Shrink

14

Regrets were flurrying in my mind, especially not having run out of limbo the second Sweets walked in, but what was done was done, and I was going to fucking Alaska.
My small apartment seemed so homey in comparison to a place that was so close to my native Canada. As I tossed clothes into my bag, all I could think was, I almost kissed Sweets.
When both him and Booth left, having agreed that one of them would pick me up at 7 to leave, I stood there breathless for 20 minutes, questioning what in the seventh realm of Dante's Inferno just happened.
Pacing back and forth from my bed to my front door, I was desperately hoping beyond hope that I wouldn't be alone in a car with Sweets. I'd take Doctor Brennan and Booth any day.
Why did Sweets have to go?
I sighed and flopped down on my bed for the trillionth time.
My knapsack was packed with several days worth of clothes. When I had gotten home, I had thrown off my work clothes angrily and put on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, and then immediately fell into researching how far it was to Alaska.
"Two days?!" I nearly shrieked.
Before I could even begin to imagine the implications, I heard a knock at my door.
"Please be Booth, please be Booth, please be Booth," I frantically whispered to myself.
Before I had even opened the door, though, I knew it was Sweets. I don't know how, I just did.
He looked surprisingly casual, standing in my doorway wearing jeans and an FBI issued hoodie. He even had a carton of drinks in one hand.
"Hey," he said, to which I responded, "Hi," before exclaiming, frustrated, "two days?!?"
He smiled sympathetically, and I could feel the tension sliding off my joints.
"I figured you'd need sleep, so I'll drive first, and we can take shifts," Sweets said.
I followed him downstairs to his car that was parked outside my apartment building.
Chucking my bag into the trunk with his, I took shotgun.
I could do this.
I was inwardly shaking myself and reciting over and over in my head, everything is fine.
I did this all the way until the interstate.
***
My green tea was long gone by the time Sweets pulled over to switch drivers, and I sighed as I climbed in behind the wheel.
"Something wrong?" Sweets asked, yawning.
"No, it's just,..." I said, fidgeting with the mirrors and the seats. "remind me why we're driving two days rather than taking a plane for a few hours?"
Sweets' tired eyes closed as I pulled away from the shoulder.
"To put it in Hodgins' terms," he said slowly, his voice gravelly with sleep. "Uncle Sam couldn't afford it."
"But we work for the government."
At that point, Sweets had dropped off into a deep slumber, his head lolled to one side, his lips parted slightly.
I drove through pastures and cities, only stopping for gas and bathroom breaks, until finally, I couldn't keep my eyes opened.
Sleep hung heavily on my limbs, and I had to keep blinking to focus on the road.
Pulling over near a wooded area, which was basically what we'd been driving through for the past 8 hours, I slumped against the wheel.
"Sweets," I groaned, not looking up.
I didn't hear a change in his breathing, so I assumed he was still asleep.
Sitting up painfully, I shook his shoulder.
He groaned as well, and I could already tell it would be a rough ride for both of us.
***
"I can't do this anymore, I need to sleep in a bed," sighed Sweets after we'd left the Canadian border hours behind us.
I'd taken to staying awake with him to make it less painful for both of us, but it really was no help.
"But we need to be there in 18 hours," I sighed, curling into a ball in the passenger seat.
"Whatever, Brennan and Booth will survive without us for another day."
He pulled off the highway and into a small shantytown, drifting along the streets like spectres.
It was barren here.
We finally found a motel that was somewhat suitable and had a sign that read "No bed bugs!".
"Congratulations," mocked Sweets, pulling the keys out of the ignition. "you've earned a free one-night stay in the luxurious...Wallow Motel. Lovely."
"Oh thank you ever so much," I chuckled cynically, and proceeded to stumble out of the car to retrieve the bags Sweets had already grabbed.
I followed him into the run-down and grubby lobby, where we requested for two single rooms.
"None," said the clerk.
"One room, double bed?" Sweets asked hopefully, the deep purple beneath his eyes bringing out the red of the lips he had trapped between his teeth.
"Nada."
"Single with a couch?"
"Zilch."
"Does this guy have any other words in his vocabulary besides synonyms for the word 'no'?" I murmured irritatedly.
Sweets grinned before readdressing the clerk.
He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Queen bed?" he asked with a sort of lacklustre.
The question filled the air with a familiar crackle of sparks.
As the greasy clerk tapped away at his keyboard, I stared at my shoes. I'd gotten new shoes for this trip. New chuck's to replace my decrepit ones.
"Right-o, room 12," chimes the clerk brightly.
Both Sweets and I sighed, before turning to look at each other.
"Are you good with that?" he asked, his brow furrowed worriedly.
I could see the sleep about to completely repossess his features. I could deal. One night.
"Yeah. You?"
He paused, pensive, and nodded as a yawn stretched his red lips wide.
"Enjoy your stay!" crowed the concierge.
I followed Sweets back outside and we found room 12 to be right outside a fenced-off, peeling and cratered green pool.
With some fussing with the rusty key, we found the room to be one actually smaller-than-queen bed, a bathroom that I dared not use, and a small desk.
Out of curiosity, I opened a drawer and withdrew a bible. Always bibles in these places. Ironic.
Once I'd replaced it and slid the drawer closed, I turned to find Sweets loosening his tie and tossing off his coat on the floor, before collapsing on his side of the minuscule bed. It was so tiny, his feet hung off the edge. I sighed, listening to him snore quietly, and pulled his shoes off for him before kicking off mine, and tuckering in beside him. I don't remember falling asleep.