AU: No Daisy, Different past, 24 years old, no adoption or foster parents his bio parents didn't die, Vincent Nigel-Murray will not die. No one left for a year.

Set in Season 6.

Lance Sweets had a past, and present.

He didn't talk about it to anyone.

And he knew it was a bad idea, really, he WAS a therapist.

But he found it was harder than he thought.

If they thought he was going to talk about the scars and wounds hidden from view on his legs and stomach and arms, they were crazy.

But of course, the team, all of them, were going to the pool, and they wanted him to come.

And of course he couldn't come in a suit or even a short sleeved shirt and long pants, though his arms would alert them anyways. Oh no...

*Real Story*

Lance was eating at Temperance's and Booth's favorite little restaurant when Hodgins and Angela came in.

It was morning. Sweets smiled at them. "How are you?" He asked, his cheerful mask on high, but inside he cringed.

He wanted to be left alone.

Angela started, "Good. Uh, we're all going to a swimming pool tomorrow since it'll be Saturday, and we'll be off of work, and we were wondering if you'd like to come."

Sweets felt his facade start to crumble, and his smile faltered. "The pool? As in... Swimming trunks and chlorine and people and swimming trunks?"

" You said that twice, but yes." Hodgins said this time.

Sweets smile was fully gone and he looked sick.

"I-I have to g-go." He stumbled to the boys' bathroom and as soon as he got to the first stall he hurled all of his breakfast into the toilet.

The door opened after.

"Hey man, you ok?" Hodgins asked.

The young guy in front of him took a shaky breath.

"It's only been 6 years." He stopped, then closed his eyes.

Hodgins blinked. "Since?"

Sweets looked into his eyes and Hodgins saw the pain and fear in his eyes. "Since I should have left."

Sweets stood on shaky legs, and almost tipped over, until Hodgins reached out and grabbed his upper arm to keep Sweets standing.

"What do you mean?" Sweets looked down, then weakly tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

Hodgins let go.

Sweets started to take of his shirt.

"What are you- oh my god." Hodgins whispered the last 3 words in disbelief.

Sweets' shirt was off and there were scars and almost fresh wounds all over his arms, chest, and stomach. "I can't leave them."

He took the right lip of his pants at his hip and pulled it down slightly. There was a scar, congruent with someone taking a knife and taking a chunk out. "I've tried. It's a 6 year old scar."

"Who hurt you like this?" Hodgins asked, voice hard.

Sweets pulled the side of his pants back up and looked away, biting his lip and close to tears.

"Who, Lance? Please, tell me who." Hodgins pleaded.

"Remember how I said I still live with my parents?"

That's all he needed to say.

All Hodgins needed to understand who hurt him.

And all Hodgins needed for a reason to hug the younger doctor.

Then he noticed month old welts and whip marks on his back.

Hodgins let him go and turned him around to get a better look.

"No, H-Hodgins..." Sweets protested weakly. Jack ran a soft hand over the raised welts. "They whipped you." Jack stated, whispering.

Lance shuddered.

"They... Whipped... You... Their child..." Jack stopped running his hand over Lance's back.

"They-WE... Used to own a farm."

Jack's hands flew over his mouth as he gasped.

"They used a cattle whip." Jack was still whispering.

Lance was close to tears again as he nodded, eyes closed. "We have to tell Angela."

Lance's eyes snapped open.

"No..."

"We have to tell Booth and Brennan!"

"No."

"We have to tell-"

"NO!" Lance's loud voice cut Jack off.

He closed his mouth as Lance turned to him.

"It'll just make it worse." He was scared, and he stared at Jack with watery eyes.

"They might hurt you. I'm not allowed to be happy. That's why I never went after Daisy."

Hodgins didn't know what to say. "Where's your newest wound?" Lance knew what he really meant was, 'Show me where they hurt you last.'

He took his pants and pulled them down.

There was even more scars on his legs, but what stood out was white gauze. "It happened yesterday." He took the gauze off his thigh and Hodgins stared, wanting to cry so badly.

There were lines of dried blood, where glass had been before he dug it out. There were even fresher whip marks, from yesterday, as he said. They were worse and covering the front and back of both of his legs.

"Do they...?" Jack didn't really have to ask.

"Rape me? On a daily basis, or at least every other day." Tears were were springing out of his eyes as he put back on his pants, shirt, and gauze.

Not in that order, of course.

"At least Angela." Jack pleaded. Lance hesitated. "Not here."

Jack looked relieved. "At my house- tonight. We'll make you dinner. I'll let you tell her."

Sweets nodded, going to the door.

"And Hodgins."

Jack looked up, and Sweets bit his lip.

"Thank you." Sweets left the bathroom, and Jack followed a few seconds after.

