Disclaimer - Bones doesn't belong to me. Neither do any of the other characters and settings in this wonderful show. Only the plot of this little story is mine, however cliché it might be.

A/N – Hello one and all, and welcome to my very first Bones story. I've been watching this show for years, however it was only recently that stumbled on a story that my muse is happy with. I've already got most of the story planned out, but I'm notoriously bad at sticking to any plans I make, so I can't really say how long this story is going to be, or even what direction it's going to go in. I only hope you enjoy the ride!


~ Lost and Found ~

Part One


He stumbled on, his body burning with pain and fatigue as he tried desperately to keep moving forward down the dark, empty street. The night-time air was cold, the biting breeze battering against his bare torso, but he knew he couldn't afford to stop and find shelter. He blinked hard instead, forcing away the exhaustion and the pain and the fog that was clouding his mind, and instead using all his reserves to focus on getting far away.

He had to get away. He didn't even know why. He barely knew who he was, where he was, or where he was going. All he knew for certain was that if he stopped now, even for one second, he was a dead man…

The wind whistled through the air, and he jerked his head around, the hair on his arms standing on ends partly because of the cold, and partly because of the anxiousness and adrenaline that were running through his battered body, as well as the fear that he couldn't quite hold at bay. He stopped, fists raised protectively out in front of him, every second agony as he waited for an attack that he wasn't even sure was coming.

When - after a few more agonising seconds of silence - nothing happened, he carried on once more, head down as he tried to take a deep breath in a largely futile attempt to calm himself. The street was deserted, but fear and adrenaline and something else that he knew was a little less natural were all pumping through his veins, and he knew that he couldn't trust his own eyes, or even the instincts that had always served him so well in the past.

He shook his head and stumbled on, fear and adrenaline forcing his heart to beat at ten times its normal rhythm. The edge of his vision was fuzzy, creating an almost tunnel-like sensation, but even then he couldn't be sure that he was going in a straight line. His head was throbbing and his chest felt like it was on fire, but he didn't let that stop him. He couldn't let that stop him. He had to get away…

"Hey mister!"

He flinched and his breath stopped in his chest, but kept his head down as he forced his body down another street, desperation fuelling him as much as the adrenaline now. He had to get away, he had to…

"Hey, mister!" asked the stranger again. The voice was closer now, gaining on him.

He carried on, although he knew it was only a matter of time before the stranger caught up to him. He was in pain, and his body and mind were betraying him. He stumbled again; his legs were almost like lead as he tried to push them beyond all endurance, and his vision was beginning to fade. He didn't have long, he wasn't going to make it…

"Hey, mister!" repeated the stranger, much closer now. "You okay? Is something wrong?"

Wrong? he thought, staggering on. The truth was everything felt wrong…

"Hey man, are you okay? You don't look so good. Wait, is that blood…"

He didn't recognise the stranger's voice, but in the end, that's what made the decision for him, because the odds were, a stranger was less likely to hurt him than someone he recognised; than someone who had hurt him before. Well that, and he wasn't sure he was going to be able to outrun the stranger anymore anyway…

And so, with his heart thudding loudly in his chest, he stopped and turned around to face the stranger, hands out in the universal symbol of surrender.

"Help," he gasped out finally. "Please, help me."

Then his knees gave way, and he fell to the ground. He tried to pull himself up, but his legs had stopped working, and his vision was swimming, and the truth was, he just didn't have the energy anymore. It was too much…

"Hey, what do I do?" the stranger asked frantically, finally having grasped the seriousness of the situation. "Tell me what to do."

"Help…" he muttered in reply. "Please… get help…"

"Who are you?" the man said frantically, eyes wide and fearful. "Oh, god, you're bleeding everywhere. What do I do?"

He ignored the stranger's ramblings and shoved his hand in his pants pocket, pulling out his cell phone. In the back of his mind, he knew that he probably could have called for help himself ages ago, but he'd been desperate to get away, and whatever was running through his system was still making clear thought almost impossible. Almost…

"Booth," he gasped out in a brief moment of wonderful clarity, even as the blackness began to seep into his vision. "My name's...Special Agent Seeley...Booth. Call Bones. I need...Bones."

And then he closed his eyes, and knew no more.


A/N – So, how was it? This is only a short prologue, but I hope it read okay. It's set sometime in season nine, mainly because I wanted to include Sweets, although the timeline isn't all that important. I don't want to say too much more now, because I don't want to ruin the story, but I hope you liked this little taster at least. The next chapter should be much longer and should explain a few things. Until then, let me know what you think so far, and as always, thanks for reading!