Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Zack first moves to the city, he lives in a one room apartment in a bad part of town and takes the bus in to work. It's dark when he leaves in the morning, it's dark when he gets back. There are three break-ins when he's not at home and, one morning while he's walking to the bus stop, some guy mugs him for the twenty-five dollars in cash and a credit card with a five hundred dollar limit that he has in his wallet.

Later that day, when he's sitting in the lab analyzing some bone fragments for Dr. Brennan, Hodgins comes up next to him and bends down so their heads are at the same height. "Okay, man, give it up."

Zack doesn't look up from his work. "Give what up?"

"What happened to your eye? You get in a bar fight or something?"

There is a contusion developing under Zack's left eye, and it's definitely a little swollen. Distractedly, he says, "I was mugged on the way to work this morning. I don't know why he hit me. I gave him my wallet willingly."

"Wait... This morning?"

"Yes."

"Zack. Why are you at work right now?"

Zack finally looks up, squinting to adjust normal vision after staring into a magnifying glass for so long. "I'm fully capable of working with a black eye."

"That's so incredibly not the point."

"Okay. What is the point."

Hodgins stares at him for a moment, then glances around before lowering his voice, "Look. I have an extra room."

"You're asking me to move in with you?"

"Not... Look, I live in a big place. We wouldn't even have to see each other if we didn't want to. I have a room over the garage that has access to a separate bathroom, kitchen, everything."

"You... have a room over your garage with a kitchen?" Zack pauses, then, "You have more than one kitchen?"

"Are you going to accept the offer or not?"

"I can't afford rent at a place like that."

"Are you kidding me right now?"

Zack furrows his brow at him. "No?"

Hodgins rolls his eyes. "I don't need rent. Landlords are scum anyway. I need you to live somewhere where you don't get mugged. Most of the time we get here and leave at the same time... I could give you a ride most days."

"Why are you doing this for me?"

Hodgins shrugs, standing upright again. "If you get killed, Dr. Brennan would have to get a new assistant. I just got used to you. I'm not in the mood of getting used to a whole different person. Imagine if he was even worse than you." He exaggerates a shudder, and as he walks away, he says, "Tell me when you have your things packed."

"Dr. Brennan is going to Guatemala," Zack says.

He's lived in the room over Hodgin's garage for a few months now. Hodgins just tells people they're roommates, and Zack doesn't say anything. In the mornings, when Hodgins gives him a ride to the Jeffersonian, Zack usually gets some extra sleep in the passenger seat--sitting upright because the seatbelt wouldn't function properly if he reclined.

He can't sleep this morning, though.

"Yeah, I know," Hodgins says. "Even if I didn't, you've mentioned it about five times in the last couple days."

"What do you think she expects me to do while she's gone?"

Hodgins glances at him. "Why do you--"

"Please keep your eyes on the road."

"Y'know, driving with you is like driving with an old woman." He sighs. "Why do you think Brennan expects you to do something specific while she's gone? She probably hasn't even thought about it."

"No..." Zack says, squinting through the windshield, trying not to think about the movement of the car. "No, she expects something. She always expects something."

"She probably expects you to work on your dissertation."

"Once I finish my dissertation, she'll have to get a new assistant."

Hodgins doesn't say anything. He reaches for the radio and turns on NPR.

Zack scrunches his nose. "You're trying to make me fall asleep."

"I'll settle for drowning you out with the soothing sounds of Morning Edition."

"I hate the news." Zack leans back against the headrest.

"Well, it's my car, so..."

"She probably wants me to research something new... some new technique, or--" Zack murmurs.

Hodgins sighs loudly and turns up the radio.

Angela drags Dr. Brennan and the rest of them out for dinner together before she leaves for Guatemala. Dr. Brennan keeps saying she doesn't see the purpose; she won't be gone for that long. Angela just keeps assuring her, "There's a purpose, sweetie." Zack isn't sure what she means by that, and Dr. Brennan doesn't seem to be either.

They all sit and talk for a long time after they've all finished their dinners. One by one, they all leave until it's just Zack and Hodgins, finishing up their last drinks.

