A/N: I know, I posted three stories in less then a week, but I just feel like writing this week. This hasn't been beta-ed, so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones.

She squatted down to the ground to examine the bone in front of her, still dirty and a little yellow with age. The strands of hair that weren't matted to her forehead, wet from the sweat drops that had gathered there, had been quickly gathered in a messy bun. She sighed. The sun was at its highest point, and the Congo air was hot and sultry. Not even the drive for justice of world renowned forensic anthropologist Dr. Temperance Brennan could compete with this heat combined with sheer exhaustion, seeing as she had slept no more than four hours the last night. She had been in such a hurry, just trying to get away from it all.

She thought of her partner, the one person that had seen her with all her defenses down and then told her he was in love with her. It was too much to handle, so she had turned him down. She was a scientist. She couldn't change, not into the person he wanted, needed, deserved. She would only hurt him, and she couldn't bear seeing him in pain, physical or otherwise. She had asked him if they could still work together and he had said yes, but deep down she knew she had to make a choice. They couldn't pretend nothing had happened, and even though Booth said he needed to move on, they both knew they first had to resolve this. She had to resolve this. He had already made his choice, taken the leap because after all, he was the gambler.

This dig, however, wasn't something she did only to run. Partially, yes, and it couldn't have come at a more convenient time. But this was also something she had to do, to bring justice to these victims because she may very well be one of the only people able to do so. In some way, it was her duty. Like Booth had his patriotism, his feeling of duty towards his country, she felt like she just owed this to the world. It was her duty towards justice, and she gave people the answers they deserved. When she was in one of these countries, doing what she loved most, it was her turn to serve, to help in her own way.

When she finally gave in to the need for rest and stood up, she was very surprised to see a little boy standing at the border of the site. The child was very small, no more than 7 years old, and had a friendly, round face. His arms were very thin, no doubt from malnutrition, Brennan thought wryly. His hear was cut short as so many did in this hot area, and his skin was as black as a moonless night. The boy's eyes were pointed to the ground, and she could see the scars littering his neck, pale against his skin, and when she looked closer she saw that not only his neck, but his entire body was disgraced with terrifying marks.

In that moment, Temperance Brennan cursed her intelligence. She cursed her ability to look at remains, at a body and know exactly what had been done to them. She could see every single thing, every horror and it was more than she wanted to know. This skill, this education of hers let her bring justice, let her help people but right now all she could see was this little boy who she knew had seen too much pain, too much grief already.

Suddenly, the little child tilted his head, and she could finally see his eyes. They were brown. It surprised her. Of course they are brown, she told herself. Considering this boy's skin tone and descent you should have been fairly certain they would be brown. It shouldn't shock you. It shouldn't, but it did. Not because the boy didn't have blue or green or maybe even gray eyes, but because of what she saw in those brown waters. It was the look he gave her, the sense of pride that radiated off of him. That's impossible, Temperance, and you know it. You can't physically feel one's emotion, and especially not in the form of some sort of radiation. She knew she couldn't, but there was no other way to describe it. She might not have been good at reading people, but she was sure it was pride this boy felt.

But why would he be proud of her? She was a mess. Looking once more in his eyes, she suddenly recognized them. Those were the eyes she saw almost every day, staring intently at her over a set of human remains or just a slice of pie at the diner. Those eyes were ever-present in her dreams, even if they were nightmares. They were his eyes.

Somehow, this boy fascinated her. Her mind was still filled with questions, wanting to know who this mysterious boy was, why he was here, why those horrible things had happened to him and most of all why he was so proud of her. She hadn't done anything good. All she had done was run away from the ones who cared about her yet again.

Intent on getting an answer to some of those questions –Temperance Brennan needed answers to everything because not knowing meant risking everything- she moved towards the child, when suddenly the sight before her changed. It seemed impossible, but there now there was a young girl standing there, her head framed by auburn hair and her jaw set in a stubborn yet completely adorable way. It was like looking into a mirror, seeing her younger self, the happy girl she had been before everything went wrong. Except for one thing.

Her eyes.

The girl's eyes hadn't changed from the little boy that had stood before her moments ago. They were still the warm brown she loved so much. She could see the child move, and it was only then that she noticed the green grass that surrounded her, and the man sitting a few feet away from the girl, with his back to Brennan.

Even though she couldn't see the man's face, she immediately recognized him. It was Booth.

She saw her partner's head move and apparently he had called the girl, seeing as she ran towards him with the kind of joy etched in her face only an innocent child could possess. The man-Booth, she added in her mind, still finding the fact hard to believe- caught her in his arms and twirled her around lovingly.

And then it all changed back and the beautiful little girl was gone and the sad yet proud boy was back. He stared at her intently and she suddenly noticed that her eyes were blurry from unshed tears.

The boy smiled one last time –a toothy grin that was childlike and real- and turned around. Without uttering a word, he walked away, leaving Brennan stunned and confused.

What had just happened? She must have been too hot, or hadn't drunk enough water, because she was clearly hallucinating, right? She tried to convince herself, but she knew it was no such thing. She knew what had just happened.

The desert had spoken to her.

Just like it had told Angela where Danny had gone when she had been missing, saving her life, it had now showed Brennan this vision, this future she could have. With that man, that man that meant everything to her, she could have a future. They could have a little girl with eyes like his, and she would be loved…

She made a decision. She had to know. Maybe it wouldn't work out, maybe they'd fight and break up and hate each other, and she would never be able to look at herself in the same way again, but she knew that this time, she had to try. She had to take the risk, because if she didn't, there wasn't a chance of a future together to begin with. If they didn't try, she would most definitely never see this little girl again, but she wanted to. She wanted to meet her, and love her and in 50 years have Booth say: "I knew."

But not right now. Now, she had to finish what she started and identify these victims. Give them a name, and an age and an identity. Give them family and loved ones again, even though they would be grieving, because taking the risk hadn't worked out this time. But at least, they had been loved -they were still loved, and wasn't that all anyone could ever wish for?

A/N: Bad, good, just plain weird? Please review.