Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Christine Booth, age 15:

He has to know. I might potentially be dating a girl in the near future (if all goes well), so he has to know. What could go wrong? He’s my dad, he’s gotta come around eventually. Okay, so he’s a Roman Catholic and hasn’t exactly been the most understanding of LGBT matters, but like, his issues are mostly with trans people, and he probably won’t kick me out or anything. And Mom is way smarter than him and totally supports me, so she’ll take my side. 

"I'm gonna tell him. I have to tell him."

"Tell who what, Christine?" Mom responded, confused.

"Tell Dad that I'm bi. He's my dad, he should know, right?"

"I do suppose that he'll learn of your sexuality at some point, but you don't need to tell him if you don't want to."

"Well, now I need to, cause I texted him and said I wanted to talk to him about something when he gets home from work," I said, my hands shaking incessantly. 

"Oh, okay," she replied as though it was nothing, "Your hands are shaking, that's a symptom of your anxiety. Are you nervous?" 

"Yeah I'm nervous, what if he hates me? What if he wants nothing to do with me? What if he stops loving me?" I exclaimed. My voice now shook as well as my hands. Mom sat her work down (she was always working, even at home) to comfort me. 

She hugged me tightly. "Your father could never hate you, honey. He may not understand completely at first, but he won't hate you, and he won't be angry. I promise, okay?"

I nodded, hugging my mom once more. I had such a good relationship with my dad, and I really really was not in the mood to screw it up. 

Several minutes later, the door clicked open, and my dad walked in, returning from his job as an FBI agent. “Hey, sweetie, I got your text. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?” he asked. My whole system was screaming Abort! Abort! Abort! at this point, but there was no going back now. I sat him down on the couch. Mom sat next to me on the couch across from my father.

I took a deep breath. Dad looked at me, concerned.

“I um, uh. Well, you see…” I stuttered, unable to form those two words I needed.

“Spit it out, Christine. Bones, do you know what this is about?” he asked, genuinely concerned. Mom didn’t reply to him, opting to let me suffer, but offering me a comforting hand to hold.

“I’m bisexual! Please don’t hate me,” I suddenly blurted, squeezing Mom’s hand. She squeezed it back. Dad definitely looked confused, but not angry or disappointed, which was relieving.

“Sweetheart, I’ll love you no matter what. You could murder somebody, and I’d still love you more than anything." 

Relief flooded through me.

“But, I am a little confused,” my father continued.

Oh, here we go.

“What exactly does bisexual mean? I know it’s one of those LGBT things and all, but I don’t know what it is. Is it another word for gay?”

I breathed slowly, calming myself. This was nothing compared to what I expected. My dad still loves me, and he just wants to know what it means . Besides, Mom was right next to me and would come to my defense if necessary. 

“No, it means that I like both girls and guys. Like Angela. She’s bisexual,” I said, as nonchalantly as possible. At that, Mom looked at me.

“Huh, I wasn’t aware you’d been talking with Angela about her dating life,” she said, surprised.

“Yeah, she’s the one that told me what bisexual meant. It was awhile ago, maybe a year and a half ago, way back I was in seventh grade.”

I recalled that conversation from my middle school days, poking around in the lab after school. Angela, my mom’s best friend, had just finished explaining how the facial reconstruction software worked when I butted in with a rather personal question. 

“Hey Angela, how long have you and Dr. Hodgins been married for?” I don’t know why I asked. Probably out of due to my incessant middle school curiosity. 

Angela smiled. “Many years, sweetie." 

“Oh. Did you date anyone other than him before that?” I asked. Again, not sure why.

Angela laughed softly. “Yes honey, I did. There were a few people in high school, and then in college there was Roxie, and then I met Hodgins, then I broke up with Hodgins, then I was with Roxie again, then Roxie and I broke up, and then I was with Wendell, but now I’m with Hodgins again. For good this time.”

That surprised me. I knew girls could like boys or girls, but I didn’t know they could like both.

“Wait, Roxie? That’s a girls name,” I said, just to make sure that this Roxie was in fact a girl.

“Yes, honey, it is. I date both men and women.”

Something clicked in me. I think Angela noticed. Rather than wait for her to say something, I decided to spill my heart out, right then and there.