"Did you get the answer you wanted?" Hodgins asks. Zack just looks at him blankly, so he adds, "All you did tonight was try to grill Dr. Brennan for information to figure out what she wants you to do while she's gone."

Zack frowns down at his drink. "I didn't say anything about that."

"You're not subtle. You kept asking her about studies and new research. Admit it, you were trying to figure out what she thought sounded the most interesting, so you could try to know more about it than she does when she gets back."

"It's worth a try," Zack says miserably.

"Lost cause, my friend. Totally a lost cause."

"She didn't even seem very interested in anything I brought up... 'n Angela kept interrupting me and giving me that look people give me, like..." He tries to mimic the look; wide eyes, tight lips, slightly threatening.

Hodgins stares at him for a moment, then starts to laugh. "Oh my god, you're actually drunk, aren't you?"

"What? No. I just had... um..."

"Kind of a lot. You usually stop after one. Here." Hodgins gets a pen out of his pocket and begins to move it back and forth in front of Zack's face.

Zack follows the pen with his eyes instinctively at first, then glares past the pen at Hodgins. "Are you trying to perform a Horizontal Gaze Nystagmus test on me?"

"You are totally drunk. Although I admit, it's pretty impressive you can still talk like that when you're drunk."

"It's 'cause I'm not drunk. Intoxication impedes rational thought, and I... I don' like it."

"Whatever you say. C'mon. Let's get you home."

Hodgins slides out from the booth and holds out a hand to help Zack up. Zack ignores it at first, but when he starts to get to his feet, he finds himself grasping Hodgins' forearm to keep himself steady.

"Very sober," Hodgins says, grinning as he guides him out to the car. He opens the passenger side door for him. "After you."

Zack glares at him vaguely, but slumps down into the car. He's still fiddling with his seatbelt when Hodgins gets into his side of the car and starts the ignition. It finally clicks into place while Hodgins is pulling out of the restaurant parking lot. Zack leans against the window. The glass is cool against his forehead. He's almost drifted into a light sleep when he hears Hodgins chuckling.

"What're you laughing at?" Zack asks without opening his eyes.

"I'm laughing at you, you idiot. So upset about Dr. Brennan leaving you for a little while that you get drunk at dinner."

Zack lifts his head to argue, but it's a mistake. He immediately leans his head against the window again.

"Do not throw up in my car," Hodgins says sharply.

"'m not going to throw up," Zack mutters, even though he's not sure that's true.

"Here..." He turns on the radio on low volume. He can barely hear the voices of some NPR book review. "Get a little sleep until we get home."

Zack wants to tell him he doesn't need sleep, but he just closes his eyes.

When he opens them again, Hodgins is bending over him, shaking his shoulder. Zack looks around blearily. It takes him a moment to realize they're in Hodgins' garage.

"Good morning," Hodgins says smirking.

"It's not morning."

"Wow, I guess intoxication didn't impede your rational thought afterall. You going to let me help you to your room?"

Zack is quiet for a moment. He remembers the broken neck and pelvis of a skeleton he examined when he was first training under Dr. Brennan. That person had died because they took a fall on a staircase, probably intoxicated.

"Yes," he says.

"Not even going to argue with me anymore? You must be out of it."

"Just being rational," Zack says.

Hodgins helps him to his feet, helps him up the stairs, pushes open the bedroom door for him. Zack shrugs off the button-up shirt he's wearing over his t-shirt, but that's it before he collapses onto his mattress.

"You planning to sleep in your jeans?" Hodgins asks.

Zack just grunts and pushes his face into his pillow. He hears Hodgins walk away, then return. He drops Zack's wastebasket next to the bed.

"Just in case," he says.

"'m not going to throw up." The pillow muffles Zack's voice, so he turns his head. "I didn't mean to drink that much. I just lost track."

"I know. I won't tell anybody. You held up pretty well until everyone else was gone anyway."

"Mmm," is all Zack's able to manage.

"Let me tell you something before you pass out," Hodgins says. He reaches over Zack to pull the blanket over him. "Stop trying so hard to impress Dr. Brennan. Just do what you do. That's enough."

