Sorry for the delay! I didn't start this chapter for a while, and it was extended, making it take longer than planned. Enjoy, and thanks for all of your wonderful responses!

Chapter 4. The Snippets from the Past

"Oh, how cruelly sweet are the echoes that start

When Memory plays an old tune on the heart!"

-Eliza Cook

A knock came to the bathroom door.

"Sweetie?" Angela's tentative voice filtered in through the door. "Are you in there?"

Brennan straightened from the crouch she had been in and wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. She walked towards the door and opened it, revealing the face of a friend she truly remembered.

"Ange," Brennan breathed, pulling her friend into a hug.

Angela smiled and hugged her best friend back. "God! Are you O.K.?" Her expression became concerned as she stepped into the bathroom with Brennan. "Booth said to try to keep you calm with the whole brain injury thing, but I need the truth. How are you? Are feeling like a total blast from the past?

"And I can't believe you didn't call me last night! I mean, I guess you can't remember that now, but, honestly, your best friend needs a call during these kinds of things."

Brennan gave a half smile. It was so beautifully refreshing to see that one aspect of her life hadn't changed. Angela was her constant, reminding her that she hadn't just crossed into an alternate universe. Although science had yet to progress to such a degree, Brennan was irrationally beginning to believe she had indeed travelled to some other universe.

Brennan, although nearly overjoyed to recognize her friend, did her best to keep a cool demeanor. "I have amnesia, due to the fact that part of my hippocampus was injured last night. Booth told me that someone struck me from behind, but I don't remember." She scoffed at herself for being so repetitive. "Which would be obvious since I have amnesia."

Angela gave her friend a supporting smile and squeezed her arm. "Brennan, if there was one person that I believed could handle going through something like this, it would be you."

Brennan gave her a doubtful look. "How could you know that? You'd have to thoroughly assess everyone you know, which would require a lot of time and thought processing—"

"I know," Angela assured her, staring at her with a convinced look. "I know you. You'll be fine."

Brennan didn't really know if she believed her. She partly wanted to. She wanted to believe that she could just easily fight through this, but life seemed so hard. She wanted to think of the odds, run her own diagnostic, decide what was the next metaphorical step from here, but her head hurt and the odds scared her. So instead of thinking everything through, she believed her friend.

"Put your heart into gear," Brennan found herself whispering aloud.

"What?" Angela asked, confused with Brennan's seemingly random phrase.

"I… I can't remember what he was referring to, but I remember Booth telling me that once," she murmured absentmindedly, wracking her genius brain for the memories that were hidden from her. But every time she reached for a memory, it skirted away from her. It was like trying to recall a dream or a wayward thought; the more she tried to remember, the more she couldn't.

"Well, that's a good sign! Right?" Angela encouraged. "Maybe you're just remembering little pieces at a time."

Brennan gave a nod as she drew in a shaky breath. "It is a positive indicator that I am still able to recall some things, but all I really remember from the past seven years is that pointless quote."

The recently recalled images of Booth flashed through her mind again. 'And those,' she amended mentally. Whatever those were. Memories or dreams or… whatever the hell those were.

"You've gotta start somewhere," Angela spoke, giving her a knowing smile.

Brennan gave a nod, trying to stray away from the images in her mind; they were making her head ache. "I heard that you had a baby," Brennan revealed, trying to think of something else than her present state of mind. "You married Hodgins?"

Angela laughed at the confusion that leaked into Brennan's tone, questioning their relationship. "Yeah, I did. We got married in a jail, of all places. Not exactly Paris, but we traveled there, too." She smiled, remembering the good times she had with her husband.

"Jack finally got over his anger issues, and we got married years after. It was an on-again, off-again, constantly spinning machine of relationship before we finally just made it a legal marriage." Her expression glowed as she explained all that she had gained in the last few years. "We had the baby a few months ago. His name's Michael."

