Chapter 34: Wading Through

May 22nd, 2011

The past few days had been tense. If Hodgins had been expecting things to get better because she was alive... well, he'd been wrong.

He tried to ignore the fact that Angela was zoning out on him, but it was becoming more and more apparent with every passing day. It was better than when Brennan had been dead, yes, but it still hurt to see that there lives were so affected, and that things weren't improving.

Ange spent all her time worrying. Through the past year, it had been worries about the future, worries about Booth, worries about their happiness, worries about finding justice, worries about being a good friend even though Brennan was gone...

And now she was worrying about Brennan still. Worrying about her getting back to work, worrying about her relationship with Booth, worrying about her staying safe and alive.

Through it all, he tried to stay supportive. He was as much Brennan's friend as any of them, and he had grown closer to her through the years. It would have been impossible not to, with the Gravedigger and then the fact that he'd fallen in love with her best friend. The fact that Brennan had approved of their relationship had been key, and while Angela would probably never admit it, he knew it for a fact.

So he'd been as happy and relieved as the rest of them when the news had come crashing down that she was alive. If it had come from anyone but Angela, while they all gathered together in that hospital lobby, he wouldn't have dared to believe it. But he had, and when they had finally all seen her with their own eyes, the reality had only further settled in.

But while Angela had practically collapsed with joy, and had been all over making sure Brennan was okay, that everything was okay, Hodgins had sat back and observed the damage.

Sure, she was alive. Which meant that now there wouldn't be any more grieving, any more conversations about loss and loneliness late at night. And it meant that maybe Angela might be ready to start a family.

Despite all that, though, he couldn't help feeling the stirrings of spite in the back of his heart. He cared for Brennan deeply, but Angela came first. She always came first. To find out that she was alive after a year of suffering through grief and dragging his wife out of countless nightmares... he couldn't help but hate her a little bit. What gave her the right, regardless of her troubled past and her many walls, to do this to them? To do this to Angela?

And she just bounced back into their lives, announced that she hadn't wanted to come back, and dragged Angela into more of her problems.

Didn't she understand that Angela had been through hell and back, more than once, in just the past year? Didn't she realize that maybe Booth had a goddamned good point when he ignored her and yelled at her? Because he'd heard all of it from Angela. All the problems, spilled from both Brennan and Booth onto her shoulders and then dumped over to him in the hours after they returned home to work, so he could wade through them and try to help her help them.

When in reality he just wished they'd butt out for once.

He knew it was mildly selfish, and he even hated that he felt the way he did... but he was tired. So tired of having his life with Angela run by Brennan, dead or alive. He wanted things to be the way they had been, with Brennan and Booth dealing with their own issues, and Angela gleefully intervening as she saw fit, filling him in on the details later with sparkling eyes before they returned to their own lives.

Because a long time ago, they had had lives that were their own.

And nowadays he really wanted to just scream at Brennan for all the things she had done and was still doing to all of them, but especially to Angela.

Why did his wife have to be such a good friend?

He sighed, and leaned back into the couch. He'd be kidding himself if he didn't say he loved it about her. At the same time, though, he did have to wish Brennan would be a bit of a good friend back every once in a while.

Maybe once Brennan was back at work—If it actually happened—things would run a little smoother. He doubted it, but he had to let himself have a little hope. Because at least then Angela wouldn't have to take time to spend with her so much. They'd be seeing each other every day just like before.

But as it was, Cam was still working through the paperwork, and apparently fighting with the administrators about the necessity of a third forensic anthropologist on the payroll. The argument was that she was far more qualified than the other two, to which she'd gotten the emailed response of 'Then fire one of the other ones, if you really want her on your team.'

They all knew that Cam would never do that, though, and so the past few days had passed in relative combative style. Cam was in a foul mood this morning, for one, and just about everyone else seemed to follow suit.

It had become fairly obvious as the day passed that the problem was not getting resolved any time soon. If anything, it seemed that they were getting farther from it working out.

And then the bombshell just as they were leaving—Brennan could come back to work. But only if she re-established the connection between the Jeffersonian and the FBI. Otherwise, there was no way the administrators above Cam would agree to hire her.

So there was a chance that things would work out. A chance similar to that of a snowball in July. From everything Angela had spilled to him, he knew only too well that Booth didn't want her back in the field.

Angela was gone, now, to see Brennan and break the news.

And that meant that when she returned, he was going to hear all about it. Because Brennan would be upset, and would probably decide not to come back at all, and then Angela would be upset, and she'd come home and they'd spend another long night discussing Booth and Brennan's issues rather than just enjoying each others' company.

When the doorknob turned and his wife stepped in, shaking the rain out of her curls, he was surprised by her expression.

She didn't seem upset at all. If anything, she seemed thrilled.

"How'd it go?" he asked, patting the cushion next to him. She dropped heavily into it, sighing in relief as she kicked off her shoes.

"Oddly well," she answered with a grin, letting her head roll back into the cushion behind her, and closing her eyes as a soft smile played across her lips. "She had no problem with it. None whatsoever. In fact, I think she was happy about it."

"What?" he gaped. That was... unexpected.

"I know, right? This is the first good sign she's given me... I think maybe she's hoping that Booth will agree to let her in the field if it's the only way she'll get her job back."

And there it was.

