Chapter 28

The scent of him, the comforting security of his strength around her, lulls Brennan into a peaceful doze-like state. She's content to stay in that position for hours but her growling stomach startles both her and Booth.

"Sorry," she pulls back with a half-smile, expecting to hear his chuckle. But he doesn't look amused as he would have if they were home, but concerned.

"When was the last time you ate anything?" Booth hears how harsh his voice is and winces. "Sorry. It's just… They've been feeding you, right?"

"Yes. Booth." Brennan scrubs at her puffy face, trying to realign her emotions and firm her grasp on rational thought. "Coralilo was telling the truth. Though I felt obligated to help, I haven't felt like a hostage."

Booth looks at her intently, gauging her sincerity, unwilling to abandon his resentment and anger at the former soldier. Those emotions are easier and better than the aching hopelessness and anger he feels after hearing her ordeal. And also, the suspicion she's keeping some details or events from him. That niggling thought is like an itch on the back of his neck, but he wont push now. How can he, when she's sitting before him looking so damn fragile?

His response to her is a noncommittal grunt and to cup her face in his palm, his thumb gently rubbing against her skin. She leans into his touch, basking in the love pouring from his warm gaze. She can feel the weight of her engagement ring resting between her breasts under her shirt, and yearns to return it to its place on her finger. There's still risk that it will be lost or damaged, so she settles with tugging the chain out and running it atop the tips of her fingers.

Booth's looks down at her movements, his face smoothing into that boyish smile she adores on him. Affection swamps her and as he lowers his hand to take her ring in his fingers, she has the urge to tell him about their baby. Why is she holding back news that she knows will magnify that smile? She wraps her fingers around his and the ring, resting their joined hands over her heart. She's sure he can feel her pulse pounding so she smiles, ready to see his expression at her news. Just as she takes in a deep breath his attention is snatched by the reemergence of Coralilo.

He is very pale, staggering into the tent like a drunk. Instinctively Booth rises, moving forward just in time to catch him from slamming his face into the chair as he stumbles over his feet. Thin Man enters close behind him, closing the flaps behind him.

"What happened?" Booth asks over his shoulder, hauling Coralilo into the chair.

Coralilo glares at the young man over Booth's shoulder, speaking bitingly in Spanish. "Out, Alberto. I have business to discuss that is above you. We'll have our discussion later."

"He gave too much blood, refused to stop when told," Alberto answers Booth, still staring at Coralilo, obviously irritated. The two have identical scowls, and Booth concludes that Thin Man is Coralilo's son.

"That was extremely irresponsible and foolish," Brennan declares matter of fact. All three men look at her, Booth amused that she clearly doesn't see anything wrong with her statement. "You could have easily made the environment around Catalina more hazardous than it already is. Not to mention, if you had lost consciousness it would have detracted from the care she needs to recover."

Brennan finally notices the stares from the men. She's confused as to why, but assumes that maybe she needs to simplify her statement. "It could have caused more harm than good."

"She's alive," Coralilo says simply. He turns back to Alberto, his stare cold as ice. "I did not ask you into my quarters."

"No, you didn't," Alberto nods. "But Lina asked me to make sure you were fine. You arrived in your quarters without falling. Good enough."

With a final nod and flash of his smirk, he leaves. Coralilo spits a stream of curses in Spanish, harshly pulling a drawer on his desk. Booth raises his brows, returning to his position next to Brennan.

"Good to know I'm not alone in finding him a pain in the ass."

Coralilo grunts, tossing a stack of papers onto the desk.

"I'm sorry about Catalina." He looks at Brennan, nodding when he see's her sincerity. "How is she doing?"

"Sleeping, but will recover," he scans her, taking in the fresh bandages. "And you? Have you felt ill again?"

Booth straightens. "Again?"

"I was nauseated this morning, but I am fine now," Brennan shifts, uncomfortable. This isn't how she's going to tell Booth he's going to be a father.

Booth watches her eyes flicker to him and her lips tighten, one of her tells that she feels guilty for something. Its confirmed for him now, she's trying to keep something from him. He can't help but feel a little stab of hurt. Brennan avoids his gaze, instead choosing to change the subject.

"Who attacked the camp?"

"Bones," Booth says lowly, shaking his head. He also would like to know, but doubts that Coralilo is going to answer. He's not disappointed.

"I'm afraid that is not a story for you to know." He can see she is going to argue, so he picks up the file from his desk. "This is the original information you asked for. If you're still willing to give your services."

Brennan automatically reaches out but hesitates before opening the file. She looks to Booth, not sure how he feels about her helping. He surprises her by shrugging, though he is still looking at her intently. She buries her face into the file, jumping when her stomach releases another loud gurgle.

"You do that, I'll go find some food," Booth rises, bending to kiss her forehead.

Coralilo also rises, though much more slowly. "I will show you."

The men leave her absorbed into the file, Booth walking a step behind as Coralilo leads the way to the mess tent. They don't speak, and though both are aware of curious eyes, neither's gaze wander to acknowledge anyone. Their longs strides make quick work of the short distance and soon they're inside the large tent. There are a trio of men inside but with a slight head movement from Coralilo they gather their food and leave.

Because it is midday, there is no food being cooked, so the only offerings are fruits, bread and jerky. They move to the containers but instead of digging through, they stand taking each other's measure. Booth notes that man's jet-black hair is starting to be speckled with gray, the lines on his still pale face are a little bit deeper. There are multiple questions Booth wants to voice, but only one is really important to him.

"How sick has Temperance been?"

"I'm not sure," Coralilo answers, choosing one of the fruits and beginning to cut it with a knife. "Lina says she isn't at all."

"But?"