Zack peers up at Hodgins from his pillow. Hodgins is looking down at him with a half-smile on his face and Zack notices, for the first time, that his eyes are very, very blue. He's not sure why that seems to matter. He's not sure why he's got a warm feeling blooming in his chest. Maybe his rational thought is more impaired than he realized.

"You're just saying that 'cause..." Zack lets the sentence drifts off. He doesn't know how to finish it.

Hodgins laughs, shaking his head. "Goodnight, Zack."

"Wait," Zack says.

"Yeah?"

"You really don't want Dr. Brennan to get a different assistant?" he asks. "'Cause you said that before I moved in."

"Yeah, I remember."

"So..."

"Go to sleep, Zack," Hodgins says.

Zack closes his eyes. He can hear Hodgins flip the light off and softly shut the door. When he sleeps, he dreams of blue.

Chapter Text

Hodgins is analyzing the particulates they got from the remains while Zack watches. Hodgins used to get annoyed when Zack would watch him work, but at some point he seemed to have given up on telling Zack to give him some space.

"Y'know it's kinda weird..." Hodgins says, his voice distant.

Zack peers over his shoulder, trying to see what's 'kinda weird."

"Not this," Hodgins pulls back from the microscope to face Zack and crosses his arms. "This is pretty normal. Boring actually. He was clean when he died. No, what's weird is how we all suddenly trust Booth."

Zack narrows his eyes. "How so?"

"How is it weird or how do we trust him?"

"Both."

"Okay... It's weird because he's FBI, former military, conservative, thinks we're speaking a different language if we use words more complicated than 'bone' and 'dirt'. Not traditionally the kind of guy who's big on supporting the sciences. Not to mention, if we were in high school, he'd definitely be the guy giving us swirlies."

"If the rest of you were in high school, I would be in elementary."

Hodgins rolls his eyes. "You think that'd stop him from giving you a swirly? Look at you."

Zack glances down at himself as if he's confused, but he knows what Hodgins means. He's the kind of guy who gets bullied.

"I'm just saying it's weird. We all get edgy when they bring in some other FBI agent, but we trust Booth? I mean, it makes sense for you. You love authority."

Zack draws back. This time, he really is confused. "What do you mean? I don't love authority."

"Oh yes you do," Hodgins says, grinning in that malevolent sort of way he does when he can tell he's getting under Zack's skin. "You're obsessed with what Dr. Brennan thinks about you. I wonder what you did with yourself before you started spending all of your time trying to find ways to impress her."

"That's because she's a brilliant scientist. It has nothing to do with authority."

"I'm a brilliant scientist. You don't try to impress me."

Zack is quiet for a moment. His impulse is to say that yes, he does try to impress Hodgins. Instead, he says, "Dr. Brennan is my mentor. It's not the same. And I trust Booth because he seems to value the work we do, even though he obviously doesn't understand it. Most people don't understand it."

"So you admit you trust him." Hodgins shakes his head, returning to his microscope. "Oh, Zack. You are so naive."

"He wants to solve murders. That's a noble cause."

"Noble." Hodgins scoffs. "Just wait until we run into a case he doesn't want to solve. I promise you, it's all politics. If you knew what I know, maybe you'd actually listen to me once in a while."

Zack opens his mouth to argue, but he sees Dr. Brennan approaching. She'll want to know what they've found while she was gone.

"I hate paperwork. There was less paperwork before we started working with the FBI," Hodgins says.

Zack does not respond.

"Now I have to explain why we used Jeffersonian resources to build a bomb. I mean, it helped them solve the case. Plus, I was basically an accessory to an illegal search and seizure. Shouldn't that be what I have to answer for right now?"

"Why did Angela comment on the kind of muffin Booth's girlfriend was eating?"

Hodgins stops what he's doing, turns in his chair, and stares at Zack. "What are you talking about?"

"Angela said Booth's girlfriend was eating a low-fat muffin, which led her to the conclusion that she's insecure in their relationship."

"I remember what Angela said. Why are you bringing it up?"

"Because Angela already left," Zack explains. "And you're the only person around who might explain to me what she meant. And then I can go back to not speaking to you."

