k, here's the next chap, I've nearly edited it to death, so I hope you like.

---

I hate that I have to do this. I don't want to, but I know Misty's right. I have to test them.

I hope they pass.

---

Booth fought not to clench his fists as he stared down into the blazing, defiant fire in April's eyes.

"I asked you a question." He said quietly, his temper barely in check.

April didn't even blink. She glanced down at the half full box of cigarettes on the table and shrugged.

"They aren't mine." She said again in the same bored tone as before. It was partly true, she'd borrowed them from Misty earlier that week.

Booth closed his eyes and the hand Brennan had laid on his shoulder pulled backward. The last thing they needed was for him to blow up, April would completely close off on them if he did that.

The girl sat slouched in her chair at the kitchen table, staring blankly with her arms crossed in front of her. Booth was pacing somewhere behind and Brennan stood beside him, a scrutinizing look on her face.

"Booth, why don't you take a deep breath?" She asked quietly, glancing at the back of April's head.

"I know how and when to breathe all by myself Temperance." He snapped though gritted teeth.

Brennan clenched her jaw in anger and took a step closer to him.

"You need to calm down, now. Take. A deep. Breath." She said softly, pausing for emphasis between each word.

Reluctantly, Booth turned away from her and took a deep breath, trying to calm down as he knew he should, but it wasn't easy. April had been a completely different girl the past few days and he was at the end of his rope.

When he opened his eyes, they landed on the dark spots on the carpet by the door, evidence of the mud April had tracked in at 2am three nights ago. That had been their first argument. She'd been obstinate and difficult ever since getting home from school that day, but Booth had tried to ignore it. She went out to pick up milk for dinner from the shop around the corner and didn't come back until 2 in the morning. He'd been worried to the point of being sick and she just waltzed in like it was no big deal. He had exploded at her then, screamed at her for the first time. He'd seen the hurt in her eyes as she screamed right back and then locked herself in her room. That was what Brennan was trying to keep from happening now, though it was obvious neither April nor Booth were ready to make amends.

Booth rubbed his face as the silence in the room got thicker, only broken by the ticking of the clock and a dog barking somewhere outside. His mind was again racing, trying to figure out what could possibly be wrong with April these last few days.

Before, everything had been easy. She never argued, she did chores without complaint, sometimes without even being asked. Then suddenly it was like a switch had been flipped. She became obstinate and defiant, argumentative, oppositional. She wouldn't agree with anything he said. They'd argued and fought almost non-stop for three days over everything from getting her to set the table, to waking up on time in the morning. From swearing in front of Parker, to taking things without asking, namely, Brennan's favorite necklace, which she ended up breaking before she returned it.

Along the way Brennan had been in the middle of it all. Sometimes on his side, sometimes on her side and sometimes just on the sidelines, but she was always there. Part of him was thankful for it, and part of him was irritated that she didn't seem to know how to fix what was happening anymore than he did.

It had all come to a head that evening after a phone call with Tommy. Booth had hoped hearing from the boy would help break whatever spell April was under. Instead Tommy said something wrong, God knows what, and April ended up chucking the phone across the room, killing a lamp that got in the way and shattering them both against the wall.

Booth turned around and his eyes landed back on the cigarette box on the table. His lips again, tension immediately returning to his posture. That had really been the straw that broke the camel's back. Up until then he'd let it all go. Released the anger and frustration coursing through him by going for a run or a round or two in the ring at a gym downtown. But this…smoking…this was something he couldn't ignore. This was slow suicide, plain and simple.

Booth chanced a quick glance at Brennan. She was watching him intently, trying to convey her warning to him again with her eyes. She wanted him to calm down. Well this time he couldn't.

"April."

She shifted slightly in her chair but didn't respond.

"Go to your room." Booth almost cringed at how much he sounded like his own father just then, but succeeded in keeping his serious look as she got out of her chair and walked toward the bedrooms.

Sighing heavily, April rolled her eyes as she passed him.

"That's what I was trying to do in the first place if you had just let me go." She mumbled under her breath.

"Don't talk back April." He said sternly, rubbing his hand over his face again. Stressed didn't begin to cover what he was feeling right then.

April didn't speak but Booth could hear the rustle of her clothes as she continued down the hallway and he didn't need to turn around to see what gesture she threw at his back on her way. Brennan's wide eyes said it all.

"Now even I know what that means."

After a few silent moments a bedroom door slamming shut echoed through the apartment and Booth dropped his head back, looking at the ceiling. Brennan, mistaking his gesture for some form of prayer, quietly gathered the dishes and took them to the sink.

When he'd calmed down enough, Booth relaxed his grinding teeth and went to the kitchen, moving to stand beside Brennan.

"She's out of control." He said quietly, shaking his head and staring at the counter. "I don't know what to do here. I mean…when Parker does something, I take away his crayons or give him a time-out. But this…how do I punish her for this?" Booth mused aloud.