Brennan laughed quietly to herself. "Honestly, I thought that you would never settle down, nor start a family." She looked down at her own expanding abdomen. "But I never thought I would either. Children have a large tendency to complain, demand, think irrationally, and make large messes."

Angela laughed. "But they're so fun! They just want to play and laugh and pretend to be princesses or super heroes. They're brutally honest and love everything except vegetables. Yeah, they spit up on you, cry through the night, and make you their personal chauffeur, but they're worth every moment."

Brennan still felt worried about expecting a child of her own so suddenly. She gave Angela a slightly doubting look. "It's highly probable that your maternal instincts are making you biased."

Angela smiled. "Yeah, it's highly probable. But it's also true."

Brennan took a deep breath, trying to think about her future clearly. She didn't know if she would consider adoption. After all, it was supposedly Booth's child, too. She knew that she would need to talk to him about it. It seemed that he knew more about her than she did these days.

"Where's Booth?" Brennan asked.

"He went to talk to that bastard who hit you last night," Angela muttered with a grimace. "I hope Booth goes all bad-cop on his ass."

Brennan sighed, deciding to deal with the present moment, rather than continue to contemplate her confusing past and future. "When you see him, could you ask him to come see me?"

Angela smiled, hoping that her friend would fall back in love with him a whole lot faster than it took her the first time. "Sure, sweetie. What are you going to do?"

Brennan opened the door of the bathroom, preparing to start her day. "I'm going to get back to work," she answered before turning and letting the door close behind her.

Angela looked heavenward, as if asking God for help. "Of course, you are."

After Brennan changed into a set of work clothes in her office, she twisted her hair into a casual ponytail and set off to work.

She chose to look through limbo and categorize those sets of remains. After all, it wasn't as if she could ask for a case; she didn't even know if Dr. Goodman was still the head of the Jeffersonian anymore. She didn't know much about her life anymore. So, instead, she hid out in the enormous room, busying herself with the thousands of remains.

She had been working for a good five hours before anyone dared to approach her. A tan woman with short, dark hair walked up to her, dressed in professional attire. "Hello, Dr. Brennan." The woman stuck out her hand for Brennan to shake. "I'm Dr. Camille Saroyan. I'm the new head of the department."

'Dr. Goodman is gone, then,' Brennan thought to herself, shaking Cam's hand.

"How long have you been working in this position?" Brennan asked her superior.

Cam briefly thought it over. "About five and half years. Give or take a couple of months."

Brennan gave a nod, now knowing that the introduction was purely for her benefit. Cam had known her for years now.

"I ran into you in the F.B.I.'s elevator once, though," Cam suggested the memory, slightly hoping that it would trigger a dim recollection. "It was about seven years ago."

Brennan thought about it, but became disappointed and annoyed when she recalled nothing of this woman. She shifted her irritation back towards Cam. "I see thousands of people a day. It's highly unlikely that I would remember a stranger a passed in the Hoover building."

Cam gave a nod. She had forgotten how bitter Dr. Brennan used to be. "I just thought I'd introduce myself again. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call me."

She turned on her heel and began marching away, back towards the door. Once she reached the exit, she paused and turned back towards Brennan. "You know, you don't have to stay and work. You can have the rest of the week off because of… what happened."

Brennan gave a nod. "I… I'm not sure where I would go from here. I'd prefer to stay." Brennan's tone was calm and analytical, but Cam didn't miss the small bit of helplessness that rose behind her words. Cam wondered if this was what Brennan was like, back when she lost her parents and her entire childhood. It was sort of like that again, an unfair life. No one deserved losing their life once, let alone twice.

Cam just gave a nod. "Stay for however long you'd like." She turned and walked out the door, wishing she could offer something more to Brennan.

As Brennan recorded the markers on the bones laid out in front of her, she replayed Cam's face in her head again, wishing she could just remember everything.

Flashes. Random, misplaced images of Camille ran through Brennan's head, making her mind swirl nauseatingly. She held her head in her head, trying to calm her brain. Cam felt familiar, but… distant. She felt like she knew her, but couldn't recall details. It was truly irritating.

