Authors' Note: Hello all! We are finally here posting this story that we started...40 weeks ago. No word of a lie. The idea was born from episode 4.25 (The Critic in the Cabernet), though we were thinking pretty high of ourselves at the time, certain that we had the finale figured out before it aired (yeah, we were wrong), so for the sake of this story there will be no Booth brain tumour and no coma dream. Sorry. We liked that part, too. This is mine and Norah Pearly-Gates' first joint effort and we're beyond excited, so you should be excited, too! This is just a tiny taste of what is to come; most chapters will be heavily B/B in present day, so don't judge us to quickly! With that, I'll hand the reins over to Amanda, as I usually do, when I am finding my wittiness or entertaining abilities in short supply. Enjoy! And please, please review! Amanda?

Hi folks! I still find it beyond funny and pitiful that Ashley and I were convinced we would finish our obnoxiously long story in two weeks. Which was over 40 weeks ago. Har har. We feel as if we have so much accomplished - which we do - but we haven't even posted on FanFic! Now that's all about to change. Please enjoy, sit back and immerse yourself in what we are presenting.

Spoilers: All aired episodes, just to be safe. Heavy focus on episodes 4.25 and 1.13.

Chapter Title: I realized we were posting today and then remembered I didn't have a title for the chapter. So quickly putting my iPod on shuffle I scanned through my songs. At about number 32 I found it. It's aptly named "Title and Registration" and is from Death Cab For Cutie. Album... let me check. The flow of the song soon put my mind at ease for it perfectly suited the mood I wanted set for the opening chapter. Crisis averted.

Disclaimer: We often pretend that we own David Boreanaz (I won't go into details, but you can guess what we do with that privilege), but alas, we do not. And we don't own Bones either. We do however, own Natalie and a few other characters you will meet along this journey. Our characters (from that of Bones) are our own, so don't steal what we have created.

"The only joy in the world is to begin."

- Cesare Pavese

Prologue

I had never given much thought to my future. Not in the sense other kids my age did. Where they would travel to, what college they would choose, who they would become. Rather, I thought about the family I wanted, the mother I craved to have again. While others craved extravagant lives, wishing to fulfill their life-long dreams, I craved simplicity to its fullest. Entering the adult world meant nothing to me. I wasn't going to be free in any sense. Instead, I'd just continue living the life I've had for years. My father tried to encourage me, showing me the possibilities of what I could do. But we both knew it was futile. I would continue this life until I died.

This was my reality. A reality I couldn't escape. The only journey my imagination – my dreams – ever took me on led me straight back to this place. This dead end. This hopelessness. But for a few moments, a few solid moments before all that was real would come crashing down upon me, I would lose myself in an autumn blue sky.

It always started with me, just me, standing there, hip high grass tickling my skin, the wind shifting, my hair dancing around me. It was the blueness of the sky that drew my eyes. I would stare at it endlessly watching as the pale blue changed into a soft teal, the depths swirling and shifting with life, looking like an adaptation of Van Gogh's Starry Night. That was the sign I was given, every time, showing me she was soon to come. She always came from the side, never directly in front of me, never from the back, but off to the side of my vision. Before I could turn to look at her, I would feel her hand grasp mine. Her fingers would intertwine themselves with mine and I would feel her hold tight. I would look up at the sky, with her by my side, and I find myself looking into a colour that my father could only describe as a Temperance blue. And I knew she was looking too.

~*~

Chapter One
Title and Registration

Friday, April 10, 2026 - 6:07 PM

The little girl ahead of me was screaming again. Leaning my head against my propped up hand on the back of my seat I watch as she threw down her doll and cried. Her mother, ever so devoted, scooped her and her toy up, sitting them on her lap where the little girl instantly muffled her cries, hiding her face in her mother's shoulder.

I cocked my head to the side.

Was I ever like that? I remember faint moments of tantrums but it was my father that I always remember soothing or scolding me. Did my mother ever hold me like that? When I was that age, small enough to be carried on her hip? Pursing my lips, I turned my vision to the long line of people waiting to buy tickets for their train. I had been sitting here for nearly two hours, and I still hadn't decided which route I wanted to take. I knew I would have to leave soon. The little girl peeked over at me over her mother's shoulder. I wagged my fingers at her. Giggling, her eyes crinkling she hid her face again.

I wish I could hide like that. I used to be able too. I don't remember, but I was sure I had done it.

