Bones Fic: Sorrow & The Sea
Title: Sorrow & the Sea
Disclaimer: Bones belongs to FOX, Hanson and Reichs
Rating: T
Spoilers: 622, but I'm spoiler free!
A/N: The "obligatory" The Hole in the Heart episode tag.
rachg82 and I tried (and succeeded!) to identify a poem with the sea a while back, the waves stayed with me.
oOoOoOo
Grief is like the sea. Waves washing over you and pulling you down, yet a translucent, intangible softness that slips between your fingers.
But they are not there yet. Their now is sorrow, anger and confusion. Trying to understand what is too unfathomable to make sense of.
Grief will come later. When the loss is part of the fabric of their lives.
Her now is the dark expanse of Booth's living room and the unfamiliar sounds of the old building at night.
Don't make me leave echoes in the silence. Is that what she does? Is she the one who makes people leave?
She knows she has nothing to do with bank robberies, accomplices turning to killers or older brothers breaking under the responsibility. Yet she needs his solid reassurance.
The wood of his bedroom door is smooth against he fingertips. The slightest of pushes and it opens.
His reaction reminds her of his own present. A now where a movement at the corner of his eye could be death in the shape of as bullet.
Death may come again before this is over but their now is the softness of skin, whispers of fabric and the solid anchor of their touch. Fingers that create ripples that will turn into a smile in answer to Angela's question.
Disclaimer: Bones belongs to FOX, Hanson and Reichs
Rating: T
Spoilers: 622, but I'm spoiler free!
A/N: The "obligatory" The Hole in the Heart episode tag.
rachg82 and I tried (and succeeded!) to identify a poem with the sea a while back, the waves stayed with me.
oOoOoOo
Grief is like the sea. Waves washing over you and pulling you down, yet a translucent, intangible softness that slips between your fingers.
But they are not there yet. Their now is sorrow, anger and confusion. Trying to understand what is too unfathomable to make sense of.
Grief will come later. When the loss is part of the fabric of their lives.
Her now is the dark expanse of Booth's living room and the unfamiliar sounds of the old building at night.
Don't make me leave echoes in the silence. Is that what she does? Is she the one who makes people leave?
She knows she has nothing to do with bank robberies, accomplices turning to killers or older brothers breaking under the responsibility. Yet she needs his solid reassurance.
The wood of his bedroom door is smooth against he fingertips. The slightest of pushes and it opens.
His reaction reminds her of his own present. A now where a movement at the corner of his eye could be death in the shape of as bullet.
Death may come again before this is over but their now is the softness of skin, whispers of fabric and the solid anchor of their touch. Fingers that create ripples that will turn into a smile in answer to Angela's question.