dr_temperance | (no subject)

(no subject)

Brennan is spending a lot more time in her office these days. It used to be she was always either out on the platform or in one of the labs or workrooms. But this was more peaceful.

It keeps her and the investigators out of each others way, and that makes Cam marginally less anxious.

Brennan scrolls down on her computer screen, to the second paragraph on the fourth page of the article on occupational stress markers she's drafting. She wants to get this, and an additional article about early twentieth century ballistics in good shape before she leaves for Peru.

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Angela sitcks her head in the door.

"Hey, Bren? Do you have a minute?"

Brennan looks up from her monitor.

"Sure, Angela."

She sits back in her chair, swiveling a little bit to face the doorway.

"Come on in."

Angela comes in, after a moment's hesitation, and sits in the chair opposite Brennan's desk.

"How are you?

Stalling.

It's a perfectly legitimate approach.

"I'm okay," Brennan replies warily.

She hardly thinks that Angela would have made a special stop by her office just to ask her that.

"Is everything all right?"

"Um, yeah. Everything's . . ."

Angela stops, and sighs.

This is awkward.

"Do you know where Hodgins went?"

"Um....no."

Why would Angela be asking her that, of all things.

Why wouldn't Angela know?

"Cam said something about him taking some leave this week."

"You mean you don't know where he is?"

That's...unexpected.

Angela sighs again.

"He left a note. And I spoke to him really briefly when he was Dulles. Something came up, he doesn't have time to explain it, he'll call when he can, he'll be back Friday or Saturday. And that's all I know."

Angela's tired.

She didn't get much sleep last night.

"That's very strange behavior."

It's only conjecture, to be sure, but Brennan is willing to bet that ordinarily there's not much that Hodgins and Angela don't tell each other. Especially if it involves an impromptu trip by plane.

"Have you tried calling him?"

"Goes straight to voicemail."

There's a very long pause.

"I don't think he's doing well, Bren."

Brennan frowns.

"Mentally and emotionally?"

This is not the first time they've had cause to discuss Hodgins's mental state in the wake of the Gormogon case.

Brennan has thus far been inclined to think that Hodgins is merely working through the pain and confusion and will swing back toward equilibrium.

But the laws of physics are difficult to apply to human feelings. And it would seem that his erratic behavior is escalating.

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"Sort of," Angela says.

"It's just . . . it's never about Zach, it's always about . . . who was late, and the sink broken, and my lawyer called, and . . ."

Angela shrugs.

"I don't know, Bren."

Brennan shifts a little in her chair, thinking.

"You know that I say this as someone who has little knowledge of and less regard for psychology." Not like that's some carefully guarded secret. "But is there any chance that it is just about being late, or a broken sink, or some business his lawyers want him to take care of?"

Brennan kind of doubts it. She still doesn't have much use for psychology, but she has a slightly better handle on it now, for better or for worse.

"The sink was in Zach's apartment."

So . . . that'd be a "no."

"Okay."

The 'no' is clear.

And if Angela says the answer is 'no,' then Brennan is willing to believe her.

"Perhaps we can talk to Cam. Maybe she can pull some strings, or use subterfuge, to send him to a counselor."

They've all had to talk to them as part of the investigation. It wouldn't be that difficult to recommend a follow-up.

"I . . . no. No, this is more I need to talk to my best friend than I want to involve my boss.

"Besides, I don't think subterfuge is a good idea.

"I just . . . I keep waiting for it to start to get better. And then he goes off somewhere and doesn't tell me where. Or why."

Brennan nods.

"Okay."

She thinks, idly and almost imperceptibly, twisting her desk chair back and forth.

Unfortunately she's not coming up with much. Brennan's usual approach to problems is How can I help solve it. But, failing in that, all she can do is offer emotional support.

"I'm sorry, Ange."

The problem, really, is that this is kind of an unsolveable problem. There's nothing you can do, nothing you can fix, to make it get better any faster. You just have to ride it out.

"Thanks.

"It will get better. For all of us. It's just . . . still a really raw wound."

"Yeah," Brennan agrees quietly.

"You'll tell me if there's anything I can to do help you?

"Because I want to help. If I can."

"I will," Angela says.

"And if he calls you, for any reason, got me, let me know.

"Please."

"Of course."

Brennan can't think of a reason Hodgins might be calling her, but if he does, Angela will be the first to know.

"Do you....do you want to come over to my place tonight? If you want company."

The only thing worse than being caught in an emotional whirlpool is being caught in it and feeling alone.

Angela starts to say that no, she's fine, that's not necessary, she knows Brennan is busy with plans for Peru and all . . .

And then just nods.

"Yeah. That'd be . . . thank you."

Brennan smiles.

"We'll order in something interesting for dinner, and I think Dad rented movies."

Brennan has given in on owning a television since Max has taken up residence with her.

And while her father may have possession of the guest room, the sleeper sofa is still in place and very comfortable.

Just in case.

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