"What was that? You've been in there almost an hour." Angela said, then added, "Is he ok?"

Jack shook his head, staring at the door. "He's coming over tonight for dinner. He has something to tell you."

*Later, at the Jeffersonian*

"This victim has broken philanges congruent with someone taking their hand and crushing it in his or her hand."

Temperance Brennan, genius anthropologist, stared at the newest victim of murder she was given.

Hodgins came in, trudging in with no happiness whatsoever. Brennan looked up.

"Hodgins, are you ok?" Booth walked up at that point, but Jack didn't notice.

"Why don't you ask Lance that?" He was angry, but they could tell it wasn't towards Brennan.

"Is he ok?" Booth asked.

Jack looked to him. "No." He said quietly. "And I don't think I'm ok, either."

He took a shaky breath and went to his bug lab.

Booth looked into Brennan's eyes. There was something seriously wrong. With their mutual agreement, they both nodded and went into Hodgins' lab.

"What's wrong with Dr. Sweets?" Brennan asked.

Jack looked up with lazy blue eyes.

"It's so horrifying."

They blinked.

"What is?" Booth asked.

Jack shook his head. Seeley gritted his teeth. "What. Is?" He asked, voice hard.

"I promised... He-He was so scared, that if anyone else found out, the chance of someone getting hurt got higher..." He took a shaky breath.

"Come to my house. Tonight. Hide while he tell Ange. I can't let this happen anymore." Jack closed his eyes.

"Why can't you tell us?" Jack looked up at Booth. "You need to see for yourself."

He looked to Brennan now. "Like I did."

*Hodgins house, dinner*

Lance stood nervously at Hodgins' door, hand raised to knock.

His eye was swollen shut, one of his newest wounds.

Was he really going to tell Angela? He already said he would.

Oh, well, technically he didn't. He just said not at the diner.

But he wasn't going to play that card.

He knocked, and Angela answered.

"Oh, god, Sweets, what happened to your eye?" Angela reached up and Sweets turned away.

She stopped and let her hand drop.

Booth and Brennan watched and listened from a van near the big house.

It took awhile for Angela to agree and get bugs, the audio/video camera kind- on her person, but she saw how badly Hodgins thought this was needed, and she relented.

She would soon see why.

"Come on in." Angela moved out of the way.

Other than the bugs on Angela, there was some everywhere in the living room.

"I got all the workers to lea-" Hodgins stopped and stared at his eye.

"-ve. Wh-what happened?"

Sweets looked down. "Must've slipped and fell, clumsy me."

Hodgins knew he was lying, and so did everyone else.

"That was a lie!" Brennan stated, and Booth sighed. All he knew was that his eye had something to do with his secret. "I know, Bones. We all do."

Sweets looked at Hodgins.

"Go on." Jack coaxed lightly. "It's ok."

Sweets nodded, and started to take off his shirt.

"Sweets..." Angela whispered in disbelief.

Booth and Brennan gasped at the scars and wounds all over his upper body.

Jack was crying when he saw fresh whip marks on his chest.

Sweets hooked the right side of his pants and pulled it down slightly to show the scar.

"Show her the rest." Jack whispered.

Sweets took a deep breath and pulled his pants down, only in his boxers.

There were fresh hand marks all over his legs, already bruising, and already turning yellow at the edges.

The whip marks were still there, and there was one that made them all cry.

The whip mark was the worst because they repeatedly hit that one over and over, they criss crossed the whip over it, coming from his thigh to his stomach.

Under it was a scar, a word that had been carved into his skin: whore.

That's when they noticed the rest of them.

Insults and a name: Emily.

"Who's Emily?" Booth asked, coming in with Brennan.

Sweets gasped and pulled his pants up, grabbing his shirt.

"Wh- h-... Booth? Why are you- D-Dr. Brennan?!"

He took a step back and hit Hodgins. He cried out in pain and closed his eyes, biting his lip in an attempt to calm himself down.

"Sweets, are you ok?" Brennan asked.

His eyes snapped open.

"No. Why...?"

Brennan answered the unspoken question, though Jack shook his head no.

"Hodgins told us to watch with cameras so we can save you." Sweets turned to Jack.

"J-Jack? You betrayed me like that?"

Hodgins shook his head.

"I was trying to save you from your parents." He said softly.

Lance winced. "No, y-you... You just..." He looked at all of them in fear. "I-I gotta go."

Booth shook his head. "No, Sweets, wait-!"

But Lance was already out the door.

And then came his screaming, sending a chill down all of their spines.

They ran out and watched in horror, only 1 or 2 blocks away, 3 men beating on Lance.

They couldn't move.

But once one of them took his belt off they rushed forward, but they knew they weren't going to make it in time.

The buckle glinted in the streetlight.

And then it came down.