Author's Note: So, I'm not sure that I like this chapter. I can't pinpoint why though. Eh, whatever. I'd like to say that although I want Hannah to disappear, and things to go back to the way they were with B&B, I don't actually hate Hannah. She kinda annoys me sometimes, but I don't think she's the root of all evil. So I let her explain herself a little this chapter, because I believe that she truly does care about Booth. I'm still a die hard B/B shipper though, so I'll go ahead and tell you that she's about to make her exit! YAY! And as always, thank you immensely for the great reviews!

I'm giving up the ghost of love

In the shadows cast on devotion

She is the one that I adore

Queen of my silent suffocation.

~Bittersweet, Apocalyptica

Hannah was pacing a rut into the living room carpet. Every few seconds she'd pull her bottom lip into her mouth, bite it several times, and then let it go again. She'd imagined at least a hundred different scenarios in the short time she'd been home, and each one only made her feel more anxious. She glanced at her watch again, even though she had just checked it moments before. She tried to figure this out, tried to make sense of just how and when she had gotten here, but her brain refused to work.

Hannah was a smart woman – she knew she was. She was good with people, had an abundance of common sense, and a warm heart. She was never one to toot her own horn, but she also believed in being your own cheerleader. All of these were things that she used in her life every day, and part of the reason she believed she made such a great journalist. Lately, though, none of these things seemed to balance themselves out. Every effort she had made had ultimately failed, if not ended in complete disaster. Every time she tried to share what she considered the best parts of herself with her boyfriend and his friends, things just blew up in her face. She was bewildered, and at a complete loss for what she was supposed to do now. Things between her and Seeley had felt strained lately, and she had truly had nothing but the best of intentions when it came to tracking down his dad. Her love for him, and the desire to make some grand gesture of love had blinded her, something that had never happened before. She had been so intent on doing something amazing for him, that she had apparently left all that common sense of hers on the curb.

Frustrated, the journalist huffed and sat down heavily on the couch. Her gaze fell on the end table, and on the old black phone that rested there. The sight of it instantly made her think of Temperance, and she replayed over and over again how the scientist had reacted to Booth's dad. She'd been protective, almost downright feral to the older Booth. In her short time here, Hannah had never seen the other woman so passionate. She was certain that, had Steven Booth even tried to so much as touch his son, Temperance Brennan would have ripped him apart. She thought of how the sight of his father had frozen Seeley to the place where he stood, and the look of anguished disbelief that had shadowed his handsome face. As her thoughts traveled down that path, she recalled how Temperance had taken his hand, and that small act had seemingly brought him back to himself.

Hannah stared at the old phone even harder, as if at any moment it might stand up off the end table and answer every question she could think to ask. As she regarded the telephone, the memory of just whose idea it was to give it to him replaying itself in her mind, Hannah's heart hurt. There were many things she knew about Seeley, but she knew without a doubt that they were nowhere near as many as Temperance knew. For every one step she took with Seeley, she still felt as if the other woman were ten steps ahead of her. Temperance Brennan had been nothing but civil to her, nice even. She'd been supportive of her relationship with Seeley, and Hannah had never felt as if the two women were in competition. Which was a very good thing, she figured, because Temperance apparently had the advantage.

The sound of the door opening catapulted the blonde woman to her feet in the span of a breath, which she held as she waited for her boyfriend to appear. When he did, he looked tired, and shaken in a way that she wasn't sure she'd ever seen before.

"I'm sorry," She blurted, unable to hold it in, "So sorry, Seeley, for everything."

"It's okay," He replied gently, managing a weak smile

"No, it's not," She insisted, "I made a huge mistake. I jumped to conclusions and never bothered to get the real story, and you got hurt in the process."

Booth's nerves felt raw, a sensation he hadn't experienced in quite some time. He also felt exhausted, and emotionally drained in a way that he hated. He did not want to accept that even now, the very sight of his father rendered him immobile and speechless. He was a grown man, damn it, not a scared child. He pushed the thought away and focused on his girlfriend again. She was worried, and apologetic, and mortified at the way her surprise had panned out. He could not say that he was angry with her, because he knew that she had truly been trying to do something nice for him.

He moved to the couch, pulling the petite blonde woman down with him. He took a deep breath, trying to relax the achingly tense muscles between his shoulder blades. Truth be told, he didn't really want to do this right now. He wanted to let the shock numb him, if only for awhile, and forget the disaster and chaos that was currently his life. But he knew that Hannah would not let this go until she'd apologized profusely, and made her guilt known, so it was better to just get it over with now.

"I appreciate the thoughtfulness behind what you were trying to do," He said gently, "But not why you did it."

"I just thought, ya know, that it would be a nice surprise. Not just some meaningless bauble off a department store shelf, but an honest to God gift from the heart."

"I work for the FBI, Hannah," He reminded her, "It's my job to find people. Did you ever stop to think that if I wanted a relationship with my father, I could have found him years ago?"