Brennan took a deep breath and returned to her work. She would just ignore her own life for the time being.

Three hours after that, Booth arrived at the entrance of Limbo. His hair had lost its typically groomed quality, and his clothes had grown wrinkled and disheveled during the course of the day. He had tracked lead after lead, trying to find out the motives of the man that had struck Brennan, only to come up with the silent suspect he started out with. The man had refused to talk, no matter the threat or plead, aggravating Booth more than ever. There were just no leads other than the bodies. It was truly too bad that the Jeffersonian and F.B.I. were lacking their forensic anthropologist. It was truly too bad that everyone was in lack of Temperance Brennan.

"Bones," Booth called, marching down the stairs. "Why are working down here? I thought Angela was going to take you home." At least, that was what Booth had asked Angela to do.

Brennan looked up at him, feeling a little anxious and excited upon his return. She found that she… she missed him. "I felt more comfortable working. Besides, I can't even recall where I live."

Booth leaned against the table that Brennan had stationed herself at. "Come on, I'll take you home."

Brennan paused for a moment, contemplating the offer. After a moment of thought, she peeled off her latex gloves and threw them in the trash. "That would be… very helpful to me. Thank you."

He waited and let her lead him up the stairs, resisting placing his hand on the small of her back; he still remembered her shrinking away from his touch earlier this morning.

"Well, I left my toothbrush at your place so I think picking it up would be helpful to all those I come in contact with," he tried to lighten the opaque mood.

He drove her to the apartment that they had shared for the past three months. He would sleep at his office in the Hoover until he found a place to settle. That was what he had decided during the course of his day. He didn't want to start believing she would regain her memories so soon. Besides, even if she did, who was to say that he would still be welcomed back?

Brennan stepped into the apartment, looking around. Booth's socks were scrunched under the coffee table, and his extra pair of shoes was at the door. She recognized that their relationship used to be past the point of just a toothbrush at the other's apartment.

"Back there's your bedroom," Booth told her, pointing towards the hallway.

Brennan gave a nod, remembering the place from when she had woken up. She looked up at Booth, finally taking the time to see him. His nose was bruised from this morning, and his face was etched with the worry and grief he had experienced throughout the day.

"I apologize about your nose," Brennan admitted, gesturing towards him. "I wasn't aware of who you were at that moment."

"No, no," he shooed her apologies away. "I understand. I don't blame you." Even though he said the words, there was still some bitterness behind the words. Not bitterness at Brennan for smacking him with a frying pan, but bitterness at this whole messy situation.

Brennan felt it, too.

Rather than awkwardly standing by the door with Booth, she sat down on the couch. Booth didn't follow, unsure if he should. "Come sit down," she invited, not wanting him to go just yet.

Booth pulled his fists from out of his pockets and took a seat on the couch, about a foot and a half away from Brennan. "Thanks."

The two sat there, not really knowing what to say.

Brennan broke the silence with the first thing she could think of. "Did you talk to that man? The man that hit me with a pipe?"

Booth grimaced slightly. "Yeah. He got us nowhere. Wouldn't talk."

Brennan smirked. "Aren't there interrogation techniques for that?"

Booth half smiled. "Yeah. They didn't work."

Brennan nodded, not sure what to say next. She had never been good with small talk nor any other personal conversations, for that matter.

So instead of speaking, she rose to her feet. "Do you want a drink?"

As she walked into the kitchen, Booth stood also. "No, that's O.K. I'd better get home soon."

Brennan had been searching her cabinets for glasses but stopped when he declined. "I suppose I can't either." She looked towards her stomach, and Booth's eyes followed her own.

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. Brennan had been running different scenarios in her head, wondering how she would bring up the pregnancy, and now it was out in the open.

"How are you with the pregnancy?" Booth asked, not sure what else to really say about it.