"You're not speaking to me?"

"You killed my beetles."

A pause. Then Hodgins laughs. "You're not seriously mad at me because I killed a few beetles. It's, like, part of what I do, man."

"You enjoyed killing them," Zack points out. "Why did she mention the muffin?"

"It's a confidence thing. Sometimes people go on diets or work out or whatever if they feel insecure," Hodgins says dismissively. "Also, for the record, I didn't enjoy killing them. I enjoyed making fun of you for being upset about a handful of beetles that'd eat your face off if you let them."

"Is that why you work out so much?"

Hodgins narrows his eyes. "So you're not even going to say anything about your weird attachment to flesh-eating beetles?"

"Because you're insecure about your height," Zack says, lifting his eyebrows.

"Y'know what? I don't need to talk to you anymore."

"Good."

Hodgins turns back to his paperwork. He manages to focus on it for about half a minute before he adds, "And if you're so mad at me, maybe you can get your own ride home."

Zack doesn't say anything.

It's about an hour later. Hodgins gets up to head for the Jeffersonian's garage, and Zack hurries after him. Hodgins hits the button on his key fob, and the doors click. Zack is a little relieved when Hodgins doesn't stop him from getting into the passenger side.

They make it about halfway back to Hodgins' house when Hodgins finally says, "You're not really this angry about some beetles, are you?"

"They serve an important ecological purpose."

"Hey, I'm the bug guy. I know that."

"They're not just disposable."

"Okay, but... Zack, it was probably less than twenty of them. You have hundreds."

Zack takes a deep breath through his nose. "They're dead because they cleaned those bones for us. I put them in there. They were just doing what they're supposed to do."

"I cannot believe this." Hodgins scoffs, shaking his head. "Half the time, I'm pretty sure if one of us--your actual human colleagues--caught on fire in the middle of the lab, you'd barely notice. Much less care. But you're getting upset about this?"

Zack stares forward at the rear lights of the car in front of them. He can imagine the car suddenly skidding to a stop, Hodgins car slamming into the back of it, the last moments of their lives being a jumble of sound and light, then sudden, inescapable nothingness.

"I would notice," Zack says.

"Sure you would. Maybe Dr. Brennan. You don't even listen to anyone except her. Do you even remember what I was trying to talk to you about when you asked about that stupid muffin?"

Paperwork. Working with the FBI. The bomb prototype. Illegal search and seizure, Zack thinks.

He doesn't say anything.

"You're worried about your beetles," Hodgins says the words with surprising force. "A real person is dead because we helped the FBI today."

Zack blinks at him, then looks back out at the road. "He was a terrorist. More people would be dead if we didn't help."

"Maybe." Hodgins shrugs a shoulder. "Or maybe he wouldn't have gone through with it. Maybe if we'd figured it out sooner, Booth could've stopped him some other way. Or maybe... something else, I don't know. We can moralize it all we want; someone died today because of us."

"You're being irrational."

"You really want to talk about who's being irrational right now?" Hodgins is gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Look, I'm sorry I made fun of you. I didn't know you were really upset."

Zack swallows. His throat is dry. "I'm... sorry you feel weird about helping the FBI."

Hodgins chuckles unhappily. "Yeah, well. I'll get over it."

"I'll get over my thing too."

Hodgins drives for a while, quiet but not the same kind of quiet as before. The tension is gone now. It just seems like he's thinking. When he comes to a stoplight, he looks at Zack. "What were their names?" he asks. "Y'know, the beetles. You said you named them."

"I didn't see all of the ones you took," Zack says. "But one of them was Martha."

"Martha," Hodgins says. He's smiling, and Zack isn't sure if he's amused or mocking. He decides to believe the former.

"All the ones with dull brown stripes are named Martha. The ones with a reddish horizontal stripe are Bill. There are a lot of Bills, so you probably had a few of them too."

"Well... rest. in peace, Martha and various Bills. Your sacrifice wasn't in vain." He gives a half-hearted salute before the light turns green.

Chapter Text

Zack hurries through the Jeffersonian doors and into the lab. His hair is still damp from the shower. He's jittery and wired and... happy? Is he happy?

