Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Cam froze at the sight of the teenager in front of her. She had been called out to a crime scene, alongside Brennan and Booth. They had entered the shack where the remains were, and Brennan had reached out to begin her examination when she disappeared…or maybe not disappeared, considering the teen's coloring.

"Brennan?" She asked cautiously. The teenager startled, falling backwards from where they had been crouched. Cam inhaled sharply as their hair fell away from their face, revealing bruising across one eye and cheek.

The teenager scrambled backwards, looking for a way out only to see Booth in the door. "Please, I don't know how I got here. I'm sorry, I'll leave, I didn't mean to cause any trouble, please." Cam could see her starting to hyperventilate. Booth looked shocked.

"It's okay." Cam tried to keep her voice soothing. "You aren't in trouble. Are you Temperance Brennan?"

Brennan nodded. Well. She supposed that was better than Brennan - the adult one - being replaced by a completely different teenager.

"I'm Doctor Cam Saroyan, and that's Special Agent Booth with the FBI. Can you tell me what day it is?"

"April 15th, 1992." Brennan's eyes were fixed on her own knees, her voice flat and quiet.

"Alright, we need to take you back to where I work now, okay?" Cam looked at Booth and he mouthed I've had them clear out until we can get her into the Jeffersonian van. She nodded. The last thing they needed was word getting out that Brennan was 18 years younger for no apparent reason. "I'll take you to the van."

His mind was whirling. How the hell had his partner ended up 18 years younger just from touching a body? He'd left the techs at the scene with orders to be extremely careful with the remains, and then followed Cam back to the Jeffersonian. He'd called in the car to tell Hodgins and Angela what had happened, and they had promised to clear a path to the lab. He sighed as he parked. This would be a nightmare if they couldn't figure out what had happened.

Cam and Bones got out of the Jeffersonian van. Looking at young Bones made his heart ache. He knew some of what she'd gone through in foster care, but hearing stories didn't hold a candle to seeing his partner as a teenager, hunching into herself, her hair covering her bruised face.

Angela and Hodgins had pulled through, and they didn't run into a single person making their way into the lab. They went to Cam's office, finding Angela and Hodgins waiting. Booth pulled the door closed behind him, wincing internally at Brennan's flinch at being trapped.

Angela spoke first. "Hi, sweetie. I'm Angela. How'd you get here?"

Bones shook her head. "I don't know, I'm sorry. It felt like I just appeared, as strange as that sounds, but I'm not lying." Her voice got frantic at the end, hugging herself. Heartbreak flashed across Angela's face.

"It's okay hon, we believe you. We'll get everything figured out, don't worry." Angela already had the soothing mother voice down pat, he noted.

"Brennan, I wanted to get a look at your face. Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Bones was shaking her head before Cam even finished talking. "I'm fine, that's not necessary. I wouldn't want to waste your time." Booth could catch the fear in her voice, and he exchanged a look with Cam.

"It's not a waste of my time, and I'm concerned about your face. If there's broken skin you're at risk of infection from being so close to the remains. I really do need to do a full examination."

Brennan looked defeated, curling into herself. "Yes, Doctor Saroyan." Her voice had gone flat again, subdued. Cam lead her over to the table and had her sit and pull her hair back. Booth heard Angela gasp at the bruising on her face, Hodgins' eyes going wide. She had a black eye, and a hand-shaped bruise across one cheek, complete with cuts where rings would go.

Cam kept her face impassive, washing the cuts before putting band-aids on. "I need to check the rest of you now." Before she could continue, Bones reached for the hem of her shirt and went to take it off. "No!" Cam reached for her hands and Bones flinched away, cowering on the table. Cam took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Brennan. I didn't mean to scare you. I was just going to have the others leave first, okay?" Brennan nodded, eyes fixed on the edge of the table, and Booth filed out with Angela and Hodgins.

She waited for them to leave and close the door before speaking again. "Would you rather I look at your torso first?"

Brennan shrugged. "Whatever you prefer, Doctor Saroyan." Her voice was subdued, a far cry from the strong-willed colleague Cam knew.

"We'll start there, then." Brennan took off her shirt, and Cam mentally thanked her years of practive keeping a straight face. Brennan's front was covered in bruises, some looking to be the result of punches and kicks. She was underweight, with visible ribs. Looking at her arms, Cam saw scars from cuts and burns, as well as hand-shaped bruises and marks around her wrists like she'd been restrained. "Can you turn around, please?" Brennan's back, once revealed, proved to be just as bad as her front, with welts that looked to be from a belt or similar instrument, as well as more bruises and cuts. Cam silently washed and bandaged the open wounds.

