Since my other fics have all seemed to have been left hanging somewhat, I decided I wouldn't post a new story until I have actually finished it. So that's what I've done This is angsty, but hopefully you'll enjoy it anyway. Please review!

Disclaimer: Bones = not mine.

Booths POV

I woke up screaming and immediately regretted it.

My frantic shallow breathing had made my stomach revolt and I threw my upper body sideways so I could dry-heave over the floor, rather than myself.

Always a great way to start the day.

When my gut finally conceded that there was nothing in my stomach to throw up, I pulled myself upright and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I checked my watch, and although it was cheap and had a crack down the screen, it still read the time well enough, so I didn't much care.

21.33

Okay, so maybe 'starting the day' wasn't quite accurate.

With a grunt, I pushed myself off the floor, using the bed frame next to me to help me up, and, stepping over a snoring mound on the floor next to me, made my way over to the bathroom. My throat had burned raw and I cupped my hands under the trickling tap water and threw the water into my mouth with all the grace of a starved animal. Ahh, God. I relished in the simple act and as the heat died down I started to get washed.

There wasn't any soap, except a rather hairy attempt in the bathtub, and I didn't dare touch that. Instead I just scrubbed at my face with my wet hands and hoped it would work.

For the first time that morning, after standing at the sink for a good twenty minutes, I looked up.

I did a double-take when I saw myself reflected in the grungy mirror. I was a wreck. How the he11 had I managed that? I'd been washing my face in tedium for so long that my cheeks had turned a vicious shade of pink. And I still managed to look like a piece of filth. My jaw was hollow and darkened with a few days unshaven which helped bring out the dark circles under my eyes. I winced at the image, and this just stretched a long graze I'd gotten the night before across my cheek, sending it from down towards my earlobe and up nearer my left eye. My hair had grown out from the military cut and was half-way between stylishly ruffled and 'shaggy dog'. It was also greasy enough to fry burgers. My brow, which has always been kind of heavy anyway, seemed to have dropped even further over my eyes, as if it was in a race with my nose to reach my chin. No matter how hard I tried to raise it, it barely moved from its permanent scowl, and I soon felt like a total idiot making stupid faces in the mirror.

I was wearing a plain white vest, but it had turned a grungy shade of grey and brown and was soaked through with sweat from my rather vivid dream. My jeans could've done with a wash. About a week ago.

Woah. When had that happened?

I shook my head and rubbed at my temples where the nightmare from earlier still raged.

Back in the room, I heard someone grunt awake. I leaned in the doorway and looked down at the mound on the floor, who was now stretching his entire body, with his eyes still closed.

"Hey Joe, I didn't wake you did I?" I asked.

He blinked blearily for a puzzled moment, as if only just realising I was there. "Wha- Oh. No, man. Nah, I just woke up, y'know. Didn't even hear you in there." He let out a yawn as he stood up and cracked his back, with painful sound effects. "What time is it?"

"Almost ten. You reckon we should wake Ace?"

Joe's thick ginger eyebrows shot up for a quick second, then he shook his head. "No way, you wake up Ace when he's sleeping, you get what's comin' to ya." He looked round the small room, as if searching for something, then fixed his gaze on the corner by the single bed, and cheered, "Ah!"

When I saw what he had found, it occurred to me that I should probably find my shoes too.

When we were both fully dressed, me in my green jacket and him in a hideous waterproof cagoule the colour of gone-off pears, we had a quick check on the sleeping man who had put us up for the day then we headed back out into the bright lights of the Vegas Strip.

Joe was a wiry guy, with a shock of ginger hair and hollow cheeks. I'd met him on my first tour but had fallen out of touch with him since becoming a sniper. Bumping into him in a casino the night before had been a stroke of luck for me, since I had no place to stay and he did. At least, his buddy, Ace, did. All the same, I was grateful for him, even if I didn't know him very well at all.

I still felt sick from my harsh awakening, and so he'd suggested we come and make me feel better by winning a hand or two on the card tables.

"Thanks man." I muttered as we turned down a street with enough bright lights to illuminate a small mid-western town.

"Don't mention it. " Joe grinned at me easily and slapped me hard on the shoulder. Already, I could see his eyes lighting up at the prospect of a big win.

As we walked further down the road, I became increasingly aware of how bright those damn lights were. My head pounded and even through a squint, I found I couldn't quite look up properly.

"Hey, you okay man?" Joe asked as I winced from the light for the millionth time. He seemed distracted; we were reaching his favourite casino, and his fingers were already twitching.

"Yeah…yeah, I'm fine." I assured him, through a growl. "I just… These lights are just too damn bright."

He frowned, I think. I wasn't really looking at him. I was too busy trying to stop my head pounding enough so that I could hear what he was saying. "What? They're not all that bright. Just neon, man. You sure you're okay?"

I couldn't even answer him. The pounding in my head was just so loud. It hurt, oh, God, it hurt, but I'd been through worse, right? Countless countries, countless faces. Gun shots weren't too bad, because at least you could pass out later, knowing you were back safe on the home turf. The pipes were bad, though. The torture, where they wouldn't let you pass out. Keeping you conscious so you could feel it all; every cut, every burn, every bruise. I'd gotten through all that. Then why was this, a damn headache so hard for me to deal with?

I seized Joe's arm and he half-led, half-dragged me away from the street and down another alley, darker, quieter, with no other people.

I slumped down on the ground and gripped my head with my fingernails, just praying for it to stop. With each pulse of my heartbeat, more pain lashed through my skull. And with each throb, now came a flashing snapshot of me, looking into the bathroom mirror, my eyes cold and surrounded by darkness, my face hollowed and beaten.

"Look, man," I barely registered Joe's voice as he said, "You're okay, right? Just, sit there for a while, 'til it goes. I'll- I'll be in the casino, right? Just round the corner. Just for a bit. I'll be back later or something. Just, stay here, okay?"

And with that, he turned and fled out the alley to find the nearest Craps dealer.

And I was alone.

And as my head raged with the fruit of my nightmare, through the pain, and the throbbing, and the flashing pictures, I had an epiphany.

Hey, so what did you think? I have this story finished pretty much. It's not too long, and I hope to post one every day, when possible. Please review and tell me what you think. Thank you!