Spoilers: Up to Harbingers, to be safe.
A/N: space77, you're awesome! Thanks for the beta. :)
Feet crossed on the coffee table, Booth slouched into the couch and nursed a beer. He had been feeling pretty damn low lately and it alternately made him want to sink into himself and rage at everyone. Even her. So it was a good thing that, after his being released from the hospital, she'd decided to go on some dig. Though it could be argued that he wanted so bad to rage and yell and hurt her because she had decided Guatemala needed her more than he did. He didn't need her for the tests or doctor appointments or even his therapy sessions with Sweets. He just needed his friend.
Cam had become a frequent visitor and had tried, in her own way, to help him feel better. She knew better than anyone (except maybe Bones, who left) how much this - the memory problems, the headaches, the feeling of helplessness - was affecting him. She'd call after work most nights, asking if he needed food or a friend. He accepted the food most nights and was silently pleased when she'd stay and eat with him. He never asked, but she knew him well enough to know when he needed company. One night, he had a particularly bad headache and was horrible to her when she'd called about dinner. An hour later, after a handful of (prescribed) pills had him curling under covers and around a pillow, he woke up to her sleeping form - arms and spine bent uncomfortably in an office chair she had parked beside his bed.
Angela also tried to pick up some of the slack, and he could tell part of that was because she had also lost a best friend. Lost temporarily, but lost all the same. Angela would fill him in on what she was doing that day or week, but soon enough they'd simply talk, no pretenses of work updates needed. They'd talk of art and literature and psychology, mostly on weekends. Her psychology, his anger, Bones' disappearing act... None of it was off limits, and as the days and weeks passed, his anger subsided and understanding reigned. Even excitement sometimes, because while she wasn't his Bren (and he knew she wasn't), she was his Bones and she'd be back. And while she was away on one of the digs she loved so much, he got to mourn the loss of his (imagined) wife without her attempts to fit his emotions into logical boxes and with the comforting ears and shoulders of Angela's hopelessly romantic soul and Cam's own mix of rational romanticism.
Sometimes it'd be Angela and Cam showing up at his door with Parker, and the four of them would play games or watch TV. When they went out, to small diners late at night or art museums or anywhere not too loud, Parker never asked why his dad wasn't driving or why Cam or Angela or both were always around. It'd been explained once, the day Booth had been released from the hospital. With his shaved head and healing scar, he sat in the cafeteria with Parker and explained that his old man couldn't see him as often until he felt better. It had been as painful for Booth to say it as it was for Parker to hear, and when Cam came to pick them up she'd shaken her head at Parker's (their) sullen face and offered to help. Offered all the squints help, he remembered with a smile.
He and Angela had become better friends over the past four weeks, but both of them still felt as if something (someone) was missing. He didn't claim any mind-reading abilities, but he noticed her small sighs and the sadness in her voice whenever she told him a crazy story from their past. These stories were often launched at random intervals, when a word or phrase or feeling sparked a memory. Sometimes, she'd rub his temples to ease a headache as her soothing voice travelled in easy sound waves around him.
His cell phone vibrated against his thigh, tearing him from his musings. Setting his beer between his legs, he opened his phone and cradled it to his ear. His smile brightened as he listened and after a quick response ("See ya soon, Bub."), he snapped his phone shut. Pulling his legs down and setting his beer on the coffee table, he got up and padded to the kitchen. Two more beers and a coke grabbed from the refrigerator and set on the kitchen table. Another Saturday with his son and two good friends and maybe even a trip to Hodgins' place for a barbecue later if he felt up to it.
He'd be again given a reprieve from the lows he felt when alone in his apartment. And again, he couldn't help but wonder if this would change his friendship with Bones. At that moment, though, he was okay with the reality that it probably would. She went off on another dig, but he had to keep living and loving and recovering. He was sad that he was doing all this without her, but at the same time happy that he'd gotten to know and become friends with people he'd always considered her friends, Cam being the exception.
Now, they were his friends too. And hopefully soon, they'd all be colleagues and friends and family again.