"Alright, now the legs." Cam internally frowned, noticing that Brennan took her pants off without going to put her shirt back on, leaving her in only her underwear on the table. Her legs were similarly injured - welts, bruises, and cut as well as assorted scarring. But far more concerning were the hand-shaped bruises on her upper thighs. Cam took care of the open wounds before stepping back. "All done." Brennan didn't respond, silently redressing.

Cam waited for Brennan to be done redressing before she spoke again. "You have quite a few injuries."

Brennan didn't make eye contact. "I'm clumsy." Her words sounded rote, like something that had been repeated so long she had internalized it. Cam doubted it was actually true - she had seen Brennan as an adult meticulously reconstruct shattered skulls and practice martial arts with grace.

"That doesn't explain the cuts or burn scars." Cam made sure her tone was neutral. Brennan would no doubt spook easily.

Brennan didn't speak again, keeping her eyes focused on her own knees. Cam waited for a few minutes before continuing, "I've taken care of everything but you'll need to keep the bandages fresh. You can see me for replacements. If anything changes, tell me."

Brennan nodded again. "Thank you, Doctor Saroyan."

"Of course, Brennan."

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Brennan looked around the conference room Doctor Saroyan had brought her to. She'd been alone since Doctor Saroyan left. That was fine. She was fine. Maybe they'd forget about her for a while. That wouldn't be so bad, she could just rest. Not sleep. But rest. She didn't remember the last time she'd been able to sit by herself like this. Her current foster parents always had some chore for her to do. She barely had time for her homework.

Did her foster parents know she was missing? Had they reported it? Maybe they wouldn't care. It's not like they liked her. But it would give them a reason to punish her. Again. Not that they suffered a want of reasons - she never could manage to reach their standards. They wouldn't believe that she didn't know how she'd disappeared. No matter that she couldn't have left on her own, not from the - she decided to stop thinking about that.

Hopefully they'd call it good riddance and move on. She didn't want Doctor Saroyan and Agent Booth and Angela to learn that she's a foster kid. She knew what would happen - the assumptions would start, and they wouldn't be kind anymore. Doctor Saroyan wouldn't bother worrying about her injuries anymore if she knew, wouldn't bother asking how she got hurt, wouldn't bother asking please even when Brennan knew she didn't have a choice.

If she was good she'd tell them herself. She was lying to them right now, a lie by omission. But she wasn't good. Her time in foster care had made that clear. Besides, she'd be punished for it when she was returned. She'd have to tell them once they asked - and she knew they would. She'd be punished for burdening strangers and causing trouble and then everything would be back to normal. They'd forget about her. People always did.

Cam walked into Angela's office to expectant looks from Booth, Angela, and Hodgins. "She's not in immediate danger." All three of them relaxed.

"What about non-immediate danger?" Booth, of course. He probably knew the most about Brennan's personal history.

She took a deep breath, leaning back on her professionalism. "Underweight, contusions, lacerations, scarring. Strong indicators of physical abuse. Additional potential of sexual abuse." Booth and Hodgins both swore. Angela had her hand over her mouth, eyes wet. "Behavior indicates likely psychological trauma consistent with the impact of the sustained physical trauma, although I am unqualified make further judgement on that."

Booth broke the silence. "So we have a traumatized, injured, and potentially assaulted teenager sitting in our conference room, and because she's also Bones and should not be a teenager, we can't tell people, which means we can't pursue treatment without a cover story, which would also have to provide an explanation for her thinking it's 1992 without telling her that it's not 1992 and having her freak out. So we have to figure out who absolutely needs to be told, how to keep this under wraps, how to turn mini Bones back into normal Bones, and what to do with mini Bones in the mean time." Well, when you put it like that it sounds like a lot.

"Just another day at the office, right?" Hodgins muttered. Angela smacked him on the arm, and they sat down to hammer out a plan.

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Eventually the adults walked into the conference room, looking serious. They must have made a decision about what to do with her. They all sat down on the other side of the conference table. Brennan kept her eyes locked on her own folded hands.

Doctor Saroyan was the one to speak. "Brennan, we've been talking, and we'd like to run some things by you, okay?" Brennan nodded. It wasn't like she had a choice. "It would be best for you to stay with one of us while we complete our investigation. Any of us can take you, and we'll all help take care of you-"

At the last phrase, Brennan snapped, remembering various foster parents telling her they'd take care of her. She couldn't live with that again. It was too much. She bolted for the door. Agent Booth was faster. He was blocking her way. She looked for any means of escape and her eyes caught on the gun on his hip. She ran at him, and he braced to try and catch her, but she didn't try and fight him like he expected, instead pulling his gun out of the holster.

