A/N: While in search of a place to set up B&B for a little romance and conflict resolution, I came up with a weekend SCA camping event to start off the case of the day. To understand the context of the story and later developments, I've tried to provide a glimpse into the world of this medieval historical group and some of its popular activities.

This is not AU (although a little OOC for Brennan) but uses a missing person case from Brennan's past, the issue of PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) to explore the consequences of the end of Season 3 and Booth's revelation about his alcoholic father.

Disclaimer: The usual - don't own Bones etc, everything is fictional and any similarity to real persons is accidental...

Knight in the Woods

Chapter 1

At first glance, the Maryland valley campground looked ordinary enough on that Friday afternoon in July. A few tents and trailers had just arrived and were now surrounded by people setting up as quickly as possible so they could all get on with their weekend camping adventure. On closer inspection, the tents and enclosures were a lot more decorative and colourful than one might normally see at your local national park or KOA. By sundown that day, the site's sea of tents would look like an encampment right out of a King Arthur or Robin Hood movie.

They were all participants in a "Society for Creative Anachronism" event that had been held at the same place and date for over 20 years. The SCA had been the result of a medieval history student's graduation party in mid-1960's California. The group offered the unique experience of a life parallel to their own "mundane" existence within the quasi-medieval society based on pre-17th century Western culture. It was a welcome distraction for many and a lot of fun besides.

People wearing mostly (and not quite so) authentic medieval costumes greeted each other with bows, curtsies and gallant kisses on the hand. They had all gathered together to enjoy the fresh air and to wage a little harmless war. No one was exactly sure what the war was about but there was a rumour that the Queen's garden gnome had been kidnapped forcing the King to put out a call to fill the war chest with more chocolate chip cookies. As the unofficial 'coin of the realm", the cookies were needed for all manner of 'bribes' and securing the services of mercenary fighters.

Many would "die" this weekend, possibly more than once, but warriors all would find their way to some refreshment as they congratulated each other on battles well fought and to tel the ubiquitous "no shit there I was, that rhino-hiding bastard took 6 hacks from my halberd before he gave up a leg" type stories.

For one long-forgotten fallen warrior, the time had come to finally return to the world of harsh realities and the memory of past glories.

"Alaric, I know we haven't seen each other since Twelfth Night, but slow down," the attractive young girl said with a giggle and a toss of her long blond hair.

She grasped the hand of her eager companion and used her other hand to keep a firm grip on her long skirts to keep from tripping. Taking advantage of the hot and sunny afternoon, he pulled her along the narrow path through the thick woods a few minutes walk away from the campground. He hoped his camp mates would forgive his absence from the work of setting up their tents and pulling some long awaited lunch together.

"There's a nice spot over there, Elanna," he said looking back at her reassuringly and pointed in the direction they were now going. They had just left the security of the well-travelled path to cut through the woods to a sheltered little meadow visible in the distance through the trees

When they emerged from the tangle of bush, Alaric chose a grassy spot, sat down and pulled the girl down on top of him for a kiss. The thought occurred to him that he should have brought a blanket or his cloak to lay on. Elanna giggled between kisses while the low neckline of her dress threatened to release its captives to his delight.

One of the attractions Alaric enjoyed about the SCA was the great variety of alluring and often revealing fashions that were considered acceptable attire for many women. He had seen everything from the form-revealing (despite being covered head to toe) dresses suitable for presentation at Court, almost not there belly dancer costumes and even Xena the warrior princess style studded leather outfits. Authenticity mavens probably frowned on Xena fashions but he didn't care if it was easy to look at. The low cut peasant wench costume like the one worn by the young woman presently occupying his attention was definitely one of his favorites.

Elanna shifted to find a more comfortable position and reached into the grass to lift herself up off Alaric's chest. Alaric gazed into her eyes and thought that his usual bad luck with the opposite sex was about to change for the better. To his dismay, he saw her flushed face change from a teasing smile to apprehensive puzzlement. Her hand had inadvertently made contact with a odd object in the tall thatch. She raised her hand to inspect what she held.

Alaric's shocked consciousness registered two screaming voices, one of which he recognized with a moment's delay as his own. His eyes focused on the object in Elanna's hand. Held with her fingers through the eye sockets was a very real human skull, soon to be unceremoniously dumped on the ground.

Two hours later, the secluded meadow and site of the interrupted tryst now contained a kneeling Brennan examining the remains. On the nearby path, gathered a small crowd that included the local police, the two young discoverers of the remains and Booth. The remote location and the thick woods had so far kept most curious onlookers from the campground from getting too close to the find. With a bit of luck, most were still occupied with setting up their campsites and had not yet heard the news other than knowing something was up considering it is hard to hide a couple of police cars and other official looking vehicles.