“You can do that? I didn’t know. I mean, I knew girls were allowed to like girls or guys, my mom’s told me that before, but I never knew you could like both. ‘Cause see, there was this boy in my class, George, and I really liked him, like really liked him, but then he moved away, so my crush went away. But then later there was this girl, Liz, and I started to get funny feelings for her the same way I did with George. I was real confused, cause I thought I was only supposed to like one or the other, but I liked a boy and a girl. Is there a word for it like there is for gay and straight? I think that’s what I am.”

I took a breath, then looked up at Angela. She smiled gently, then sat down next to me and put her arm around me.

“Yes, there’s a word for it. Bisexual. It means you like both guys and girls.”

“Bisexual,” I replied, testing the word out, “I like it. I’m bisexual.”

Angela smiled once more and hugged me again. I told Mom pretty soon after that, before I realized that this was a big deal for a parent to hear from their child.

Dad’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “Wait, so does this mean you’ll date two people at the same time? Cause that’s kinda weird.”       

Mom gave him a confused look and I took a moment to ease my shaking voice. “No, dad. It just means that I can have crushes on either girls or guys. I’m only interested in dating one person at a time, though.”

“Oh,” Dad replied, seemingly relieved. “I just… life is already so hard for gay people. There are so many rude people in the world. Why can’t you just pick a side? Just date men, your life would be so much easier,” he said this not with anger, but with worry. He really meant it. He wanted to protect me, but instead he was just hurting me.

“Seeley!” Mom exclaimed, shocked. She must have been really mad; she never used his first name.

I knew he was coming from a place of love, I knew he just wanted to protect me. I knew all that. But his words still angered me to no end. The anger overtook my anxiety. Somewhere, somehow, I found the courage to say what I really wanted to.

Letting go of Mom’s hand, I stood up. 

“Dad, no. I can’t do that! I know you care, I know you want to protect me. I know, okay? I know the world sucks, and I know you love me. But I can’t just ignore half of who I am. I can’t ignore half of my identity. I won’t! My life wouldn’t be easier that way, it would be miserable!” I yelled, tears now escaping my eyes.

My father looked down. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. But couldn’t you just try? Or just, only date boys?”

Another stab to the chest.

“No, I can’t. I can’t just date guys. I can’t. Because…” I was angry, I didn’t think about my words. I couldn’t stop myself. “Because I love a girl! Because I am in love with a girl, okay?”

Oh God. My anger faded, replaced by anxiety and fear. The tears began to flow more liberally. Why did I say that? Christine, you are so fucking stupid, why would you tell them that? Now he’ll really hate you! He’ll hate you and your potential girlfriend!

I hadn’t spoken to either parent about Ellis, so both looked at me with shock on their faces. Mom simply looked surprised, while Dad… I think he finally realized that this was real and not going to go away. Before they could say anything, I turned and raced up the stairs, hiding my red face.

I threw myself into my room and onto my bed. I sobbed into the pillow. I wished I could go back to a year ago. When I was happy with myself and my sexuality, before I knew it could be an issue with anyone. Before I knew that anyone would hate me for who I am. I was just me, and I was happy. Anxiety hadn’t taken over my life yet, hadn’t kept me from doing stupidly easy things like calling people on the phone or going shopping on Black Friday. God, I am so fucking stupid. My own father is gonna hate me now.

It didn’t matter how irrational the thoughts were, they were there, and they wouldn’t go away. I couldn’t stop crying. God, anxiety attacks suck.

~~~

“Booth, what on Earth prompted you to say those things? Bisexuality has existed across many cultures for millennia, I don’t understand why our daughter being bisexual is such a foreign concept to you,” Brennan scolded.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m just so worried about her. She’s my world, Bones, my world. She and Hank and Parker matter to me more than anything. I just want her to be happy, and there are just so many people out there that will hurt her,” Booth said, his voice regretful.

Brennan wasn’t very good when it came to emotions, but she did understand one thing.

“Booth, Christine doesn’t care about any of the threats that the world offers. She only cares that her father loves and accepts her,” she said, getting up from her seat to sit next to him.

“God, I know, why did I say those things?” Booth exclaimed, angry with himself.

“Because you love her, and from my observations of past experiences, love can cause irrational decision making and impaired reasoning. You should talk to her, clarify the hurtful things you said.”

Booth kissed her on the forehead.

“Right, yeah, I will. I think she needs a chance to calm down first. What would I do without you?”

She didn’t realize the rhetorical nature of the question and replied, “Well, chances are you would have either found a different compatible partner or–”

Booth cut her off with a kiss. They kissed deeply for a moment then fell into each other's arms on the couch.

“So I wonder who this girl is that Christine talked about,” Booth said, looking up at his wife. 

“I don’t know. She’s never mentioned her to me before,” she replied.

 “Hey, speaking of, how long have you known about Christine being… y’know?” Booth asked. He knew it was stupid to not want to say the word but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

 “Her being bisexual? Probably about a year and a half. I believe she was in seventh grade at the time. I think she told me pretty soon after she figured it out herself, considering that she was excited to tell me and had no idea that it was possible that I, or anyone, could react poorly. She hadn’t yet learned of the incomprehensible prejudices of others,” she responded, nestling her head into Booth’s shoulder.

 Booth, in this moment, hated himself. His daughter used to be excited to tell others about herself, and now… now she cried as she told him, fearing that he would hate her. He wouldn’t have that. He couldn’t let his own daughter fear him.

 “I gotta go talk to her,” he said, gently nudging Brennan off himself.