Dr. Brennan says, "You're late, Zack."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan," he says. His voice sounds weird. He clears his thoat. "It won't happen again."

She just furrows her brow a little and nods. She's disappointed in him. It's a counterbalance to his mood, but it doesn't make him less jittery. Just a different kind of jittery.

Dr. Brennan has some unidentified remains she wants him to look at, over ten years old, not an active case or anything. She'll want his preliminary analysis by the end of the day. She doesn't say that he needs to get it done to make up for being late, but she doesn't have to. He knows.

So, he's piecing together a very fragmented skeleton, tired but focused, when Hodgins pops in and stands across from him at the light table.

"You didn't come back to the house last night."

Zack has a shard of what he's fairly sure is from the ulna, but he's not sure exactly what part. "No," he says, distantly.

"And you were late this morning."

Probably close to the styloid process...

Hodgins rounds the table and leans so that he's in the corner of Zack's line of sight. "So...?"

Zack places the shard of bone and frowns at it. He's not sure. "So, Dr. Brennan's not happy with me, and I need to get this right."

"I was not asking about-- Seriously, you had a date with an actual living human woman, who has inexplicably dated you multiple times without running off, and you didn't come home, and you were late to work."

Finally, Zack looks directly at Hodgins. "You're asking if we had sex."

Hodgins makes a face. "I mean, normal people don't really say it that--"

"We did. Can I get back to work now?"

"Y'know, the way this is supposed to go is, you say it went well, and I say how well, and you say something like really well. And we kind of laugh about it."

Zack narrows his eyes. "That seems needlessly vague."

"Sometimes vague isn't a bad thing."

"It... went well," Zack says. "Now, can I get back to work?"

Hodgins rolls his eyes. "Y'know, you're not the easiest guy to be friends with."

Zack shrugs and picks up another bone shard.

Zack flips open his phone for the fifth time during his lunch break. No messages. He shuts it and shoves it back in his pocket. He takes two more bites of food, a drink of water, then reaches into his pocket again.

"You know phones make noise when someone calls or texts you, right?" Hodgins asks.

Zack flips open his phone for the sixth time during his lunch break. "Yes."

Hodgins sighs loudly. "So, just put it in your pocket, and when it makes a noise, that's when you take it out."

"Sometimes I briefly lose signal, and calls go directly to voicemail, and it doesn't ring." No messages. Zack puts his phone back in his pocket.

"Okay, let's make a deal. You don't check your phone again until the end of lunch."

Zack frowns. "That isn't a deal. A deal requires an exchange of some kind."

"How about you don't check your phone again until the end of lunch, and I don't strangle you?"

"... That is, technically, a deal."

They both eat quietly for a while. Zack fidgets with his fork. He's sure he can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket.

Hodgins, still seeming annoyed even though Zack is doing what he told him to, rolls his eyes. "Look, you need to stop being desperate. She'll call you back, okay? You need to stop wanting it so badly. Maybe talk to a couple other girls in the meantime, just in case."

Zack narrows his eyes. "Just in case what?"

"Just in case she doesn't call back."

"You said she would."

"Okay." Hodgins got up from the table. "We're not talking about this anymore."

"It's been two weeks," Zack says.

Hodgins frowns at him. "Two weeks since what?"

"Since I came to work late."

"Oh."

"Is it desperate to call again now?"

"Look, I don't know. Maybe you should move on."

"Move on to what? I don't date five hundred different women like you do."

"Maybe you should try it."

Zack presses his lips together. Sometimes, he doesn't know if Hodgins is trying to be cruel, or if he's doing it by accident. Either way, he doesn't ask again.

Ask your friends if you have any.

Zack is sitting in the booth at Wong Fu's, listening to Hodgins and Brennan have a spirited discussion about the Patriot Act that Zack is half following. He's pretty sure Hodgins is trying to talk about it loudly enough to annoy Booth, who's sitting at the bar pretending they don't exist.

Zack keeps thinking about what Naomi said. And about what Angela said.

It's in your intentions and how much you care about the other person.

