A/N: A lot of people have asked about Booth's email address, where the '1989 comes from'. The answer is this, according to my calculations (granted, they're not that reliable) Booth graduated high school in 1989. Coincidentally, i was born that year, so I figured it was fate. :)

A/N2: Also, I wanted to make clear that the emails you read, aren't necessarily all in response to one another. If one email is supposed to respond to another one, I'll reference something from that previous email or there will be a 'RE:' in the subject line. I'm sorry if that's confusing, I just figure they probably email each other a lot (yes they are so real!), so we're sort of seeing just a few of the emails here and there.

A/N3: (last one I promise!) This story is set before Verdict in the Story (where did that title come from anyway? What Story?) So Russ and Max are still in prison.

TO: stripedsocks1989atgmail. com
FROM: boneswith2phdsathotmail. com
SUBJECT: Interview

Scrabble your way into Jared's brain? I take it that you two haven't resolved your disagreement yet.

I have another tv interview soon. My publicist thinks it's a good idea to start promoting it now that the movie has begun shooting. I tried to dissuade her, especially after how awful the last one went, but she insists. She's really quite stubborn.

I can't say that I'm looking forward to it, my social inadequacies only seem to be amplified by tv cameras. And this time I won't even have you there to tell me what I did wrong so that I can improve, but I've already prepared an answer for any questions involving children or 'advice' for unpublished authors.

It will be on November 13th, if you're interested in seeing it.

Temperance

--

Booth Residence
Pittsburgh, PA
September 23rd
12:26pm

"Damn." Susan swore under her breath, eyes shut tight against the pain.

"Sorry babe." James responded softly, he winced visibly as he continued applying a healing crème to the red, blistered radiation burns that spread across her back.

"Oh, it's alright." She sighed, looking up and out the window. Wishing to get her mind elsewhere, she asked, "How are Seeley and Jared? I feel like I haven't seen them in days."

"They were just in here yesterday."

"I know. It's just…time passes so much slower when I spend all day in bed and sleeping. I hate this."

James nodded but she couldn't see him. "They're doing what they're always doing. Fighting."

Susan frowned, "I should talk to them, try and found out what's wrong."

"Why? They've always fought and they've always worked it out."

Susan shook her head, wig and scarf-less as she would only be in front of him. "It's different now, can't you tell? It's not like when they were children and they fought over the TV remote. It's deeper."

James nodded. "I've noticed. But there's nothing we can do."

"What do you mean? We're their parents. We'll punish them."

"Oh really? They're grown men, how do you propose to do that?" James smiled softly at her indignant expression.

"I'm their mother; I can still lay down the hammer if I want to."

Rascal, who sat beside Susan's feet on the floor, looked up inquisitively at the irritation in her voice.

James nodded again, smiling as he turned her gently back to face away from him and he continued tending to the ugly burns, "I'm sure you would try and find a way, but…you can't. Not this time."

"What? Why not?" Her frown deepened. They were her sons; she'd knock their heads together if she darn well pleased, especially if they needed it.

"You just said why Suze. They're not kids anymore, and they are not fighting because they don't know how to share. There's something else going on and it's up to them to fix it." He felt her bare shoulders slump beneath his hands and he leaned forward, twisting to look at her face, "okay?"

She looked at him for a long time, wishing she didn't understand his point of view as much as she did. She turned away and again looked outside at the cloudless blue sky.

"I just hate to see them hurting."

Joseph sat back, squeezed her shoulders in understanding and set to finish his task.

--

Booth Residence
Pittsburgh, PA
September 25th
10:45am

Jared's mind awoke before his eyes, and he quickly discovered that his brain was angry. He was still in his clothes that smelt of beer and sweat, lying face down on the small twin bed that was shoved in between the outside wall and the washing machine.

Groaning, he opened one eye, not too surprised to find his surroundings blurry and spinning. Across from him he saw the table used to fold clothes fresh from the dryer, and below it, his duffel bag looking as if he'd just picked up the bottom and dumped the clothes on the floor.

He screwed his eyes shut at the sight of sun filtering in through the small window as it fell across his face. He felt as if his skull had exploded and the only thing keeping his brain from leaking everywhere was his tightly gelled hair.

Slowly, he rolled of the bed and, clutching his head, he staggered across the room, opened his door and half walked, half dragged himself to the kitchen.