After a few minutes, Booth approached Brennan in case she had anything yet to report. He was careful to keep his distance lest he hear the expected reprimand for treading too close to and probably right on evidence.

Brennan looked up at him as he came closer and made him wait a couple of minutes more before she said, "This appears to be a male, 25-35 years of age clothed in what appears to be SCA armour for a heavy fighter with some pieces missing. He has probably been here for about 15 - 20 years."

Booth noticed an odd expression of sadness on her face as she gave her assessment. He usually heard only dry clinical appraisals of the scenes he and his partner attended.

"Bones, what's wrong?" Booth asked, becoming concerned by her reaction. For the past few months ever since the fake funeral incident and Zach's betrayal as Gormogon's apprentice, their personal relationship had been a little rocky even though work continued as efficiently as ever.

Booth had been hoping they could regain their former level of trust, but he knew he had to take things slow. Things were better than they were at first, but there were still some awkward moments. He had become increasingly concerned about her though after he noticed that Bones would occasionally look off into space for a couple of minutes, and then look up at him as if reassuring herself that he was there. To cover up her moment of inattention, she would start up a conversation repeating some point of their case at the time.

He was fairly certain that she was experiencing flashbacks. In the space of a few short weeks, she had dealt with her father's trial for murdering Booth's boss and acquittal, Booth's shooting, the death of his assailant by her own hand at the scene, the trauma of his faked death and his subsequent resurrection. The situation with Zach was just one more source of pain and even for one as 'compartmentalized" as his partner, that would be some roller coaster ride of emotions for anyone.

He knew she reacted differently to a lot of things but he had more experience than he wished when it came to triggered memories. He had his own set of painful memory loops full of scenes of torture and death of those he had been powerless to protect that appeared out of nowhere occasionally. Although mostly on sleepless nights and less often now, they still happened when he was overly stressed or tired. He had once been treated for PTSD in his own military past and knew how to recognize the signs and triggers. The worst part was that with every fugue state he believed he saw in Brennan's behaviour, he cringed inside with a burden of guilt knowing he was mostly to blame.

He should have found some way to tell her he was still alive but he had mistakenly trusted Sweets, their FBI assigned therapist, to follow his instructions to bring his closest family and friends in on the secret. He had, after all, been injured and everything had been set in motion before he had even awakened from surgery to remove the bullet in his shoulder. His recovery had been spent in protective custody while they set up the sting to help flush out a fugitive from an old case. All he could do now was berate himself and wished he had been able to find a secure way to let Bones know the truth. He would give anything to take away the obvious pain she had suffered (but still denied) during the two weeks he had been believed to be dead and apparently continued to suffer.

In a soft voice that seemed out of character for the strong willed woman Booth knew so well, she said," I think those two young people over there have found our missing knight."

"What missing knight, Bones and how do you know its ASC armour, anyway?" Booth asked, always puzzled and amazed at his partner's eclectic collection of knowledge and mused to himself that he should be used to that from Bones by now.

"That's S.C.A., Booth. Society for Creative Anachronism. It's a living history organization that uses Medieval and Renaissance history and society as a model for their own activities. You know, like the groups that recreate Civil War battles only the SCA doesn't usually recreate any particular battle. It has its own rules of conduct and customs with a feudal-style political structure based on a monarchy," Brennan explained. "You did notice we're near a campground with odd tents and unusually dressed people everywhere, didn't you?" She pointed to indicate their young witnesses waiting on the path nearby.

"In 1992, a man went missing from an SCA event held here on Memorial Day weekend. Nothing was ever found. Please Booth, I'll explain everything I know later. We have a unique opportunity while this event is on to find someone who can identify the armour here. We will also need to search the surrounding area for the missing pieces. So far, I've identified that he is missing his helm and left leg armour. He probably had a shield, as well. I'm going to be about an hour more here so why don't you go into the campground and see if you can find someone to help us identify what we have left," Brennan suggested and re-focused on her recovery tasks.

She glanced back and noticed Booth hadn't moved but was looking at her oddly. "Go on, Booth...what?..." Brennan asked impatiently, shooing him away with her hands.

Booth turned and chuckled quietly to himself. He knew he would have to wait patiently to learn how Bones knew so much about this group, a missing knight and, of all things, armour. He looked forward to hearing the rest of the story...there just had to be one... and she had better not wait too long.