Brennan felt Booth's hand at her waist, gently steering them through the other bodies she saw meandering through the gallery. She could feel her eyes burning and willed herself to stop them from tearing up. The cool night air hit them and Brennan saw Booth start toward the valet.

'Can we…could we please go sit by those trees?' She asked, hating how small her voice sounded. Brennan saw Booth pause and then pull her gently towards the cluster of trees surrounding a stone bench. Wordlessly, she let herself drift down towards the chair. Booth sat beside her, silent, his hands clasped together at his knees.

At one point in time, we only had each other.

Miguel was right, she supposed. The Jespers' had been the first home she had been put into after Russ had left. Fifteen and scared out of her mind, Miguel had been her guardian angel almost. He had protected her, seemed interested in her well-being. After having the world pulled out from under her, she remembered thinking it was nice having someone who genuinely cared. She was able to cope with Charlie, with the kids at school, with the stares and whispers – all because she knew at the end of the day she had someone she could relate to, seek comfort from.

Oh, she had had a crush on him. Brennan smiled, remembering the long-limbed teenager Miguel had been. He had seemed to perpetually brood, and her young teenage mind had found that dashing. But he had been her foster brother, and she slowly began to revel in the fact that while Russ may be gone, she now had another older brother; one whom she thought would stick around.

And then one mild summer day, she had woken up and discovered Miguel gone. Jennifer and Charlie had been in hysterics, she recalled. But that had barely registered as she had stared out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Miguel's brown skin and worn green jacket. He had never come back and Brennan found herself alone once again.

He left me. What right does he have, coming back in my life? Expecting me to just…

Brennan blinked and shifted her face towards the night sky, absently picking out the constellations she could see in the night sky. The moon hung like a crescent amongst the dark, casting its pale glow over the city. Brennan recalled the Greek lunar deity Selene, and in a moment of rare whimsy, imagined she saw a beautiful woman with a pale face, dressed in robes and with a half-moon on her head, charging across the sky in her chariot.

Booth nudging her shoulder broke her out of her thoughts. Brennan turned to regard her partner, who was studying her intently.

Releasing a sigh, she spoke. 'I'm fine Booth.'

No answer came, and Brennan could feel his gaze on her skin.

'I'm fine.'

'Bones-'

'Booth,' Brennan said, her voice slightly raised. 'I just…can we please not pursue this line of questioning tonight?'

She saw Booth scratch his nose out of the corner of her eye, shivering as a soft breeze stole over them. Suddenly, some heavy and warm was placed around her shoulders.

'I think we should talk about this.'

Brennan pursed her lips. 'You want to talk about this. I do not.'

'Keeping everything bottled up inside and then stewing over it isn't going to help Bones!'

'Well, I'm sorry if my stewing offends you!'

A pause. 'You have no idea what that means, do you?'

The patronizing tone she heard in his voice stung, and she felt the anger start to build. 'I'm sorry that I'm not as well-versed in pop culture as you are, Agent Booth. That doesn't mean you can belittle me.'

Booth looked at her, shocked. 'What? Bones, I never-'

Getting abruptly to her feet, Brennan shrugged off his jacket.

'What are you doing?' Booth asked, standing.

'Giving you back your jacket,' Brennan answered, shoving it towards her partner. She watched his eyes narrow, his forehead furrow.

'It's cold out here. You need-'

'It doesn't matter what I need!' Brennan heard her voice climb, tried desperately to grab hold of what she was feeling and tamp down on it. She could sense all the anger, hurt, disappointment clawing their way to the surface, and she felt her mind become overwhelmed.

'It doesn't matter what I need!' Brennan repeated, choking. 'What I needed was to have my parents come back! What I needed was to have Russ come back! What I-' A gasp for air. 'What I needed was for Miguel to come back! But none of them ever did! Everyone I need just leaves. They all just leave.' Her voice ended in a whisper, and Brennan tried to ignore the painful lump in her throat. What was she doing? She never let herself be this unguarded around someone, she never felt this comfortable just letting someone know what she was feeling.

Except Miguel.

Brennan squeezed her eyes shut, the hand that was still holding out Booth's coat dropping to her side. Oh god, what was happening to her? A flash and she was sitting at the window again, watching someone with an FBI jacket walk away from her. Her eyes sprang open, centering on Booth.

He's going to leave too. He's going to realize that he's just wasting his time on someone who's only good with people who don't have a pulse.

But he had told her last night that he would be there when she needed him.

Miguel said that too.

'I have to…I have to go,' she admitted shakily, feeling her feet start to walk away from Booth.

'What? Bones! Wait!'

She felt his hand close around her upper arm and she jerked free. Glancing briefly at his eyes, Brennan hesitated when she saw the hurt reflected in them.

'Don't do this, okay? Don't shut yourself off from me.'

'I'm not. I just need to…I just need to leave.'

She twisted around and heard her footsteps echo as Booth remained silent behind her, watching her go.