"I have seen her vomit three times. And she fainted on her first evening here. Though that could have been a result of her lack of food," he explains, chewing loudly.

"Fuck," Booth sighs, his worry skyrocketing. Getting home has become even more urgent.

Coralilo can guess what his old friend is thinking. "We are moving out before sunset. I have already arranged a truck and a group of men to take you back to Huehuetenango. Your friend and the other American will meet you there with my men. They will get you back to the States."

"Thank you," Booth says, the news helping to relieve his resentment. He taps his fingers on the top of the table next to him, taking a seat. He speaks slowly, stretching out his legs. "So, if I were to say the party that attacked the Americans were the same that attempted an attack today…would I be correct?"

"Perhaps," Coralilo smirks slightly, also taking a seat and mirroring Booth's pose. "Perhaps they also eliminated a group of dogs staying at an old abandoned site. Perhaps they were working with the dogs and had to put them down before they got bit. It's difficult to say."

"Sure," Booth nods. Though he is smiling slightly, his eyes are hard. "I can see them leaving behind an injured woman. But you know, I have harder time with your peopledoing the same, even to a foreigner."

"Yes, I can see how you would feel that way," he responds smoothly, unconcerned. "I would agree."

"Right." Booth shakes his head, but lets it go. He leans his elbows on the small table in front of him. "What is she trying to find for you? No bullshit."

Coralilo is silent for a long time, just staring at him. Just as Booth is sure he wont answer, he takes in a deep breath.

"The corrupt leaders of my country have set loose a …. very dangerous man. A murderer. One of those bodies may be him. Which would be quite a relief."

More questions burn on his tongue, but Booth can tell from the set of the man's mouth that asking any more is pointless. He's not satisfied, but sits back with a nod. Coralilo relaxes, a smile lightening his face.

"I must say, Temperance is…" he chuckles at Booth's narrowed gaze, holding up his hands. "she's a unique and beautiful woman. And has made it quite apparent her heart is yours. You are very lucky, my friend."

"Yeah," Booth is unable to suppress a smile, and he coughs to cover it. He rises. "I better get her some food."

Coralilo also rises, back to a somber expression. "I have preparations to oversee and will see Catalina. I will talk with you both later."

"Hey," Booth rubs the back of his neck. "I'm sorry about your daughter."

Coralilo quickly looks out the tent, assuring himself no one is near. "We do not share that connection. But thank you."

Without another word he leaves, Booth frowning after him.

…

Brennan frowns down at the papers spread on the cot. She picks up her little notebook, comparing her written examination notes to the data in the file. Her stomach rumbles again, but at the same time her throat constricts and saliva fills her mouth. She instinctively places a hand on her mouth, and grimaces, trying to fight down the urge to throw up. She lowers her hand quickly as footsteps approach.

Booth enters the tent and her head snaps up. Booth freezes, raising his filled hands in a calming gesture in response to her wide fear-filled grey eyes. Its already fading as she registers its him, but his heart still breaks that it was there in the first place. For what feels like the millionth time since they've been reunited, he wishes he could erase the whole experience from her memory.

"You ok, Bones?"

"Yes, of course." She straightens as she spies the fruit in his hand, her previous nausea already forgotten. "Is that mango?"

Even through his worry, he can't help but chuckle at her eagerness. "Yup. Freshly cut just for you, baby."

Brennan rolls her eyes, smiling fondly. She clears the papers, giving him space to sit. He starts to hand her the plate, but she surprises him by grabbing his face and kissing him deeply. Unable to use his occupied hands, all he can do is groan as her tongue duels with his. All too soon for his liking, she pulls back, warming him with his favorite soft smile.

"I really missed you," she says quietly, rubbing her nose against his. She gives him one last peck and then grabs the plate of mango. "Thank you."

"Your welcome," he shakes his head, watching her devote her full attention to eating.

He places the bowl of bread and nuts on the bed next to her leg, and with a flourish produces a bottle of water from his pocket. She laughs, juice dribbling down her chin, and his heart soars. He leaves her to eat, pulling out his own water. He glances over the papers laid out, squinting down at them with a frown.

"Bones, these are in Spanish."

"Yes," she says simply.

Booth raises his brows. "Have you learned to read the language since you've been here?"

Brennan frowns. "I haven't had nearly enough time during the dig to learn that."

"Right," Booth smiles. "So, you're just staring at the paper, hoping the letters will make sense?"

"Of course not. Booth, are you feeling ill?" Concerned she touches his forehead. Noticing his amusement, she finally realizes what he means. "Oh. You want to know how I can understand the Spanish reports."

"Yeah, Bones," he chuckles, taking her hand to give it a kiss.

"Well, to clarify, I can't read everything. But we took a compressed course on medical terminology in Spanish before we arrived."

"So, you're piecing it together." Booth picks up a page, frowning at the illegible words. "What's the verdict?"

Brennan swallows a mouthful of seeds, shaking her head. "I can't speak with certainty either way."

Knowing her hesitant tone, he raises his brows. "But?"

"But, if I had to give a determination, I would conclude that the remains do not belong to the man in the file."

Booth nods, once again watching her intently. She shifts, pulling a deep drink from her water, feeling his gaze weigh on her. She's knows he's aware that there is a secret she's keeping from him, its only a matter of time before he broaches the subject. Again, she's tempted to share the news with him, but loud shouts and movement from outside the tent grab her attention. She stiffens, her heart begins to pound.

"Somethings happening!"

"Easy, baby," Booth takes her free hand, gently rubbing his thumb in soothing motions. "They're packing up. We'll be on our back to Huehuetenango in a few hours. We'll be home by tomorrow night."

Brennan leans against his shoulder, eyes closed. "I can't wait."