dr_temperance (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dr_temperance) wrote2008-10-28 07:34 pm
dr_temperance) wrote2008-10-28 07:34 pm
Post-Wannabe In The Weeds
Brennan finds herself preoccupied with numbers.
Sometimes it’s just easier to think in terms of numbers.
In the year 2007 the number of law enforcement officers feloniously killed in the line of duty was 57. The 57 deaths occurred in 51 separate incidents across 25 different states. Among the officers killed, the average age was 37. The officers had served in law enforcement for an average of 10 years. Of the 57 officers, all 57 were male; 47 were white.
It seems wrong that Booth should be boiled down to a statistic.
Brennan knows that some might argue the accuracy of the statement that Booth had been killed in the line of duty. Technically he had been off-duty. Having a fun night out with his friends.
If stepping in front of a bullet to keep it from hitting your partner doesn’t constitute ‘in the line of duty’ Brennan doesn’t know what does.
4:08 AM was the time at which the surgeon had come out to tell the room full of waiting Squints that Booth had been pronounced dead at 3:56.
There were 6 people that Brennan could think of off-hand who were not present at the hospital and would need to be informed of the news. The first 5—Booth’s mother and father, his brother, and his son and Rebecca--she knew that Booth’s superiors would take responsibility for contacting.
That left the 6th. And though she knew the number without even having to open her cell phone directory, Brennan didn’t dial it. At 4:31 AM she left the hospital and drove the 23 minutes to Hannah’s dorm at GW (the odd hour made for light traffic and allowed her to maintain an average speed of 52 miles per hour).
The night guard at Hannah’s dorm had taken one look at Brennan and immediately admitted her when she said she was there regarding a personal emergency. She didn’t know what he had seen that made him move so quickly, but she was, in a detached fashion, grateful for his efficiency. She rides the silent elevator up to the 3rd floor, walks the 17 paces to the door of 14C and knocks 3 times on the door.
And then 3 times again.
Sometimes it’s just easier to think in terms of numbers.
In the year 2007 the number of law enforcement officers feloniously killed in the line of duty was 57. The 57 deaths occurred in 51 separate incidents across 25 different states. Among the officers killed, the average age was 37. The officers had served in law enforcement for an average of 10 years. Of the 57 officers, all 57 were male; 47 were white.
It seems wrong that Booth should be boiled down to a statistic.
Brennan knows that some might argue the accuracy of the statement that Booth had been killed in the line of duty. Technically he had been off-duty. Having a fun night out with his friends.
If stepping in front of a bullet to keep it from hitting your partner doesn’t constitute ‘in the line of duty’ Brennan doesn’t know what does.
4:08 AM was the time at which the surgeon had come out to tell the room full of waiting Squints that Booth had been pronounced dead at 3:56.
There were 6 people that Brennan could think of off-hand who were not present at the hospital and would need to be informed of the news. The first 5—Booth’s mother and father, his brother, and his son and Rebecca--she knew that Booth’s superiors would take responsibility for contacting.
That left the 6th. And though she knew the number without even having to open her cell phone directory, Brennan didn’t dial it. At 4:31 AM she left the hospital and drove the 23 minutes to Hannah’s dorm at GW (the odd hour made for light traffic and allowed her to maintain an average speed of 52 miles per hour).
The night guard at Hannah’s dorm had taken one look at Brennan and immediately admitted her when she said she was there regarding a personal emergency. She didn’t know what he had seen that made him move so quickly, but she was, in a detached fashion, grateful for his efficiency. She rides the silent elevator up to the 3rd floor, walks the 17 paces to the door of 14C and knocks 3 times on the door.
And then 3 times again.
no subject
She is confused by the second part of the offer. Until she follows Hannah's gaze to the blood on the cuffs of her sleeves.
Of course. She had been applying pressure to the wound. And Booth had bled quite heavily. Naturally she would have gotten blood on her shirt.
The queasiness is back.
"Yes. I would like that. Thank you."
no subject
"Did you want to take a shower or just . . .?
"I can get whatever, um, either way."
no subject
Brennan's not sure she has the energy for a shower right now.
"Thank you, Hannah."
Later she may very well feel guilty for putting this kind of burden on Hannah. For now--in the part of her mind that's still capable of processing emotion--she's just grateful for her help.
no subject
Hannah nods and stands, pointing to a door just visible across the hall from the commonroom.
"The bathroom is over there -- anything in the green shower bucket thing is mine, help yourself, and I'll get you a sweatshirt or something."
no subject
"Thank you."
Brennan pushes herself to her feet. It takes more effort than it seems like it should.
Unbidden, as it always does, and as it has for over two years now, Booth's voice speaks up in the back of her head.
Geez, Bones. Comfort the kid for crying out loud. This is a shock for her too. You don't just lay that on someone and not offer a shoulder. Come on.
Brennan straightens up. And there's a little more life in her eyes when she looks at Hannah this time.
"It's going to be all right, Hannah. It is. We'll get through this."
They will. Because maybe if that part of Booth is still there, everything will be okay after a while.
no subject
"Yeah," she says.
At least she doesn't have to worry about Agent Booth being in Hell. Because there's no chance of that, not that Hannah can see.
"I'll be right back."
no subject
"Okay."
She follows Hannah's direction to the bathroom where she uses what it probably an excessive amount of soap, and stands holding her wrists under a cold running tap for a minute or two.
Physically, she's feeling better when she returns to the common room. Though with the nausea at bay, exhaustion is beginning to come to the forefront.
no subject
"I thought you'd want something to put your . . . laundry in."
The shirt's probably a total loss, and even if it can be cleaned, how would you ever wear it again?
no subject
The shirt will go straight into the trash once she's home, but it has to be contained somehow in the meantime.
Brennan disappears briefly back into the bathroom, but it takes only a minute to change.
"I can rest on the sofa," she offers. "I know you don't have a lot of space in your room."
She knows. She had helped with the unpacking and setting up.
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"It's probably not a good time to be in the common room, you know?"
Brennan can have her bed.
It's not like Hannah's going to be getting back to sleep.
And if it wakes Hilary up, well, it wakes Hilary up.
no subject
It seems deserted at the moment, but she's willing to take Hannah's word for it.
no subject
And there's something to be said for privacy and some control of access.
no subject
"Yes. Yes, of course."
"It must be nearly morning."
no subject
"You should sleep.
"Come on."
no subject
Brennan follows Hannah.
She is under no illusion that things will be better after she wakes up. If anything, they are likely to be worse for the lack of numbness brought on by exhaustion.
But physically she'll suffer more for not sleeping. And she'll need whatever fortitude she can muster for the coming days.
no subject
But she gets Brennan settled, waits until she's asleep, leaves water and aspirin and apple juice on the table beside the bed, calls Angela's cell phone and Dr. Sayoran's office the Jeffersonian and leaves messages so people will know where Brennan is and that she's all right, for a given definition of all right.
And then she goes back to the common room, and sits down in the floor with her back against the wall over in the corner where she can't be seen from the door, with her arms wrapped around her knees.
And that's where she is when Hilary finds her, an hour and a half later. And Hilary just manages to get the very sparest of details out of her roommate before Hannah finally, and utterly, breaks down.