DISCLAIMER: I do not own Bones or the characters in this story!

This is about Lance Sweets

First try, don't crucify me.

Lance Sweets stood before his mirror, a towel wrapped around his waist. He turned his body in an awkward manner and traced a finger down one of the more prominent scars. Shuttering as he had a flash, just barely a memory of something slashing through his skin, his tiny body collapsing under its snap. It cut through his skin, splashing ruby over his back. A sharp breath pulled him from the memory, slowly he began pulling on his jeans and a black t-shirt, one from his teenage days, across his chest "Opeth" emblazoned in a blood red, outlined in white. It was a bad day, he'd talked to a patient whose parents had told him his entire life he was worthless, which awoken Sweets' own past demons. The Jeffersonian team and Booth were all going out for a drink, they'd cracked a case earlier that day. He had barely done anything to help with this one, so why should he go? Instead Sweets fell into his couch and turned his television on. CMT flared across his flat screen, and he glared. A woman called Carrie Underwood's video was playing, it sounded slow and sweet. Instead of changing it, he let the noise play through his apartment. The title of the song was Temporary Home, and the lyrics started. His breath caught, and he couldn't regain it as the words rang through his mind.

Little boy, six years old

A little too used to being alone

Another new mom and dad

Another school, another house that will never be home

That's all he heard before slamming his finger on his remote, causing the channel to change abruptly. Some story about doom preppers played across his screen, usually he'd be interested but he wasn't. "Six years old?" He managed between halting breathes. He remembered when he was six, when his life turned. Shaking his head, Lance stood. He took large steps to his door, and tore his jacket from the hook, slamming the door as he left. Cold winter air swept over him, almost as strong as the jumbled feelings within himself. He hands were shoved in his pockets, as he watched his breathe swirl like a dragon in the winter air. He'd decide to take short leave from the FBI to work at a mental institute. It would begin tomorrow, but he felt a solemn regret in his gut, without stressful work, he may have to start coming to terms with his feelings. Shaking his head, angered filled him as chains jingled at his sides, something about the world, the way the 'squints' and Booth treated him made him fill with rage. A blind rage zipped through him as he broke into a run, his converse beating against frosted pavement as he ran, getting himself lost in winter air. His gasps for air between strides hurt with the dry, cold air filling his lungs. His heart beat raced as he lost his emotions, and by the time he stopped running he found himself in front of a diner he'd never seen, it's name was odd, Burlseing. Shrugging it off, he'd figure he'd get directions back to his part of town later. He climbed the concrete stairs and went inside.

3 weeks later

"Bones, we got ourselves a body!" Booth chimed while pushing Brennans office door open, a chime in his voice filled the air and Brennan couldn't help but smile. They hadn't had a case worth while in quite some time, but judging by Booths tone this one was interesting. "It's out in a snow pile by this old dinner called…" He paused, peering at writing sprawled across his ruff palm. "Bur-les-ing...Burlesing. Wierd name, come on bones lets go!" He clapped his hands together, smiling at her as she pulled her coat from the hook.

They jumped from Booths car, making their way through FBI techs who swarmed the scene. Brennan pushing to the body, and kneeling before it, gently brushing snow she studied. "Definitely male, age early to mid twenties…" She paused looking at the skull, she examined the few frozen skin patches left. A pool of frozen scarlet blood surrounded the body, but she had a look of frustration. "No obvious cause of death, but time of death his around three to four weeks ago, judging by the decomp pared with the weather and road salts. Though, Hodgens will need to analyze all of this." She motioned around to the entire snow pile. Booth let out an exasperated sigh as the techs came in, they knew the drill.

"You heard the genius, get this stuff back to the Jeffersonian." He motioned to the entire snow pile with his pen, snapping his notebook shut.

Cam and Brennan buzzed around the body, talking while Hodgens chimed a few words in. He also threw a theory of government spy in there, but Booth and Angela stood side by side, shaking their heads in unison. "So..can I have the skull Bren sweety?" Brennan simply nodded as she analyzed the spinal discs, one by one. Angela plucked the skull of the table and gingerly carried it to her office. When she got to her office, she smiled at the skull. "Mid to late twenties? You were almost a grown up, kiddo. Sad, you could've been someone really important." Her voice was gentle, like a mother settling her child to bed. A habit she couldn't break was talking to the skulls, she always saw them as people. Slowly she began marking the prominent features, adding basic features to the skull. "You were probably pretty cute, kid. Girls will miss you, for sure." She laughed, pressing her music on. Soft and low, she played violin to help her concentrate. Humming with the Carmen Suite she added details, feeling her heart begin to pound. Taking a deep breath, she added deep coffee brown eyes, full of soul and joy, she added a toothy grin and by instinct added the large dimple to his cheek. Shaking her head she felt hot tears cascade over her fiery pink cheeks. She added oak curls to his head and lost it completely. A loud, shrill note filled the Jeffersonian, Angela's voice the forensic team knew in an instant. She screamed until her voice faltered and she felt tears, Hodgens burst into her office and she collapsed into him. He held her close as the team poured in, followed by a few guards. For a moment everyone was confused, until Angela pointed a shaking finger to her screen. Brennan fell onto Booth in shock. Cam stumbled backwards, catching table just barely. Booth slammed against the wall as he stared, disbelief took his over body.

"You..you did it wrong! You had to have done it wrong.." Brennan snapped, but she and Angela both knew she hadn't. Booth stared, and Cam fell over, hitting the floor, to weak with agony to stand.

"It's...Dr. Lance Sweets." Booth announced to the knowing crowd around him, and Brennan screamed.

...

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