A/N: Sssh don't tell but Bones readers give more and better feedback than X-Files readers. And now I shall get shot, but oh well, that's life in the fanfic ghetto. Seriously what am I on? Anyways. Early Morning and No sleep. Also No spell checker or beta so my apologies

Disclaimer: Not fucking mine

Day Two.

I sit staring at my alarm clock, I've been awake since my head hit the pillow last night. It's just now Five AM. I sit with my back flesh against my wooden headboard. My knees are curled up on my chest and I close my eyes again, trying to get a few moments rest, but everytime my eyelids close, even for a nano second, I have this out of body expierence. I can see me and my hand pressed against Booth's chest, I'm screaming at him and trying to stop the blood from flowing. I give up.

I toss back the sheet and go to the bathroom, I go through all the monotonous tasks in slow motion. I brush my teeth, take a shower, do my hair and even do my make up. I get dressed, putting on jeans and a longsleeve shirt, but then I rip the long sleeve shirt back over my head, it's too close to being the same thing I wore when Booth died. I pull on a tee-shirt and take a deep breath. You have to eat Temperance. Your body is starting to shake. I tell myself as I make my way to the kitchen. I prepare myself some toast and eggs while the coffee is brewing. Then I sit down at the kitchen table to enjoy my breakfast. You can do this Temperance. Fork, cut, stab, take bite, chew, swallow, repeat.

I finish my breakfast and I suddenly am at a loss of what to do with myself. Everywhere I look, everything is flooded with memories of Booth. Where we danced in the living room, to the table where we ate dinner, even the spot where I put out the fire after my fridge blew up makes me want to puke or break down and cry. This is not who I am. This is not logical. So Booth died, I deal with dead people everyday. There should be nothing different, but somehow it is. It's similar to when I found out my mother was dead, but different as well. Perhaps because I was prepared for her death, she had been gone for fifteen years and was well into her fifties. Booth, Booth was a thirty-two year old FBI Agent, who was in good health, by any standard he was far too young to die. I sigh and run a hand through my unruly curls. I may have to move, or atleast redecorate.

I can't go to the lab today, I can't deal with the sympathetic glances and fake platitudes. It's not like they expect me to be there, they seem to think that I am fragile and can't work. Booth wouldn't think that, he'd expect me to just move on with my life, he would know that, that's what I have to do. Then why can't I? I sigh again, I have to work, I'll just do it from home. I need to write a new chapter for my book and maybe I can get some cleaning done.

By noon my entire apartment is so clean you could eat food off of the counter. Floor Bones. Food off the floor. I hear Booth's gentle voice correcting me in my head. Though I seem to have captured a big case of writers block. My agent wanted to see more romantic scenes between Kathy and Andy, but I seem to be at a loss. I have truly lost my inspiration. What do I do? I think about calling Angela, but I remember I took my phone off the hook for a reason. I can't deal with them right now.

How do I kill some time? I can't stand this silence anymore. Suddenly, I remember. When I got my new TV, well the one that Booth picked out for me and I paid for and never watch, Booth also helped me pick out some DVD's. I walk over and sit on the floor, opening the cabinent that still holds all the DVD's wrapped in their plastic packaging. I glance over the titles and they are all foreign to me. I see a set of DVD's, they go to a TV show that Booth swore I would love. I pull the first season out and look at it. I remember Booth making a comment about us being like the main characters, "What do you want me to spit in my hand? We're Mulder and Scully" I look at the faces on the front and I decide I'll give X-files a try. I put in the first disc, but it takes a while because I have no clue how this damn thing works.

A while later and I am enthralled by this TV show. The science is clearly faulty but I am enjoying the banter between the two main characters, What are their names... Sculder and Mully? No, that's not it, Scully and Mulder. There we go. It reminds me a lot of Booth and I and I understand why he made the comparison. I pause the disc to go the the bathroom and when I look in the mirror, I am shocked, my mascara is streaked clear down my face. I had been crying and I had no idea. I use the fascilities, wash my face and go back to the show.

At some point I must of fallen asleep out of pure exhaustion. I woke up and the screen on the TV was blue. I get up from my comfy spot on the couch and turn off the DVD player. I go to the kitchen and grab a carton of Chocolate Ice Cream, that has been in there since Michael left the last time. Grabbing a spoon, I pop the lid off and take a huge spoonful. I sit on the counter and wait for a brain freeze when I take a look at the clock.

11:59 pm.

Day Two down, How much longer can I do this?