She took a deep breath. "My physical health is very well. The fetus has grown exceptionally during these past few months." She couldn't bring herself to say the word 'baby.' It felt like saying that word aloud would somehow finalize it and force it to register in her brain. Instead, she distanced herself from the reality of the situation by using the scientific term for her child.

Booth nodded, unconsciously growing a smile on his face as he thought of his coming child. "We don't know if it's a boy or girl yet. We were waiting to find out."

Suddenly, Brennan was pulled into a memory.

Brennan was lying in bed, hand resting on her abdomen. Booth was lying beside her, turned on his side so that he could look at her as they spoke.

"Do you know what it is yet?" Booth asked with a bright smile, hoping to find out whether his Seeley Jr. or Cecilia was coming. Brennan had just visited her OBGYN that day, and Booth slightly suspected that she had secretly found out the sex of their baby.

But Bones didn't understand the question. She gave him a confused look and answered simply, "It's a baby, Booth."

"Well, yeah," Booth agreed, pulling himself into a sitting position as he grew more excited with their conversation, "but is it a boy or a girl?"

"I haven't found out yet," she answered. "It's still too early in the pregnancy."

"Just think, Bones," Booth requested, waving his arms for emphasis. "Clear your mind. With your mom senses, are you feeling that they'll be a boy or a girl?"

Bones stared at him, not sure if he was being serious. "Booth, I am incapable of knowing the gender of my child, despite the fact they're growing inside of me. It isn't a superpower."

Booth tried not to let his small, crushed hope show on his face. He wanted to know so badly. "Fine, then. If you had to guess, what would it be?"

"Booth, guessing will not provide anymore of an answer," she reminded him. "I might as well flip a coin for a conclusion."

Booth smiled. "O.K., if you had to pick, do you want to give birth to a son or a daughter?"

That made Bones pause. "A daughter."

Booth grinned, having expected that she would come up with another way to dodge the question. "And why would that be?"

"Although both genders for a child appeal to any mother, myself included," she explained, "I believe I would enjoy raising a female as I exposed her to the many female scientists, such as myself."

Booth snorted. "No. Our daughter is not being sent off to every science camp that rolls by."

"Science is a beautiful thing!" she protested. "As our daughter grows, I will be exposing her to the many sciences!"

Booth chuckled and leaned towards her stomach before he whispered to the child, "Don't worry, I won't let her turn you into her Squint Jr."

Bones playfully shoved him.

"Besides, I think we're having a boy," Booth informed, facing back towards her.

"What lead you to that conclusion?" she asked.

He smirked. "Fatherly instinct."

Brennan smiled, understanding his play on words. But instead of refuting his logic, she chose to let him believe what he wanted; she would raise her child in the sciences, all the same. She leaned down and kissed Booth, happy to be having a child with him.

"But we do know one thing about him," he murmured against her lips.

"What?" she asked between kisses.

Booth pulled back a little to answer. "He's going to have the best parents any kid could ask for."

Brennan snapped back to the present, looking back at Booth.

And Brennan felt a deep, longing in her heart for that life. She wished for it, and, from just that snippet, she missed it. It felt as if she had been entranced in a movie, only to watch the end credits roll by and make her realize how much she wanted to live in that movie.

She somewhat pitied Booth. He remembered every bit of their last seven years. He had tasted the fruit of their happiness, had been given the tree, but he was now unable to keep it.

"Bones, I better be heading home," he murmured, not really noticing that she had been lost in her thoughts; he had been lost in his own. "I'll see you tomorrow." He walked out of her apartment, assuring her, "Call me if you need anything."

Brennan nodded, and he turned and left, leaving his toothbrush behind.

She had never felt so alone. This was so much worse than when she had been truly alone, back when her family left her. Because, now, when she finally began to long for someone's company, she didn't have it. She envied her alternate ego, the one who had been living in 2011 with everything one could dream of. She had a family, friends, a career… It was something this Brennan never got the chance to feel. Something that the man with the pipe stripped from her.

Reviews make the words flow… ;)