Had he been a religious man, he might have thanked God for the hang-over strength aspirin he found there. He turned on the faucet and stuck his mouth under the stream of water, gulping it into his parched throat.

Feeling a little more awake and a little less like a semi had parked on his head all night, he straightened and made a face at the foul smell surrounding him. He shuffled back across the dining room to the laundry room to find a clean shirt. He swore when he remembered he'd been putting off doing laundry and had no clean clothes, ironic since he slept not three feet from the washer and dryer.

Though it pained him to do so, he rolled his eyes at himself and started the long, difficult task of scaling the stairs. He gripped the banister when he started to sway and made another pained face, deciding he would rather accompany his ex-girlfriend and her three high-maintenance friends to a shoe store during a sale than try to climb those stairs in that moment.

Finally, after what felt like years, he was at his old bedroom door and opened it quietly, holding his breath and hoping his mother was asleep. He let out a sigh of relief when her rhythmic breathing reached his ears and he moved as quickly as he could across the room to his dresser, taking great pains not to make the dresser drawers squeak.

"Jared?" his mother asked quietly, rolling over in bed.

He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of her voice and quickly finished pulling on his blue 'Basketball is Life' t-shirt.

"Hey," he said awkwardly, "I, um, I didn't mean to wake you. I'll go."

"No, don't go. I wasn't really sleeping anyway."

Jared stopped his exit near the foot of the bed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He could feel his mother's stare on him and made a point not to look in her direction. She'd always been able to read him just a little too well.

"How are you Jared?"

"Fine. You?"

"I'm alright," she paused, "how are things with you and Seeley?"

He froze and pursed his lips, not wanting to lie to his mother, he changed the subject, "you up for a little walk?"

She knew he was avoiding the question, but there was something like excitement in his voice, so she took the bait. "Why? Where do you want to take me?"

Jared shrugged, "I've just got a little surprise. Do you want help?" He offered as she started to get up from the bed.

"No, I'm not an invalid, thank you very much" She protested. Even so, she took her time getting out of the bed, her energy levels far below normal. Jared helped her with her robe and they slowly made their way across the foyer to the master bedroom door.

"Close your eyes." He said before opening it. After rolling them, his mother did.

Only his father had slept in the room recently, and only every once in a while, preferring to share the small twin bed in Jared's room to sleeping alone in the large queen bed of his own. This left everything largely as it had been a few months ago, before all hell broke loose in their world.

The walls were painted the same light shade of pink as Jared remembered. There was white dresser and armoire as well as the cast iron bed that had been Jared's great grandmother's. Where the white rose comforter had been there was now a plain brown blanket, the comforter having taken up residence in Jared's room with his mother.

"Okay, stand here and just wait a second." Jared placed Susan in the middle of the floor facing the glass French doors that opened out onto a second floor balcony.

"What are you doing Jared?" His mother asked, a smile in her voice as she knitted her eyebrows together, feeling his presence beside her leave.

"No peeking," was his only response.

She felt him return to her side and instinctively reached for his hand. She could smell fresh air and fresh cut grass and knew he'd opened the doors, "can I open my eyes now?"

Jared smiled at her impatience, "Yes. Open them."

When she did, the look of surprise, followed by sheer joy on her face erased all traces of his hang over.

"Oh Jared," she started to move toward the balcony, "it's beautiful."

Jared stuck his hands back in his pockets, and grinned. On the balcony he'd built a few planters boxes at a height so she wouldn't have to bend over, and filled them with flowers and herbs he knew she liked to grow.

"I know it's kind of late in the season and it's getting cold but I thought, you know, what the hell, "he shrugged, "if you can't get to your garden, I'll bring the garden to you. I know how much you love it and all."

She reached out and touched the leaves on a basil plant and turned back to look at him. "Come here," she ordered quietly.

Slowly, Jared moved toward her, rambling the entire time, "You've got a bird bath over there. I had to move out a couple of the chairs to make room but I left one for you. I brought up your gloves and a trowel and stuff from the shed and you just let me know and I'll fill your watering can whenever you want. Maybe dad and I can cover this place or something so you can keep them alive all year long, I don't know." He stopped when he reached her and finally met her eyes. "Do you, I mean…is it alright?" he asked quietly, the confident tone he'd been using was gone, replaced by that of a young boy seeking his mother's approval.