"So she's going to play that card, then?"

"It's not a bad thing, Jack," she defended, "This might push them back together... make them realize that things aren't so out of reach after all. Obviously Brennan wants to be around him. And he wants to work things out, even if he doesn't know how right now. If they get back to their old routine, she'll open up to him."

He tried not to roll his eyes. "Angie, it's not going to work like that, and we both know it."

She sighed and set her jaw in frustration. "So... what, then? Do you think they should just give up?"

"I never said that. I just said that it's not going to work out like that. For one thing, nothing's going to be really cleared between them until she gives all of us a good explanation for why she did what she did."

"This isn't about Booth, is it? This is about you still holding a grudge against her."

He'd have been fine with just about anything else she could have said. He loved her enough to deal with her obsession with fixing things between her friends. But he wasn't going to stay silent when he had a few points that needed to be made. For some reason, he felt that he needed to stand up for his other friend in this situation.

"Don't you think that Booth's been through enough already, without having to deal with worrying about her welfare every day on the job as well?"

She frowned, but he saw that he'd gotten through, and so he pushed on.

"This isn't going to solve anything. It's just going to mess the poor guy up even more, because he's still got this ridiculous inclination to do anything and everything for her, even after the hell she dragged him through... which she still hasn't had the decency to explain to him."

Just like that, Angela's eyes were alight with fire again.

"Brennan has her reasons, Jack. And you're making me out to be the bad guy here, when I've got both their interests in mind."

"Have you ever thought that maybe if you didn't involve yourself, they'd figure it out on their own?"

She was taken aback by that one, and she blinked a few times before her eyes hardened, and she got up from the couch and vanished, her footfalls heavy on the wooden stairs.

He groaned and buried his face in a pillow, letting out a muffled scream before he let his head fall back again.

Well, he'd royally screwed that one up.

But what he'd said had been fairly necessary. He hoped she'd realize that at some point tonight, or at the very least by the next morning.

It just seemed like she was trying too hard. Wearing herself down with their troubles until they consumed her. And she didn't deserve that, not from them. If she took a step back, maybe Brennan would figure out that she just had to be honest with Booth, and he'd take over from there. His main problem with Brennan wasn't that she'd lied, truthfully. It was more that she hadn't explained herself. Brennan always had good reasons for her actions. Logical, yes, and sometimes overly so, but always within the rights of her own reasoning, and for that he could hardly blame her. So if she had told them all why she'd decided to disappear from their lives, he'd be much more inclined to forgive her. And he knew the same went for Booth, and the rest of the team as well.

He just didn't want Angela to keep getting disappointed when things didn't work out. He wanted her to be happy... and if that meant being less involved in Brennan's issues, then so be it.

Only hesitating slightly, he got to his feet and followed the path she'd taken, knowing all too well that there was every chance he would be unwelcome in their bedroom tonight.

But when he arrived, she was sitting on the edge of the bed looking rather dejected.

"Sorry," she said, looking up to meet his eyes as he paused in the doorway. "I didn't mean to storm off on you," she added, her eyes twinkling with just a bit of rueful humor.

"Not a problem," he said lightly, moving to join her, and intertwining their fingers as he sat down beside her on the mattress. "She's your best friend, I get that. And you have a bit of a blind spot when it comes to her."

"I do," she agreed heavily. "I don't know if I can step back, though, Jack. She had no clue what she's doing... and if this whole idea of her going back to being his partner falls through, then I don't know what I'm going to do with her. She needs him."

"And he needs her," he added. "I know. And if they are really meant to happen, then they will. Eventually."

"Oh God," Angela whispered after a long pause. "What if she gets herself hurt, Jack? What if something happens? I mean... is she even ready to go back to work? She acts like she is... but I mean... so much has changed..."

"Maybe you should ask Sweets for some help." At the look she cast him, he hurriedly added, "With them, I mean. He should evaluate them, to make sure they're actually capable of working safely with each other. Then maybe you'd feel a little better about Brennan heading back into the field. He knows what he's doing... and he's not even really twelve anymore."

That earned a small smile.

"You've got a good point, there. I'll mention it to Cam tomorrow... she can make it mandatory or whatever."

"See? One less reason to worry about them."

"I don't think I'll ever stop worrying about them," she murmured, shaking her head.

"Well, hopefully we can find a happy place, and start... focusing more of our efforts on our own problems."

"Problems?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Situations," he corrected calmly. "Like... starting a family, for instance."

She bit her lip, and he knew that he shouldn't have brought it up. Not tonight.

"I don't want to talk about it now," she said at last, giving him a serious look that told him to drop it. Nodding silently, he resigned himself to knowing that there was nothing doing in that category for a long while to come.

He gave her hand a quick squeeze, and then slid himself off of the bed. "I'm going to take a quick shower. Get some sleep."

She bit her lip again, and he paused in the doorway to their master bathroom, waiting for her to say whatever it was that she was tossing around in her head.

"I think I'll... wait up for you," she said at last, and he couldn't help the wide grin that spread across his face. Not nearly as forthcoming as she could be when she wanted to be, but he got the message. Humming to himself and feeling relieved that he'd dodged the bullet and managed to express his opinions without destroying the entire night, he shut the bathroom door behind him.

Maybe all hope wasn't lost after all.