He had thought everything was going fine. Mini Bones looked tense, yeah, but she had just appeared at a crime scene surrounded by strangers so he thought that was fair. Her reaction when Cam said they would take care of her caught them all off guard, mini Bones bolting for the door. He stood and moved to block it, and she paused for a moment before running at him. He prepared for her to try and fight her way past, then felt his heart stop when she pulled his gun out of its holster and switched the safety off. He reached out but she had darted back out of reach and was holding the gun to her own temple.

"Let me leave," her voice was shaking, "or I'm pulling the trigger." Booth tuned out everyone else in the room, training switching on in an instant.

"Hey, it's okay," he tried to soothe. "What was that for? If you need a moment you can just say so. We know this is a lot."

She was shaking. "I can't do this again."

"Do what again?" What had happened to set her off like this?

"Be taken care of!" She yelled. "I know what that means! I'm not going back to that!"

Booth wanted to hunt down every single person who had ever interacted with her while she was in foster care and make them regret all of their mistakes. "What does being taken care of mean to you?"

She laughed. "It means you've already decided I'm a problem. That you're going to try and fix me. So I can be normal." Her voice was rising. "It means that you're going to hurt me as soon as I'm not what you want!"

Booth took a breath. "Okay, so that's what it means to you. What it meant to us is that we would make sure you had food, and a bedroom, and clothes. That we would make sure you were safe, instead of you being on your own."

She looked incredulous. "Why should I believe you?"

He decided to go the blunt route. "Look, Brennan, if someone had really made me think you were a problem I'd be taking you down to the FBI right now." Well, maybe. Depended on the type of problem. A normal teenager could be a problem for a normal case in a number of ways. "And I would have come in here alone. I don't bring people who aren't field-ready in to deal with problems."

She turned the safety back on and lowered the gun, thank God. He slowly walked over, trying not to spook her, and held his hand out for the gun back. She gave it to him, her eyes going distant again as the adrenaline wore off.

She felt numb as she sat back down. There went the option of any of them taking her. None of them would want her in their house now. She kept her eyes on her hands where they were folded in her lap. She didn't want to see their faces. It's not like she would have been able to tell what they were thinking anyways. Maybe it would have been better if she'd pulled the trigger. Then they wouldn't have to figure out what to do with her. Again. They'd talked and figured something out and now she'd ruined all of their hard work by being a freak like always. She felt like she was floating somewhere far away.

Doctor Saroyan spoke again. "So as I was saying, any of us could take you while we solve the case. I live with my daughter Michelle, but you would have your own room. She's a senior in high school right now." What. Why was she talking like she'd still let Brennan live with her, like she'd take Brennan to where her own child lived?

Agent Booth spoke next. "I live with my girlfriend, but she's out of town for work for a couple of weeks. I have partial custody of my son Parker, he's ten, but he could stay at his mom's house during nights and you could take his room."

The other man spoke. "Angela and I are married and live together. Ange is pregnant, due in a few months, but we don't have any other kids or anyone else living with us. You'd have your own room."

Were they all really still okay with taking her? It seemed like none of them were going to take it back. She thought through the options. Agent Booth was out, she couldn't take his son's room. After thinking for a moment, she decided against Doctor Saroyan as well. She'd seen kids get upset when their parents decided to take in a foster kid before, and that never ended well for the foster kid. That left Angela and her husband. He'd said their baby wasn't due for another few months, so she didn't need to worry about how a new baby would affect things. She wouldn't be upsetting a family dynamic or taking someone's bedroom.

"I'd like to stay with you and Angela, please."

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Brennan felt numb as she stared out the window. Angela and her husband, who she had finally learned was named Hodgins, were taking her to their house now. She wondered idly where she was; she didn't recognize the area. She didn't ask. Bringing up her sudden, unexplained appearance at a crime scene was solidly in the fourth quartile in her ranking of conversational topics. Most things that had happened to her since entering foster care were.

Hodgins turned into a long driveway. Looking out the window as they drove up, she found herself too tired to be properly surprised at the mansion where Angela and Hodgins apparently lived. Who knows, maybe they'd put her in servants quarters.

They got out of the car and Angela and Hodgins began chattering as they led her into the house, rambling until they reached a guest bedroom. They opened the door to a medium-sized room with blue walls and pale wood furniture.

"So yeah, this is where you'll be staying. I mean unless you don't like it, we can look at other rooms if you want, there's plenty of space, but we thought you'd like this one. Do you like this one?" Hodgins concluded.

"Yes, thank you." She didn't really care anymore. A room with a door and no other occupants was better than she'd had at some homes.

"Alright, we'll leave you to have some time to yourself unless you need anything right now?" Angela asked. Brennan shook her head, then jolted with panic to respond verbally.