With tears in her eyes, Susan cupped Jared's cheeks and smiled. "I love it. Thank you, Jared."

He smiled and removed his hands from his pockets to he could hug her.

"You're welcome."

--

Booth Residence
Pittsburgh, PA
September 23rd
12:33pm

Booth shoved the vacuum into the living room closet with more force than necessary, causing a pile of snow gloves and hats to fall off the top shelf and scatter at his feet. He cursed quietly, gathered them, and threw them back up on the shelf and quickly shut the door.

That done, he turned to go to the basement and inadvertently met Jared's eyes as he came out of the laundry room, no doubt just waking up after his lateness the night before. Almost immediately Jared looked away, out of guilt or anger, neither was sure. He walked straight toward the kitchen, but to do so had to pass directly in front of his brother.

"Jared."

His shoulders slumped; he should have known Seeley wouldn't make this easy on him. He never did. "What?"

Booth sighed heavily and approached him. He leaned on one of the dining room chairs.

"I just…I guess I'm…" he began, he caught Jared's flickered gaze, his jaw set in an unyielding defiance. Booth shook his head, he was too tired for this, "I got those parts you asked for while I was in town. I put them in the garage."

Jared seemed surprised, but nodded, "Okay. Thanks." He said shortly, and quickly left for the kitchen.

Booth took another deep breath, laced his hands and rested them on the top of his head. Having forgotten why he was upstairs, he rolled his eyes at himself and started toward the basement to give that malfunctioning furnace a good stern talking to.

--

"What are you doing?"

Booth looked over his shoulder and then back. "Hey Dad. Just tightening this face plate on the furnace, it was rattling earlier, drove me crazy."

"Oh. Okay." James nodded but stayed at the bottom of the basement steps.

Booth looked again and saw his father still there, "Was there something else?"

James shrugged and sat on the third step from the bottom, "I just finished tending to your mother, she's gotten some burns from the radiation."

Booth stood, looking serious. "Is she okay?"

James nodded and rubbed his face. "She'll be fine. She's resting."

Booth nodded, looking down at the screwdriver in his hands.

"I think we should go out. Your brother and you and me. I feel like I haven't left this house in years."

Booth looked thoughtful, leaning against the deep freezer beside him. "Yeah, I know the feeling, but what about mom?"

"She's got a friend who's been bugging me to come visit her. I think they can handle an afternoon together."

"Okay, how about bowling?"

James smiled, "that sounds great. I'm sure Jared isn't doing anything."

"Cool." Booth turned to put away his tools.

"It's settled then, when you're mother gets done with her radiation treatments, the Booth men will go bowling."

Booth stopped, "Dad wait. I can't. I'm going back to DC when mom's done with her radiation."

James frowned, "What, you can't stay one extra day?"

Booth hesitated, "Well, I mean I have a life to get back to dad. Parker and my team. I mean, I don't-" he tried to explain in a way his father would understand.

James' frown only deepened, "Of course. Wouldn't want to keep you from your life." He said the last word with distaste and ascended the stairs quickly, leaving Booth to regret his words and his decision.

--

Booth Residence
Pittsburgh, PA
September 25th
8:16pm

"Hey."

Jared looked up from the workbench on the far wall of the garage and saw his brother standing in the doorway. He looked back down at his hands where he'd disassembled his .9 mil and was cleaning it. "Hey. What are you doing out here?"

Booth shrugged and moved further inside the garage, feeling that not getting his head bitten off for being there was as good as an invitation as any. "Mom's sleeping again and Dad went to refill one of her prescriptions. I was bored, so I figured I'd come see what you were doing."

Jared nodded but didn't respond, silently, almost obsessively continuing with his task. The giant invisible wall that had been erected between them outside the police station two days before was still standing strong.

The silence stretched out for miles between them, both sure they owed the other an apology but neither was willing to take the first step. Booth wandered around for a while, fidgeting with tools and studying Shelby intensely. It looked as though Jared had washed her earlier.

"I just got off the phone with Parker." He said finally.

Jared looked up; this was a topic they could broach. Their love for the little boy was common ground, perhaps the only one of its kind, "Really? How is he?"

