Snapshots

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I didn't create them, and I don't profit from them.

Author's Note: This idea came from a prompt (thanks, Jaime), I used two of the three words given - cell and chair. I hope to continue this periodically as moments in episodes inspire.

Chapter 1 - Transformation

Booth had been free for a few weeks. He and Bones were trying to sort things out and get back into a groove. But everything was different. The home he had put blood and sweat into for his family was gone. Bones had found a new home for them and had salvaged many things from the one they'd lost, but he felt off kilter. He needed to orient himself and he knew that was going to take some time. And when she'd told him that he was the one running, the one who had seemingly lost his grip on faith and love, he knew she was right. So he'd started running. Not running from faith or love, but running to find himself again.

With each footfall on the soft earth in the woods around their home, he felt like he was reconnecting with the world. He ran and the early morning fog of autumn seem to wrap him up in peace and he found himself praying and cursing and crying and then grieving the loss of the last few months and the loss of his friend. All those things that he needed to work through, things that Sweets would have pulled out of him eventually, he worked out in the early morning silence on these runs.

The first few times he'd gone out to run, it was because he'd woken up with a start, breathing hard until he realized he wasn't locked up in a cell. He needed to feel the freedom of the outdoors, something that he would never take for granted again. He'd whispered to Bones that he was going for a run, kissed her cheek and then sat in the chair in the corner of their bedroom and watched for a few minutes as she fell back to sleep and he slipped on his running shoes.

He stepped out the front door and just stood there for a few minutes taking in the stillness of the early morning. And then he ran.

The soft rolling hills around their home tucked in the woods led to a stream and then a school and further on a couple of weekend farms with horses grazing in the early morning light. This place that Bones had found for them was in such a peaceful setting and he relished the freedom of wide spaces and quiet. On those early morning runs he felt like he was the only one in the world and in those moments it felt good. Not that he wanted to be alone - he knew Bones and Christine would be at home starting their day when he returned - but that time spent alone in his thoughts pounding his fears and hurt and frustration into the ground as he ran became transformational.

He didn't run everyday, but he ran often.

He found that it was a form of therapy that he couldn't explain to anyone else and yet as time went on, it became obvious that something was slowly changing. He seemed to regain his inner strength and his agitation from being locked up unjustly for three months dissipated.

And he and Bones seemed to regain their footing. It was different than before. If he could have turned back time and change the course of those painful events he would have, but they had also found a depth in their relationship that only comes from walking through hard things together. And since they couldn't change the past, they went forward.

He wasn't running from faith and love any longer. He was running because it had made him free. And freedom was a beautiful thing.