Bonding Over Bones (Dr Temperance "Bones" Brennan x fem!reader book)

Ch 13: Coming Out

You've got this, Y/N. You're good. Stop worrying. You're going to be fine. I told myself as I walked through the Jeffersonian's fiber glass double doors.

This was the day that Temperance and I had chosen to come out as a couple.

I was exceedingly nervous, partly because the people we were coming out to were not only my friends but also my co-workers and bosses, partly because of childhood trauma when it came to coming out, and partly because Brennan seemed so nonchalant about the whole endeavor.

I mean, I wanted to come out. I was just so paranoid. What would people say, what would they think, would they see me differently? Still, any prejudice I might have received was better than living a life in the shadows.

I was nothing but a ball of nerves as I walked into Brennan's office.

Breathe. I reminded myself. She'll be by your side the whole time. This thought only served to bring on another cascade of fears. Shit, what if she starts talking like a scientist out there? My mind reeled in horror at the thought of my girlfriend describing the reasoning for our relationship in anatomical terms.

"Y/N, you're here!" Temperance exclaimed, shaking me back to the present.

I jumped slightly at the sound of her voice as I shook off my distressing thoughts.

"Hey, Bones." I smiled slightly, the sight of her instantly brightening my mood.

She stood from her desk chair, striding over to me. I chuckled as she placed a kiss on my cheek.

"I'm happy to see you, too." I wittily replied, earning a sarcastic scoff from her.

Before long, however, the fun passed, and the real anxiety set in.

"Let's sit." She suggested, sitting on her little couch.

I nodded, sitting next to her.

She inhaled deeply, her inner nervousness starting to show through her fearless façade.

I frowned slightly. There I was thinking that I was the only one who was worried. No, she clearly had doubts of her own.

"You okay?" I asked sympathetically, gingerly placing my hand on hers.

"Yes." She looked up, making eye contact with me. I sensed the feigned confidence in her eyes.

I sighed, smiling softly. She was so cute when she was hiding something.

"Bren, you can talk to me." I stated softly, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

She exhaled sharply, swallowing the nervous bulge in her throat.

She started speaking, her voice especially sharp and acute. "I am one of the highest ranking scientists in this facility. Although I'm not generally liked by the majority of my co-workers, I am respected by everyone in the Jeffersonian. I-"

Her voice faltered. I saw intense worry in her eyes. She went on with a cracking voice.

"I have a reputation to protect. And it's not that I care about what people say or think about me. I don't. I just..." She trailed off. Looking miserably into the distance.

I looked at her, taking it all in. Her worry, her anxiety. I felt it. But... there was something else. A feeling concealed deeply within her heart, so deep that she could not even fully access it.

When I figured out what it was, it hit me like a brick. It was an emotion I had been struggling with ever since I was a kid: Shame.

Shame. It had defined my life for years. I was twelve when I first realized I was gay. Initially, I felt firm in my identity. That was only until I began paying attention to the culture. It felt like every day I was hearing and seeing more and more homophobia in the world around me. Even in my own family, there were those who damned people like me to the very depths of hell, simply for being attracted to the same sex. This forced me to keep my sexuality a secret. This repression ate away at me throughout my teenage years, causing severe anxiety and depression. When I reached adulthood, I was partially liberated from the constant homophobia. Over time, I came out to certain trusted individuals (like Angela), but I never came out publicly. I just had too much trauma. Coming out was scary because I didn't want people to see me differently once they found out I was gay. My family had done me a worse disservice than anyone else in my life. They had implanted shame in my heart. For a large portion of my life, I felt shameful because I was gay. This internalized self-homophobia lasted for years, only having ended shortly before I began working at the Jeffersonian.