"He's good. He said they were talking about 'families' today in school and decided he wanted a little brother," Jared tensed slightly but Booth continued, pretending not to notice, "Rebecca told him that she couldn't help him in that regard and that if he really wanted one, he'd have to talk to me."

Jared gave him a sympathetic look. "Nice."

"Yeah, I thought so," Booth rolled his eyes, he plucked a half-round file off the wall and began rotating it between his fingers, "I'll have to thank her for that when I get back."

Jared began reassembling his gun, "So what'd you tell him?"

"Ah, I distracted him by promising to take him to a ball game when I got back."

"Just as well, Parker doesn't need that kind of trouble anyway."

Booth paused and looked up at his brother for the first time, though Jared was busy checking to make sure is gun was put together correctly and didn't see. He wondered if he ever knew how proud he was of him. He was a good man, his little brother. A pain in the ass most of the time, but a damn good man.

"I don't know," Booth began casually, "It wasn't all bad, right? I mean, having a brother means there's always somebody to hang out with, so there's always something to do. And somebody's always got your back. We had some crazy times, you know?"

Jared grinned and flicked his gaze over, "That's true. We raised hell."

Booth nodded, a matching grin of his own on his face. "You remember when we were suspended? In the ninth grade?"

Jared frowned for a moment in thought, he'd been suspended lots of times in high school, but only once had he been suspended at the same time as his brother. His smile was renewed as he recalled it, "when we crossed the wires in Mr. Macon's car so that every time he pushed the brake pedal the horn went off?"

Booth started to laugh, nodding, "He was so pissed!"

"We were suspended for three days and were grounded for a month, but it was worth it, man. That guy was such an asshole." Both were laughing now, almost to the point of tears as they braced themselves against the workbench.

When they'd calmed down again Jared finished putting away his things and Booth had wandered out the front of the garage, watching the first of the fireflies as they flickered around the backyard.

"You remember when we got our tattoos?" He asked suddenly.

Jared looked up, surprised by the question. "Yeah. We were drunk, two nights outside Kosovo."

Booth nodded and turned around, "You still got yours?"

Jared lifted the sleeve on his black tee-shirt to reveal the tattoo on his forearm. It was of a skull and crossbones with red eyes and gleaming white teeth, on top it wore a green beret. Behind the skull was a sword that pointed straight up and it was all canopied beneath a green parachute. Under the skull in a black banner it read 'Army Rangers Airborne' in stencil style letters, "It's a real selling point with the ladies." Jared said, with a sly smile.

"I'll bet." Booth responded, rolling his eyes.

"You?"

"Right where I left it." He shrugged, referring to his right upper shoulder.

Jared nodded and returned to his task of changing the oil on Shelby. "So why the trip down memory lane?"

Booth shrugged again, smearing an oil stain on the floor with his boot. "No reason." He sighed and looked up when a cloud moved and big full moon suddenly lit up the whole yard. "So what do you want for dinner?"

"Eh, you know me. I'll eat anything."

"I'll bet that's a big selling point with the ladies too." He responded smoothly.

Jared stopped and turned, meeting Booth grin for grin. "You bet it is."

Booth shook his head and headed for the house. "I'm ordering pizza."

"No mushrooms!" Jared called urgently.

"I thought you'd eat anything." Booth yelled from the porch, already dialing their local pizza place on his phone.

"I will!" Came the stubborn call from the garage.

Booth shook his head and went inside. "Hi, yeah, I'd like a large pizza with everything, extra mushrooms."

--

TO: boneswith2phdsathomail. com
FROM: stripedsocks1989atgmail. com
SUBJECT: Bored to tears

'Bored to tears', I heard that on a Star Trek episode once…you have heard of Star Trek, right? Not Star Wars, Star Trek.

Anyway, that pretty well accurately describes how I feel being back here again. See, my parents don't live in the city of Pittsburgh, more on the outskirts in a small township and around here, outside of joining a bunch of teenagers with a six-pack of beer in a Wal-Mart parking lot, there's not much to do. I could really use a gym right about now. I go jogging for a few miles everyday and do my cardio, but if I don't find a punching bag soon I'm going to use Jared, and he hits back. I mean, I can take the hits, don't get me wrong, it's the trash talk I can't stand.

By the way 'your absence is keenly felt back here in DC'. That's so Bones of you Bones. And I miss you too, your partnership and whatnot.

S.B.