He'd dismissed it at first. He's used to people just saying what they think will make him stop asking questions, and it sounds like another platitude. Maybe it is. Maybe he should listen to the second part of her advice. It's more actionable, more practical, but...

"Hodgins."

Hodgins finishes a point about the importance of privacy and how being innocent doesn't mean you don't have anything to hide, then he looks at Zack. "Don't tell me you agree with her. You don't have to agree with her just because you're her assistant."

"I don't care about the Patriot Act. I need to get out."

"How do you not care? It affects--"

"I need to make a phone call," Zack says.

Hodgins stops, and his expression changes. Almost as if, for a moment, he's forgotten his argument. "You sure about that?"

Zack nods.

"Let him go make his call," Angela says, grinning.

Reluctantly, Hodgins slid out of the booth. "If you come back in here looking sad, I don't want to have to talk to you about it."

"Hodgins," Angela says sharply, then she turns her attention to Zack. "If you come back sad, we'll talk to you about it, sweetie. But you won't, because it'll be fine, right?"

Zack shrugs, then he gets up. As he's headed out to the sidewalk to call Naomi, Hodgins calls after him, "Just remember, the FBI's probably listening in!"

Zack hurries through the Jeffersonian doors and into the lab. His hair is still damp from the shower. He's tired but for the first time in a month, he feels... okay. Maybe he feels good.

He's not late this time, but it's close, and it earns him a look from Dr. Brennan. When she's out of the room, it's Angela who edges closer to him while Hodgins seems to be focused on his work.

"So, looks like your call went well. You never came back to dinner."

"Naomi agreed to let me come over."

Angela smiles and gives him a friendly shove on the arm. "Way to go, Zack!" She walks off toward her office with her head held high. On her way, she leans toward Hodgins. "I told you I gave him good advice."

Hodgins huffs a sigh, then looks over at Zack. "That line she gave you worked?"

"No," Zack says.

Hodgins furrows his brow. He gets up and moves closer to Zack. "Did... you just lie to Angela?" he asks, an amused glint in his eye.

"Not exactly. I did take her advice. Just... not the advice she thought I took." Zack shrugs a shoulder.

"So, did you stay over with Naomi or not?"

"I did. But... it didn't 'go well'?" Zack frowns. "I mean, it did, but according to your rules of communicating on this topic, I have to say it didn't."

"I'm not sure I even want to ask what you're talking about."

"I'm not supposed to say we didn't have sex directly, right? So I have to say it didn't go well."

Hodgins peers at him. "So you didn't have sex with her?"

"Now you're changing the rules."

"It's not rules, it's..." Hodgins holds up his hands, frustrated. "Okay, just. We're already in this conversation. You may as well say it how you say it."

Zack nods, feeling vaguely satisfied. "I went to her place. We talked about how we both really want to be friends. We had sex a month ago, because it seemed like the next thing we were supposed to do."

"Sounds like she let you down easy this time at least..."

"I was the one who said we should just be friends."

Hodgins raises an eyebrow. "You obsessed over this girl for a month, and now you told her you want to be her friend."

"Angela said sex is about intentions and how much you care."

"Is that what she said?"

"One of the things."

"And that's why you decided you just wanted to be friends with Naomi?"

"Sort of. Yeah."

"Y'know..." Hodgins let out a breath. Zack can tell he doesn't want to talk about this, yet he continues. "Sex can also just be about having fun with someone you like. It doesn't have to mean anything."

"I think it does for Naomi. I think that's why she was mad at me."

"That's... a surprisingly mature way to take that."

"Also I think she might like women," Zack looks up thoughtfully at nothing in particular. "She said she felt like she could sleep with me because I'm 'safe.'"

"Okay, we've ventured right back into topics I'm not touching with a ten foot pole, so I'm going to go... do my job."

Hodgins backs up a few steps before about-facing and going back to what he was doing before. Zack wants to let it go--part of him is as relieved as Hodgins probably is that this conversation is over--but there's one more thing.

"Don't tell Angela," Zack says. "She seemed... happy about me and Namoi."

Hodgins shakes his head, chuckling to himself. "Sure. I won't tell her."