Brennan continued washing the dishes mindlessly, her irritation growing every time he used the word 'I' instead of 'we'. She didn't know why it bothered her so much, after all, she neither wanted to be, nor thought she could handle being April's mother, so why did being left out of her training and discipline feel so…unfair?

"You know Booth…maybe punishment isn't what she needs." Brennan said finally, turning toward him.

Booth looked at her as if she'd just recited Shakespeare in Latin.

"Doesn't need punishment?" He said incredulously, "Bones, she was smoking. She…she broke a lamp, she broke curfew she flipped me off for God's sake! How does any of that not warrant punishment?"

Brennan silently extracted her hands from the warm soapy water, dried them and turned to look at him, now standing toe to toe, per usual.

"Booth, everything is not always so..." She frowned, searching for the right term and landed on one that sounded oddly familiar, "black and white. Not with teenage girls, not with people like April. There are…gray areas."

Booth folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. "That sounds funny coming from someone who can't see past her own microscope." His frustration and confusion combined to create stinging sarcasm.

She pursed her lips at his sniping comment and retorted.

"Human behavior isn't logical Booth. It isn't rational and it certainly isn't always right. If I've learned anything from spending all my time with you, I've learned that." She snapped back.

Brennan could feel every nerve in her body tingling, the electricity that was always present when they argued was there as usual, but this time instead of sexual tension behind it, she could feel the hostility. She reminded herself that it was human instinct to protect the young, to be especially sensitive and tense on the subject of child rearing and that it had nothing to do with she and Booth. But for some reason, her emotional side didn't believe her very much.

Booth swallowed at the bite in her words, but didn't give an inch. "Something needs to be done."

She nodded. "I agree. She needs to talk to someone. Not be yelled at, not be threatened, not even be punished. Not right now. She needs someone to find out what's going on."

Booth didn't respond, only glanced over at the table where the cigarettes still lay. Part of him knew Brennan was right, but a bigger part of him screamed that there 'is right and wrong', and a sixteen-year-old girl smoking was wrong. End of story.

He turned back to look at his partner and Brennan could see the unwavering resolve in his eyes.

She sighed. "Just...give me a minute with her, let me see what I can get before you start throwing your alpha male declarations all around."

With that she stalked down the hall and to the door to April's room.

Her first knock received no response, and her second was rewarded with whatever horrible screaming guitar music April had playing being turned up to an almost deafening volume, drowning out any noise that might pass from either side of the door.

Brennan tried the knob, it was locked.

An image of April's bandaged wrists flashed in her mind and an unpleasant feeling of panic hit her. Cutting was a stress reaction, she knew that. If April was anything, she was stressed. At this point, she wouldn't put anything past the troubled girl.

She immediately reached into her pocket and pulled out her Jeffersonian ID card.

Kneeling down in front of the doorknob, she inserted the card and began wiggling the doorknob. When the lock finally released in her hand, she silently thanked those extra lessons from Booth in Black-Ops.

To her relief, she found April lying on top of the covers on her bed, eyes staring unblinking at the ceiling. Not a razor in sight.

In two quick steps Brennan was at the stereo and she flicked it off.

"Do you make a habit of breaking and entering and then messing with people's music?" April asked once the silence had again descended. She lay atop her deep red comforter with her eyes closed, hair splayed around her on the black pillowcases.

Being shuffled around so much growing up meant April didn't really have any posters or pictures with which to cover the walls, so instead Booth painted them white and told her she could create murals with the paint set Angela had given her. Now what had begun as a small, colorful project in the corner was now encroaching upon two of the four walls and part of the ceiling. April also considered the floor to be the biggest shelf in her room and it was therefore littered with paper, books, clothes, CDs, shoes and anything else she decided to drop where she stood.

Brennan found the chaos of it quite…disturbing.

"It's not breaking and entering if it's a bedroom, and you're music was too loud." She said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"In your opinion." April responded, eyes still closed.

Brennan took a deep breath. She liked to tell Booth that it was irrational to be angry, but she had to admit she was just as on edge over April's behavior as he was.

April felt the bed dip beside her and opened her eyes.

"What do you want Tempe?" She asked, sitting up and pushing herself back against her headboard.

"I want to know…what's up." She said, proud to be using a correct form of lingo.

April arched an eyebrow. "The ceiling, the sky, some satellites and special debris…"

"You know what I mean April." Brennan almost smiled, remembering that she'd once answered that question the exact same way.

"If that's not the answer you're looking for then I don't know what you're talking about." Her legs pulled up to her chest as she studied her pale fingers laying across her knees, fidgeting and tugging at her pants.

"April, this isn't you. The way you've been acting it's…it's irrational. The sudden switch in your personality, there has to be a reason. What is it?"

April stopped moving. The woman's blue eyes were wide and curios, waiting for her to speak. She'd never received that look from an adult before. Brennan wasn't trying to justify or minimize her behavior, she was trying to understand it. That both pleased and terrified April.

What if she did understand?

