine Brennan's eyes had sparkled with the reflection of Christmas tree lights.
"Are you going to try any?"
A hand waved in front of her eyes.
"Temperance?" Tracy was frowning.
The only Christmas lights this year had been in store windows and the Student Union.
The only mothers had been other people's.
That was how it would always be now, forever.
Loneliness filled her up and flowed over. Her parents were never coming back.
Before she even thought, she was moving down the hallway.
Behind her, Tracy said, "See? I told you she was rude! I can't take much more of this."
She couldn't bring herself to care if Tracy was uncomfortable. Tracy had never been truly uncomfortable in her life, and she didn't even know it.
She only had to deal with Tracy until June. After the winter and spring quarters ended, Temperance would move to a single room. Then she'd be as alone in fact as she felt even when surrounded by people.
***
Chapter 26
***
Posting Schedule: This story has 30 parts, which will post here and at ff.net on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays.
Author's Notes
Thanks upon thanks to my wonderful betas and sounding boards: jennasq, b1uemorpho, 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 Ayiana2.
Feedback is most assuredly welcome.
***