"No, thank you." She'd learned that some people were very particular about verbal responses. She didn't understand why, but she couldn't afford any further incidents. Thankfully, Angela and Hodgins withdrew quickly. She waited until they were out of the hallway to ease the door more closed, leaving it cracked. They hadn't specified if she was allowed to close it yet, but this wasn't closed. That done, she walked to the bed and collapsed onto it, too exhausted for anything else. She didn't let herself sleep. She didn't know if they allowed naps.

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Angela waited until she and Jack were in their bedroom with the door closed before collapsing on the bed and letting out a scream into her pillow. What the actual fuck was this day? She felt Jack flop onto the bed next to her and rolled over to look at him. He looked about like she felt: shocked, heartsick, and confused as hell.

"What the actual fuck is going on?"

Jack laughed. "Well, Dr. B got turned into a teenager at a crime scene and we have no idea how, she's traumatized to hell and back, and apparently willing to try and kill herself to escape. So all in all I'd say this day is utter shit."

She sighed in agreement and rested her head on his shoulder. "I mean, I knew her time in foster care wasn't good, but this is…" she gestured vaguely.

"Yeah. Yeah it is. C'mon baby, let's take a nap."

Brennan stared at the ceiling, trying to think. She didn't know how long it would take for her foster parents to realize she was missing. Although she didn't know exactly how long she'd been in the trunk, she'd guess at least 16 hours, assuming she hadn't been unconscious for too long at any point. It had been around seven pm when they'd dragged her out, and then her foster father had driven to work. She remembered hearing him chat with some coworkers in the parking lot, too terrified to try and cry out through the layers of duct tape on her mouth with him right there.

And the next thing she knew, she'd been at the crime scene. In the missing time, the duct tape had disappeared from her mouth, and the rope from her wrists and ankles. There didn't appear to be any residue left, however, and she and her clothes (which were the same as when she'd been in the trunk) were clean when they definitely shouldn't be.

So. Somehow, she'd gotten out of the trunk, gotten free of the restraints, gotten clean, and ended up at a crime scene with no memory of the intervening hours. It seemed likely she'd passed out. Perhaps her foster father had taken her out of the trunk once he got home, undone the restraints, and cleaned her up. It seemed unlikely that they'd have bothered washing her clothes and then redressing her in the same outfit, but then again there was a time when she wouldn't have imagined being locked in the trunk of a car after breaking a dish either.

None of that explained how she'd ended up at a crime scene, though. Had her foster parents dumped her somewhere? Had she run away? She didn't even know where she was, so she couldn't try and figure out how long it'd taken her to get there. They'd asked her the date, and she'd gone with the day after she'd been locked in the trunk, but why had they asked her that at all?

The most disconcerting part of ending up at the crime scene, though, was that they'd recognized her. Doctor Saroyan had known her name immediately, and Agent Booth hadn't questioned how she knew. Although maybe he just hadn't wanted to question Doctor Saroyan in front of her? She didn't know anymore. They'd known who she was, but hadn't brought up her foster parents, or asked how she'd gotten there. It didn't make sense. What did they want from her?

She froze, remembering something her most recent foster father had said. "We don't get paid enough to deal with you. You better shape up or we'll sell you to whatever sucker would take you. God knows the world would be better off without you." Maybe after she'd broken the dish, they'd decided to sell her. It'd explain why she was clean and unrestrained, and how she'd gotten to the crime scene. So, she'd fallen unconscious, her foster father had brought her back home, cleaned her up, undone the restraints, and handed her off. Agent Booth and Doctor Saroyan had taken her with them to the crime scene - which seemed odd, but maybe they hadn't had time to drop her somewhere before going to work? They'd brought her in with them to keep an eye on her, and then she'd woken up.

Why had they bought her? Stress relief seemed the most likely answer. Working in law enforcement would take its toll. Being an FBI agent, Agent Booth might be able to monitor the investigation if she was ever discovered missing and keep them from coming under suspicion. It'd also explain why Doctor Saroyan had asked her the date and insisted on giving her a check-up - to make sure she wasn't harmed by her time unconscious and to know what they could do to her in her current state.

But then why had they been gentle? Why give her the choice of where to stay? Maybe they just wanted to give her hope so they crush it again later. One of her foster homes had played nice for weeks, waiting for her to let her guard down. She had finally, finally thought she was safe. And then that foster father had asked her to take out the trash, and refused to let her back in without her agreeing to do him a favor in return. She'd thought he was joking until he'd bent her over the couch. She'd pleaded as he undressed her, and then his wife walked in. At first, she'd felt a flicker of hope. And then she'd slapped her across the face and told her to be a good girl and settled on the couch to watch, kissing her husband over Brennan's head. After that night, they'd had her sleep on the floor in their bedroom.

Well. Now she wished she'd shot herself when she'd had the chance. There was no way they'd let her near anything she could use to kill herself now. She'd have to figure something out, and fast.