Update! As always, i don't own Bones, read and review if you can! Thanks a lot to everyone!

"What the hell are you doing here?" Booth snarled, looking at the psychologist. Sweets looked at him for the first time in almost fearful worry. His eyes flashed something that Booth couldn't distinguish, so when the 'Little boy', as Booth liked to call him, tried to make his way in, Booth allowed it. He stared at him and took in a large gulp of air.

"What's wrong, Sweets?"

"Is Angela still here?" he asked, in which Hodgins got up quickly and approached them.

"What's Angie got to do with this?" Hodgins asked, feeling a surge of protective instinct over both women in the guest room. Sweets let out a sigh and tilted back his head, shaking it.

"So, yeah. I need to talk to both of you. Right. Now." Sweets emphasized before waving them over, hoping that Brennan wasn't awake in the other room. Booth fallowed, fuming visibly, while Hodgins tried to puff himself up and look a lot more sure then he was. When they were in the kitchen, Sweets looked up carefully.

"Look, I'm not sure, but Booth, Hodgins. I think that Dr. Brennan may be feeling more than a little bit of strain over what happened,"

"No shit, Sherlock," Hodgins stated, almost approaching Sweets violently. Sweets held up his hands and shook his head.

"Hey, don't get angry at me! I'm simply stating what we were all thinking. Are we all on the same page now?" he asked, almost scared, and looked at both men. Booth nodded, his fists clenched. Hodgins was looking away, but nodded reluctantly.

"Good. Now, here's the thing. Angela called me earlier with some concerns…It seems that Dr. Brennan has been unusually fixated with death as of late…"

"She's a forensic anthropologist…She's always fixated on death!" Booth stated, mainly trying to defend the fact that he himself hadn't noticed it. Sweets, once more, held his hands up and shook his head.

"You don't understand. As in, not as a scientist. Angela…Angela was afraid that…"

"Afraid that what, Sweets?" Hodgins voice ordered immediate telling, but Sweets was unsure if he could do what the men actually wanted him to. To tell them felt like betrayal, but as a psychologist, he knew he had to. As a friend, he knew he had to. And if Booth burst in there, who knew what would happen?

"Dr. Brennan was fixated on a bottle of Ibuprofen and confided in Angela that she's been thinking of the dead in a less then…Scientific way. Do you understand what I mean?" he asked, looking at them and hoping for understanding. His eyes hovered on Booth while his eyes widened and he clenched his jaw, his eyes hard.

"I believe she's suffering from Post Partum depression, Agent Booth. And I wish that you'd stop looking at me like that," he added, a small amount of fear creeping into his voice. Booth felt himself tremble as he shook his head.

"Not Bones. Bones is NOT depressed. She's just…Grieving…" he stated, though he faltered off. All of his time of knowing Temperance Brennan, he knew that she had a hard way of dealing with things. He knew that she dealt with things by pushing them aside. What had happened to that part of her?

"I'm afraid that the grief process, while inexact, is not this. Booth, it's not impossible to treat. It's very common, in fact. And then put this stress onto it…"

"Not Bones! Alright?!" he stated, and quickly walked away, his eyes almost overflowing with tears of anger, of fear, of sadness. The memories of Hodgins, of Booth's father, of his mother, invaded his thoughts, and he shook them off. Sweets was left standing awkwardly next to Hodgins, who looked at him sympathetically and then looked at the door, fear and anger at Booth showing in his eyes.

"What right does he have?" Hodgins asked harshly, and Sweets shook his head.

"No, no, no! We have GOT to stop putting this blame on each other. God! It's totally not radical," he stated, and with Hodgins look at him, he rolled his eyes. "It's not uncommon, but Agent Booth…He wouldn't have walked away without a good reason, alright? So do you want to come with me to talk to her or not?" he asked. Hodgins stiffened and nodded, before walking with the psychologist into the guest room, where Angela was speaking softly to a half aware Brennan.

"It's okay, Sweetie. It's okay…"

Sweets knocked on the wall and Angela looked up, surprised.

"Wheres…" she asked, but Hodgins shook his head. She immediately shut her mouth, though by the way that Brennan stiffened, she knew what Angela was about to say.

"Dr. Brennan. How are you today?" Sweets asked, standing next to the woman. She stiffened more and tried to back into Angela, to hide or blend in, but to no avail.

Hodgins, feeling more comfortable, sat on the bed and wrapped his arm around Angela and tried to stay totally calm. This was all he could do. He was scared beyond belief, but he didn't want Dr. B to know that much.

"You told him, didn't you?" Brennan asked, almost accusingly, though she didn't make any move to slip away from Angela's comforting arms. Angela sighed and nodded, parting her dark hair.

"I'm sorry, Sweetie. You scared me. I'm worried,"

Hodgins nodded in agreement, even if Brennan couldn't see it. Breathing in and keeping in his chest for a few moments, Sweets, sat on the floor, feeling an unwelcome sensation in the room.

"Dr. Brennan, we have to talk. Immediately. If you don't talk, I'll be forced to take action. Do you have anything you need to tell me? Everything isn't alright, is it?" he asked, and he felt his heart drop when she looked up and stared, before shaking her head.

"No. It's not. I don't think it ever will be…"

The tears in her eyes told him this-The old Temperance Brennan was most certainly not there in her eyes.