"Who are you?"
The words kept playing in her head. Over and over she relived that terrible moment. She didn't know what to think, what to feel, what to say, or even what to do. She left. It wasn't rational or logical, but that didn't concern her. All she could think about were those three little words. And suddenly, she found herself in the office of Dr. Lance Sweets.
"Dr. Brennan?" He sat there observing the dumbfounded look on her face. It was as if she were lost within her own mind. "Dr. Brennan, what are you doing here? Is there anything you need?"
She sat down on Sweets' couch. She'd sat there many times before, but usually with Booth. She looked up at Sweets as he moved from his desk to his favorite lounge chair.
"Booth woke up," she said.
"What? That's amazing!"
She made no response. She only sat there staring off into the distance.
"Temperance, what's wrong?" he asked.
"He... He doesn't remember me, Sweets. I don't know if he remembers anything."
Sweets found himself immediately thrust into a professional atmosphere. As far as he was concerned, he was with a patient. He could work out his own feelings later.
"What did you do when he told you that?"
"Nothing. I just left. I don't know why I came here. The logical course of action would have been to tell his doctors." She paused for a moment, then stood up. "I've got to go."
"No. Sit," Sweets said. He motioned for her to sit down. "Dr. Brennan, sometimes things aren't best explained by logic and rationality. Your reaction here was perfectly reasonable considering the circumstances."
"How is that? It doesn't make any sense."
"Sure it does. You felt joy seeing someone you care about come out of a coma, only to find out that he isn't that person."
"He's still Booth," she said with a confused look on her face.
"No. No he isn't. Not until his memory returns."
"You speak as though you know it will come back."
"It will," said Sweets.
"You can't know that."
"Dr. Brennan, this isn't about Booth anymore—"
"Yes it is!" She interrupted.
"It's about you now. Tell me, how do you feel."
"I feel angry, and sad." She paused for a moment. "And almost like I'm lost."
Sweets nodded. He knew that it wasn't wise to prod at her heart at a time like this, but he also knew that getting her to admit to herself that she loved Booth was more important to the overall quality of her life than feeling comfortable at that particular moment in time.
"Why lost, Dr. Brennan? Why would you feel that way?"
"I feel lost because I don't know what to do next. I don't know where to go or who to talk to."
"Rational to a fault, aren't you?"
"Logical conclusions cannot be at fault if you have all the evidence, Sweets," she said.
"A naïve statement." Bones made a move to respond, but Sweets cut her off. "For example, imagine a man and a woman. They have been the best of friends since they were young. They have been there for each other through thick and thin. They've seen each other grow and have happy relationships. They've seen each other in pain and misery. They never end up marrying anyone and spend their time with each other, friends through it all. One day in their old age the woman becomes ill. The man stays there for her, helps her to adapt to her new health problems. He helps her sort her medication, and when she is in pain he takes her to the hospital. When the doctors are done examining her they tell him that she is suffering from Alzheimer's. Her memory has degraded very quickly and it is unlikely that she will ever be able to remember him. The man runs away. He has no where to go, no one to talk to, but he runs anyway. Why do you think the man ran away, Dr. Brennan?"
"Obviously the man is in love with the woman and doesn't know it. He ran away because he can't cope with the idea that that love has suddenly come to an end."
"Exactly," Sweets said. He looked at her for a short time before saying, "Don't you see, Dr. Brennan. Don't you understand the parallels between this story and you?"
It was then that comprehension dawned on her. "Sweets, I know what you are trying to—"
"Dr. Brennan, you ran, didn't you?"
"Yes, but—"
"You said yourself that you weren't able to think of a rational course of action."
"I know, but—"
"What if Booth were gone. His memories gone forever. For all practical purposes, dead. What then, Dr. Brennan, what then?
"I— I can't..." Tears began to fall from her eyes. "I don't want to think about that, Sweets. It's not going to happen."
"You can't know that. Where is the evidence?"
"I— I don't have any."
"Why then? Why can't Booth be gone? Why do you believe so strongly that it can't happen?"
She sighed and whispered through her tears. "You said he'd be fine." The look on Sweets' face made it clear he still wanted an answer. "I don't know."
"Yes, you do. Why?"
"Because I don't want him to be gone."
"Why don't you want him to be gone?"
"He's my partner, Sweets. Why would I feel any different?"
"What's the real reason, Dr. Brennan?" He waited, knowing he wouldn't get the answer he wanted.
"I..." She stood up and made for the door. "I have to go."
"Where are you going?" Sweets yelled after her.
"I know where to go now. I know the only logical place for me to be."