"How do you know it's not me? Maybe it is. Maybe I am a damaged piece of hardware you should send back to the store. If you can't handle this," She said, pointing to herself, "then send me back now, because this is me and it's what you're gonna get."

Brennan shook her head slowly. "We're not sending you back April we…" She cut herself off suddenly and turned to look at April more fully, realization dawning like a new day.

Brennan had read enough body language books to know April's didn't match her tone. Her tone and words were challenging and sarcastic, seemingly brave, fearless. But her body language screamed vulnerable and afraid, her arms wrapped around her legs, hair a curtain on either side of her face, she hadn't tied it back all week.

"April, are you doing this on purpose? Do you think we're going to send you away if you act bad enough?"

April averted her eyes and whispered, "What do I care?"

Brennan felt tears rushing to her eyes, memories of herself coming back and spilling over. Looking at April was like looking into a mirror of the past.

She remembred that. If a family got too close, she'd always act out, give them her worst until they put her back into the system. Every single time she secretly wished they would put up with her and let her stay. And each time they didn't she felt her heart break one more time, affirming her belief that everyone left. It wasonly a matter of time.

Brennan closed her eyes and pushed her tears back inside where they belonged. Turning to April, who was now biting her lip, she spoke quietly.

"April…we're not going to get rid of you, I can promise you that."

April had her chin resting on her knees, stubbornly refusing to meet Brennan's eyes. When she saw out of the corner of her vision that Brennan was hesitantly reaching for her hand, she leapt up from the bed and walked over to the window, her back to the rest of the room.

"You can't promise me anything." She said sharply, her voice shaking with tears.

"April…"

"Just go okay?"

Brennan waited for a moment, watching the girl as she stared outside at the stars, hugging herself protectively.

"Please go." The whisper was barely audible, but Brennan heard.

She nodded and rose, making her way around countless pieces of abandoned clothing and books to the door.

"Goodnight April." Silence was her only reply.

Booth sat on the edge of their bed with his head in his hands. His mind was fried. After almost half a week of zero progress in the case, which wasn't really anyone's fault except the slow lab result process. All he'd wanted to do was relax with the girls, maybe play a game or watch some TV.

Instead he'd stepped into WWIII and couldn't seem to get out.

He heard a sound at the door and looked up to see Brennan walking into the bedroom. He watched as she carefully avoided eye contact with him and went to the dresser they shared, extracting a pair of pajamas and changing silently.

"Well?" He said finally after she'd changed from her jeans to pajama shorts and let down her hair.

Brennan sighed and pulled off her shirt. He was still angry; she could hear it in his voice. She waited until she was completely ready for bed before turning to face him and answer.

"She's scared Booth."

He frowned. "Of what?"

"Of…being hurt, being abandoned. She doesn't think we'll keep her if she acts horrible. She's trying to get out before she gets hurt." Brennan explained as best she could, her voice strained with emotion.

Booth walked to the opposite side of the bed, contemplating her words. His frown deepened, he couldn't accept that.

"You're wrong Bones." He said finally, Brennan's head whipped around toward him.

"What do you mean 'I'm wrong'?"

---

They know these walls are like, paper-thin, right?

---

He shook his head, the cocky tone she hated coloring his voice. "April's smart, she knows we would never hurt her."

Brennan stood straight with her hands on her hips, her patience all but gone. "No, Booth, she doesn't know that. What she knows is that her entire life people she trusted have left her behind. Everyone she's ever cared about has abandoned her, her mom, her dad,every single foster family…even you Booth. She's trying to protect herself from being hurt again."

Booth frowned turned away, struggling with what he thought was right and what Bones knew to be true. He'd been raised in a home where the punishment always fit the crime. There were no free passes and he felt he was a better man because of it, now why couldn't he get her to understand that?

"It's for her own good Bones." He said, running a hand through his hair. "She can't act like this. She needs to trust us."

His calmness grated her, he was so sure of himself, so convinced his way was the right way. It was a good thing there was a bed between them, she was riled enough to consider causing him series bodily harm if he looked at her the wrong way.

"She doesn't know how Booth! You can't just tell her to trust you and expect she will, she can't. And did you ever stop to think that maybe what's best for her would be for you to stop being so blinded by your stupid rules and give her a break?" She screamed, throwing all her patience and reason out the window.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand, Bones, you're not a parent! You don't know what it's like to have someone depend on you for guidance and protection!" Booth bellowed. Almost as soon as the words left his mouth he wanted to kick himself.

The silence was deafening as they stared into each other's flushed faces. Booth knew his words were insensitive and just plain wrong, but for some reason he was too mad to care, no matter how hard he tried.

Brennan quickly replaced her hurt with anger and stepped forward, speaking in a dangerously low tone.

"Well, Booth, you've never been abandoned, so you couldn't possibly understand what that fear is like either, could you?" Without another word she turned and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

---

They don't deserve this…I don't deserve them. God…what have I done?

---

Oh that pesky angst train...