~~~

I laid sniffling on my bed, scrolling through my phone. I was literally stalking Ellis’s instagram to feel better. I was kinda pathetic. Suddenly, I heard the doorknob turn. I was expecting Mom to enter, but I saw Dad’s face instead. I simply turned away from him, continuing to look at pictures of my stupid crush.

 “Hey, Christine, can we talk?” he asked in the gentlest tone possible. I didn’t reply.

 “I’m sorry, okay? I’m so so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, I never wanted any of that to happen. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, I only wanted to protect you from the world, but your mother helped me realize that I can’t do that” he continued. It sounded like he meant it. I wanted him to mean it. I didn’t want my father to hate who I was, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling that he despised my sexuality.  

 “Are you sure?” I asked through tears, “Are you really sure? ‘Cause if you want, we don’t have to talk about this any more. You can just forget I said anything.”

 I told myself that I was giving him an out, but really, I was giving myself an out. I was giving myself a chance to avoid having this conversation, to avoid having to explain myself again and again.

 “I’m really sure,” he said, sitting at the foot of my bed, “I know I’m gonna screw up sometimes, I know I won’t be perfect about this, but I want to try. You’re my daughter, and I have to let you be whoever you are.”

 His words helped, but my anxiety clung to me. I couldn’t seem to push away the stupid feeling that he didn’t mean anything he was saying. I stayed silent, but he wouldn’t let up.

 “So, tell me about this girl you mentioned. What’s her name?”

 I hesitated, but decided to speak. “Ellis,” I replied, reflexively smiling as her name exited my lips.

 “Ellis,” Dad repeated. “Is she a freshman, too?”

 I don’t know why I kept talking, but Ellis was just so easy to talk about. I sat up, still afraid that my dad secretly hated my guts, but eager to talk about my crush.

 “Yeah, we’re in art and Latin together, which is how I know her. I take Latin ‘cause I find dead languages cool, but she takes it ‘cause she wants to be a doctor. She’s a total nerd, but she’s so smart. Way smarter than I’ll ever be. She moved here from Seattle this year, ‘cause her mom got a better job here. Her mom is a crazy good surgeon that won some crazy surgery award. Her dad was a really good surgeon to, but he died in a car accident before she was born. Oh, and she has this blue hair. It’s so pretty, it matches her eyes. Oh, her eyes are so beautiful, they’re this blue-green color–” I cut myself off and snapped my hand over my mouth, realizing that I had just spent a concerning amount of time gushing about my crush while smiling like an idiot.

 Then I looked at Dad, and he was smiling too. 

 “Hey, she sounds wonderful,” he said, scooting closer and wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

 “She is, she really is,” I replied, “but we haven’t actually started dating yet. I think she likes me. We have late night chats about deep stuff, and we always sorta flirt with each other, and I know she also likes girls. But I don’t know how to tell her how I feel, y’know?”

 “I do know. I spent six solid years pining after your mother before we finally got together. My advice is to just go for it. Don’t do it over text, that leaves to much room for misunderstanding. Just pull her aside and explain how you feel, and if she doesn’t feel the same, then at least you told her. If she does, then you’ll be glad you didn’t wait, cause if you wait, she might slip away.”

