A/N: Thanks to the people that reviewed (Anon 123 and thedoctorlovesme). Even though there were only two - *eyes the other 167 readers* (Though I'm really happy that that many people read this!) - they were great.

Anon 123: If that's the case, then I did my job right ^-^ I love you too! XD

thedoctorlovesme: Thanks for the compliment! I try. :)

On with the story - this is Angela's PoV...

Booth's God is cruel. First he took him away from us. From her. Now He's taking her away from us.

She had been getting better! There was colour, there was life! But, it felt like it was only there for a moment. A moment that I wish I could hold onto, stopping time in that instant.

She had been smiling. A smile that hinted of sadness. A smile that never reached the ice blue eyes. A smile, nonetheless.

It wasn't for a while that I noticed the changes, because they weren't really changes.

She had already accepted her fate, without telling us...

Independent was Brennan's middle name.

When she told us she had cancer, terminal cancer, it was already too late to anything but hug her and cry.

She didn't cry. No, Bren had used all of her tears up when Booth died.

She wasn't whole without him.

I always said that they would be together in the end.

I didn't mean like this.

"Angela," Brennan asked, wincing at the way her voice sounded like sandpaper against sandpaper.

"Yes?" the artist fixed her gaze onto her friend lying on the sterile white sheets.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry..."

"Sorry? For what?"

"For-" she broke off, coughing feebly. She waved away the hand Angela offered in help. "For not being a better f-frien...d," she wheezed out.

"I," she took a shuddering breath, "I know I haven't always been able to-to help you when you...need it, but you've always been there...for me."

"No, sweetie, Bren. You've been the best friend a girl could wish for!" Angela objected immediately, feeling tears spring to her eyes.

"I was...an inadequate friend," she furrowed her eyebrows, pulling down the scars along her face.

"Don't you believe that, Bren," Angela responded fiercely through the tears.

"I... I thank you for...for believing that," Brennan managed, fighting to keep her eyes open.

Angela offered her a wavering smile, "Sleep tight, sweetie, I'll see you tomorrow," she promised, getting up and dusting off the seat of her pants.

Brennan nodded, "Tomorrow," she repeated.

Angela walked out of the room with a heavy heart, Brennan's words weighing down on her as though they had a physical force of their own.

The funeral is a private occasion.

In Brennan's will she asked that it only be immediate family that attended. We were all among the names specified.

Cam. Jack. Parker. Nigel-Murray. Zack. Fischer. Arastoo. Wendell. Clark. Caroline.

I feel numb, but at the same time, it feels like the world around me is too bright, too loud, too real.

The casket is lowered into the ground, roses and daisies adorning the top.

We stand around the hole, looking down at the mahogany coloured oak.

Max picks up some dirt first, carefully sprinkling onto the casket. "A father shouldn't outlive his daughter, especially if that father is me," he mutters, glaring up at the sky. "I'll see you one day again, sweetheart..."

Russ and his daughters and wife follow suit. "Bye Tempe... I'll make sure that nobody ever forgets you. Not ever." His eyes are hooded and fierce, brimming over with loss and pain.

Parker drops the dirt down next. "Daddy loves you. I love you. Everyone here loves you. So why'd you go, too?" he asks brokenly.

Time seems to blur together for an instant, speeding up until I'm the last one to go.

"I...I..." Is all I manage to get out coherently before the lump in my throat thickens and I can't talk at all, overcome by sobs and shaking.

Jack grips my shoulder comfortingly, but I don't feel the touch, not really.

He guides me away from the casket that Bren now resides in, back to the group of mourners.

I look over my shoulder, watching the men begin to fill up the hole, Russ and Max working diligently to help them.

A movement behind the workers catches my attention. A wave good-bye.

A man has his arm around the waist of a woman who has one hand clasped over the arm, holding it to her. The free hand is the one waving.

Brennan.

She looks like she did 7 years ago, a fierce joy shining in her eyes. Booth smiles too, nodding his head to me.

They turn and walk away, hand in hand. A breeze picks up and Brennan's skirt catches in the wind, pulling apart. They turn and wave a last time.

Then the couple disappears, moving on.

I offer a small wave of my own, unable to look away.

Parker tugs at my arm.

"Maybe there are happily ever afters," he whispers through the tears.

/N: A bittersweeting ending, don't you think? But, I kinda had to... I'm not (that) cruel...! So, tell me what you think. Love it? Hate it? Leave a contribution in the little box?

Last reminder: I don't own Bones!