Lonely. Lonely did not cover the intense anguish that seemed to have moved permanently into his heart since the departure of his beloved Bones and Christine. Barely able to think straight he had spent the last month either filled with more rage than even he knew he possessed at the ridiculousness and unfairness of the entire situation or so depressed that the gambling sometimes seemed like it would make his problems go away.
It was only the constant reminder that she loved him, that while they had an amazing daughter together, she was not the sole reason that they were together. She loved him. He loved her. Them. He had to get them back. He would get them back. He knew that he would not rest until Bones and Christine we back with him, safe. Thinking about them being on the run nearly broke him, he wasn't there to protect them. As much as he trusted Max to take care of them...he needed to protect them, they were his family. And right now, he felt as though he were failing them miserably.
Wandering around the empty house, it felt almost as though he didn't belong. Without his children and Bones, it was not a home, simply an empty house. Booth walked from room to room, attempting to calm the myriad of thoughts plaguing his overtired mind. He sat himself down in her office chair, such good lumbar support, and stared at her wall of anthropological books. He could see One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish tucked in alongside the thick anatomy and anthropology texts. It very nearly brought a smile to his lips. "This has no real facts about fish" she had said, "but it is cute." He got up, his fingers tracing the red spine of the beloved Doctor Seuss book as he let his mind wander. He didn't pick it up though; instead his heart guided his hand to the one that it knew would provide him with some comfort.
...organic compounds decomposing changes the appearance of plant life.
He imagined her voice reciting this anthropological jibber-jabber to him at a crime scene, and just for a moment he felt relief.