 I couldn’t believe that my dad had just given me actual dating advice about a girl. I don’t know why that made me happy to the point of tears, but it did. I cried softly, burying my head in his shoulder.

 ~~~

 Booth sighed as Christine cried into his shoulder and he rubbed her back. It was getting late now, and she had school tomorrow. He placed a kiss on the top of her head and shut his eyes.

Chapter Text

“Hey mom, guess what!” I exclaimed, praying the shaking in my voice wasn’t noticeable. I knew she wasn’t going to care; back in Seattle she had a ton of friends that were gay. It was Seattle, after all. But friends weren’t the same as a child.

“Oh look, the darkness has emerged from her shadowy cave. What is it, Ellis?” Mom replied, looking up from her book.

“Yeah, Ellis, what is it?” Bailey mimicked from across the living room. He knew I was gonna tell her about me being super fucking gay, and he would not stop mocking me about being nervous.  

“Shut up Bailey. And uh, it’s nothing, just that um–”

“Spit it out.”

“Well, you see, uh…”

“Are you pregnant? Please don’t be pregnant. I would totally support you and everything, but I would also be real freakin’ pissed.”

“No mother, I’m not knocked up, and uh, chances are I’m not gonna be, because, I’m…”

I paused.

“You’re…?” Mom asked slowly. Ugh, Ellis, get over it. Just tell her, damnit.

I took a deep breath. “I’m gay. Really gay. Surprise!” I announced with weak jazz hands. Mom didn’t looked surprised at all . There was literally zero expression on her face.

“Oh, I know.” was her only response.

“What? Who told you? Bailey, you jackass!” I yelled in his general direction.

“Hey, don’t look at me!” he exclaimed, putting his hands up and feigning fear, to which I rolled my eyes.

“Nobody had to tell me. You’re my child. I know you. Besides, between the haircut and the Ruby Rose poster, you do make it pretty damn obvious,” she said with a faint smile, returning to her book.

“Wait, so you knew the whole time?” I asked as I sat down next to her. I wasn’t sure what the whole time meant, but I knew I found myself slightly angry that I had to get this worked up to tell my mother something she already knew.

“Well I didn’t know anything, but I’ve suspected for awhile. Babe, you know I love you no matter what right? Marry a pig for all I care, you’re still my daughter” Mom replied, noticing my leg that bounced up and down at a rapid pace.

“Yeah, I know,” I said, leaning my head into her shoulder. She tossed her book aside and rest her head on mine.

“Awwwwww” Bailey joked. I flipped him off.

~~~

“Dinner’s ready!” Mom called from downstairs. Dinner was always a surprise with her, and it was rarely good. Before Zola went off to college, she would cook sometimes, and it was always way better than anything Mom had to offer. Still, it was food on the table, and she did try her best. I paused to take a whiff of the air. Tonight smelled like rock hard lasagna. Reluctantly, I dragged myself out of bed and down the stairs, where I was greeted with a correct prediction. Overdone lasagna.

“Well aren’t you just peachy?” Mom noted when she saw my dead expression. I forced a sarcastic smile onto my face.

“It’s the chronic depression.”

She huffed and returned to slicing up the dinner. I’d been on meds and in therapy for my depression for awhile, so I was allowed to make jokes about it.

We quickly set the table and got our slices of lasagna. The meat was that turkey stuff that’s ground up the same way beef is but it’s not the same cause it’s not beef, it's turkey. We didn’t really eat red meat, ‘cause it’s bad for your colon, and my mom was a general surgeon, so she saw a lot of colons. As I sat down and began to take my first bite of deliciousness, Bailey decided to be the jackass he usually was.

“Hey, Ellis. Why don’t you tell mom about Chrissstttiiine?” he asked, dragging out her name. He looked at me dead in the eyes, as though daring me to tell mom all about her.

“Shut your face!” I exclaimed, whacking him in the shoulder with the sleeve of my oversized sweatshirt. He laughed.

“Oh? Who’s Christine?” Mom questioned, eyebrows raised. Fucking fuck, fuck you Bailey , I thought to myself.

“Nobody,” I replied in a threatening voice, glaring at my older brother. God, why did I tell him anything about my life?

“Is that so? You sure she’s not your crush?” Mom asked. Jesus, how does that woman know everything about me?

I groaned and put my face in my hands. My mother just laughed in response.

“Fine. Yeah. Whatever. She’s a girl in two of my classes, and I kinda like her.”