Feeling my book slipping off my lap, I grabbed it, securing it in my grasp. I had wanted to read the book for a while, but now... after the certain events I had been through I had lost interest. The main character's hair was dark brown and her boyfriend had blue eyes. And through those small, minute details all I could see was her brown hair and her blue eyes. Just like mine. I had wanted, so long, to actually see her, feel her, and know she was real. And now I did. Except I was leaving it all behind. I felt, like a sigh, the dark thoughts creep up; the nausea grew in the pit of my stomach as it wormed its way up my tightening throat. I squeezed my eyes shut as I saw her standing before me, her blue eyes piercing. Soul searching I would call it. I actually saw her frowning in my mind's eye, opening her mouth to prepare an argument for the fact there was no literal soul. And I knew her. I was a part of her, and even though I would never see her again, I felt it would have to be enough knowing how much we were alike.

The loud whistle of the leaving train startled me out of my withdrawn thoughts. I shook my head quickly, as a tired person may with fatigue, knowing I couldn't allow myself to cut off my senses like that. With my father always being by my side I didn't have to be as aware but now... I knew my matter of survival depended on how well I kept aware of my surroundings. A muffled announcement sounded throughout the wide hall, it sounded like somebody had a bad case of nasal congestion, and I was pretty sure it was a female talking.

Barely listening to the overhead announcements, I weaved my way through the thinning crowds – a train must be leaving soon – abandoning my hard chair in search of the pay phone I knew lay somewhere near the front entrance. A golden light was being cast into the station from the lowering sun, streaming in through the wide, thick windows that lined the whole front of the building. The stone floors gleamed and reflected the light, and I found myself having to squint against the startling glare. Reaching the payphone I dropped my bags unceremoniously onto the floor beside my feet as I picked up and cradled the phone on my shoulder. The monotone of the recorded phone voice spoke through asking for a deposit of coins and I fished for the handful of quarters that I knew lay in the pocket of my jeans.

I hesitated when I raised the first coin to the slot. Who would I call? I knew exactly who I wanted to talk to, but I knew that the choice I had made for leaving meant cutting off all connections. Just like last time, seven years ago. Except this time I was all alone. With a sigh I dialled the number of my home, listening to the rings, knowing nobody would pick up, for they were in a different state all together. This was safe. All I wanted was to hear a familiar voice.

The beep connected me to the voicemail and I held my breath as I awaited the answering machine, feeling the slow ache grow in me.

"Hi. You've reached Seeley... Portman - "

"And Natalie!"

"And Natalie. We're not available so leave us a message - "

"And we'll get back to you as soon as we please too!"

"Nat!" Laughter sounded throughout the tiny speaker. "Now we have to start all over again."

"It's fine dad. Is it still recording?" The line went dead for a few moments then beeped, indicated for me to speak. The voicemail had been created when we had first moved in, and despite our intentions of needing to fix it, we had never gotten around to it. And it seemed we never would now. Realizing I was still holding the phone, and that my answering machine in Wisconsin was most likely recording my breathing, I hung up. Leaning my head against the phone booth, I muttered what I had wanted to say into the phone.

"Bye Dad. I'm sorry."

Wiping my nose with the back of my sleeve, sniffing away my borderline tears, I reached down and grabbed my bag. As I slung it over my shoulder, I let my vision drift out the front windows, over the passing cars, watching as vehicles pulled up to the curb to drop off or picked up people from the station. I glanced over to the other side of the street, shops lined the sidewalk and people hurried by going to and fro, and I noticed a sleek, black car idling by the curb. It reminded me of my Uncle Jack's car – one of his many – slim, fast, expensive; dark tinted windows that allowed you to look out but nobody to look in unless their face was plastered to the window. And it was all those reasons for being an inconspicuous car that made it as obvious and horrific as a fat lady wearing a pink velvet track suit. Taking a few steps back, I kept my eyes on the car, but nobody came out, nor did the car leave. And I knew my best course of action – whether I was just over reacting about the car or not – was to remain in the crowds, blend myself in and allow myself the chance to run again.

I turned swiftly and immediately collided with a broad, solid chest. Strong arms enveloped me in a fierce hold. Soothing words met my ears before my instincts had the chance to take over and spur me to push my captor away. I looked up, immediately meeting a set of familiar chocolate brown eyes.

"Parker."

This is just the beginning - as you can see - so leave your feedback and let us know if we've lost you or not. Yes, I know there was a serious lacking of Booth and Bones here but I promise - promise - they'll be in the next chapter. If any explaining is needed in the future let us know and Ashley and I will be glad to post what we can in our authors notes.

Have a good night!

... Review for me and I'll review for you. Don't we all heart reviews?