Mom raised her eyebrows suspiciously.

“Okay a lot like her. Whatever,” I mumbled into my lasagna. They both giggled. I stuffed a few forkfuls of salty ground turkey into my mouth to avoid saying any more on the matter.

After dinner, I went upstairs and did my homework. Not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t know any other way of life. Always have homework done on time, always have it done well. That’s how I lived life. It sucked, but at least my grades were good, and at least I had a shot at a decent medical school. Math and science (especially chem) both came relatively easy to me, and I could even manage English, but history? That shit is so goddamn dull. It’s nothing but remembering stupid facts and dates, and none of it calls for understanding any concepts. It’s just dumb retention and recitation. I groaned and slammed my head on the table. Maybe if I just pressed my head against the material it would absorb into my brain. Like osmosis. No wait, it would be diffusion. ‘Cause unfortunately, history facts aren’t made of water.

I think I almost fell asleep on my homework. Thankfully, that didn’t happen. I jerked awake as Mom knocked on the door and cracked it open.  

“Ellis? Can I talk to you for a moment?”

I rubbed my bloodshot eyes, orienting myself. “Yeah, yeah. What is it?” I sighed.

“I just wanted to apologize for dinner. I shouldn’t have asked you about Christine if you didn’t want to talk about her.”

“No, it’s okay,” I grumbled, trying to focus on my work.

Mom replied, “No, it’s not. That was rude of me. But if you’re okay with it, I would like to hear about this girl. Without Bailey in the room.”

The corners of my mouth turned up at the thought of Christine. Those two class periods, art and Latin, were by far the best part of my school day. She was so cute and bubbly, but not in the annoying and fake kind of way that you usually get with shiny happy people. She seemed like a real, genuine person, and she radiated joy. I felt warm around her. During the majority of my day, I usually felt empty. Dead. Depressed. But during art and Latin, I had something nice to think about for once. I could so clearly imagine her wavy strawberry blonde hair bouncing around as she laughed–

Mom’s voice cut into my daydream. “You’re blushing. It’s cute.”

Oh God. I felt my face. It was hot. (Temperature-wise. I’m insecure.)

“Mom, stop!” I exclaimed. I felt more heat rise to my cheeks. Embarrassment consumed me. I knew I shouldn’t be so bothered by my mom asking about my high school crush, yet I still felt afraid. I don’t know, it just felt awkward to be talking to my mom about a crush on a girl. As though she secretly wished Christine was actually Christopher. I knew it wasn’t true, but… I couldn’t stop myself from feeling a little guilty. It was stupid. I turned away from mom and stared closely at the work in front of me.

“Okay, okay, I’ll leave now. I love you. Goodnight.”

Just before she shut the door behind her, I did something really stupid.

“Wait!” I said, clenching my eyes shut.

Mom paused.

“Yes?”

“Christine. I’ll tell you about her. I mean, only if you want.”

Mom stepped back into my room, quietly closing the door behind her.

“I do, of course I do.”

She sat on my bed and looked at me expectantly. Fuck, I didn’t know what to say.

“Where should I start? What’d’you wanna know?” I asked, pulling at my thumb to have something else to focus on.

“Oh, I don’t know. What’s her personality like? You know a good personality is very important. I’ve been with multiple guys that were nice to look at, but very stupid. Stupid people aren’t keepers.”

What could I possibly say about her that would put my feelings for Christine into words?

“Okay, well she’s definitely not stupid. She doesn’t want to be a doctor like me, but like, she’s not failing all her classes either. And she’s not fake. I hate fake people, especially people that are happy and perky all the time. She’s bubbly, but not perky, y’know? Like, instead of shoving her happiness in your face, she makes you feel happy too. And her eyes are so pretty. They’re green. And her hair is strawberry blonde. I don’t know… I  just really like her. Gah!” I exclaimed, shoving my face back into my homework. Why is this so difficult for me? Mom and I are usually super close. Ugh. As I stared at my desk, I felt a touch on my back. I looked up, and my mom was right next to me. She knelt down, smiling.

“Ellis Shepherd. You’re in highschool. You’re supposed to find love, make mistakes, go to stupid parties, and be way too stressed about exams. This is a good thing. If you really like this Christine, go for it. You deserve every opportunity that comes your way, Ellis. You deserve it all.”

I didn't have a clue how to respond to that. So I just hugged my mom.