"I didn't really think it through, Seeley, I know that," She explained hurriedly, "But I just figured that you'd fought over something stupid when you were younger, and that either your pride or his kept you from making amends. Or maybe that you were angry with him for leaving your family. I honestly never thought it would be something like … well …"

She let her sentence hang, unable to finish the thought. Seeley had never told her that his father beat him, and the thought of it now was unbearable. She had thought Steven Booth was a nice guy when she'd picked him up from the airport; she never would have pegged him for a man who abused his children. There was still so much about the man in front of her that she did not know.

Booth didn't bother to ask why she had never asked him about it. Although he had told her that his dad left when he was younger, and that he had been raised by his grandfather, he had never said more on the subject. Even if she had asked, he would have found a way not to answer. His childhood was not something he liked to think about, and something he liked to share even less. In fact, Bones was probably the only person he had told since Rebecca.

"What even gave you the idea?" He asked then, curious as to how she had arrived at the decision

"My mother always used to tell me this story," His girlfriend began, smiling softly to herself, "About how when she agreed to marry my father, my grandfather was irate. He swore he'd never speak to her again, but she married him anyway. True to his word, several years passed where they didn't speak a single word to each other. My father could see how much it hurt my mother to not speak to grandpa, so he went to my grandfather's house one day and begged him to talk to my mother."

This story was obviously very dear to Hannah's heart; her voice had gotten softer, and she told the story with an obvious inflection of reverence in her tone. The way she had it memorized told Booth that this was a story she had heard many times.

"And did he?" Booth prodded

"It took a lot of sweet talking from my dad, but, yeah. Grandpa agreed to go home with him, and he and my mother reconciled. Grandpa even moved closer to us after that. Anyway, my mother always told me that that single event was one of the things that she loved most about my father. I've never forgotten that story."

"And you wanted to do that for me," Booth stated, smiling

"Yes," Hannah agreed, feeling like she might cry

Booth pulled his girlfriend into a hug, and she clung to him tightly. Above her head, Booth let the façade slip from his face. He could not be mad at her, especially when the effort had such great personal meaning for Hannah, but a very quiet voice in the back of his mind whispered that this would have never happened with Bones. A true statement, but an unfair one since Bones knew the whole story. Still, it was quickly becoming impossible for Booth to ignore the huge gaps between his relationship with Hannah and his relationship with Bones. What had started out as relief and excitement at being able to start fresh was rapidly deteriorating into dismay. It was becoming harder and harder to ignore just how much work and effort and time he had put into his relationship with Bones, and he was no longer certain that he had the energy – or desire – to start over.

Booth had reached a fork in the proverbial road, and he had no idea how to proceed. He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he had given up on Bones too soon, and that despite all of his best efforts, he still loved her deeply. On the other hand, he truly cared for Hannah, and wasn't sure that he could dig himself out of the mess he'd made if he tried. No matter how he looked at it, someone was going to end up hurt.

Brennan was completely unfocused, and for once she didn't fight it. In fact, she welcomed the completely uncharacteristic phenomenon. She sat at her desk, her chin in her hand, staring blankly at the opposite wall. Outside her closed door, life in the lab buzzed and carried on without her. For now, she was content to ignore it completely.

She felt as though she were thinking of many things, and absolutely nothing at the same time. Her thoughts tumbled and collided in the vastness of her genius brain, flitting from one subject to another in an almost nonsensical fashion. Mostly she thought of Booth, wondered how he was feeling and dealing with the sudden appearance of his father. She'd try to focus on the thought, but it wriggled and squirmed and replaced itself with another thought before she could pin it down.

So much had happened in such a short amount of time. Privately, Brennan couldn't help feeling like Hannah was a tornado, whisking itself into her life and leaving nothing but chaos in her wake. So much of her life had been disrupted since the intrepid journalist had appeared in D.C., and Brennan wasn't sure how much more she could handle. Every time she turned around something else was being uprooted, and Temperance had never dealt well with such a loss of control over her own life. She felt as if there was no peace to be found and was beginning to wonder if this was how things were going to be now that Hannah was a permanent fixture in Booth's life.

A knock on her office door startled her enough to make her visibly jump, and her gaze turned sharply to the door. Her heart undeniably fell when she saw Hannah, who pushed open the door hesitantly.

"Hi, Temperance."

"Hello, Hannah," She greeted cordially, keeping her tone even

"I was wondering if you had a minute to talk."

Feeling certain that there was absolutely nothing for them to talk about, Brennan just nodded and gestured to the chair in front of her desk.

"What would you like to talk about?" Brennan queried, straight to the point

"What happened the other day, with Seeley's dad," Hannah began, "I made a mistake."

"Yes," Brennan agreed easily, "Your judgment was erroneous on that point."

"Right, but that whole thing could have been avoided if Seeley would just open up to me."

"I'm not sure I understand," Brennan said haltingly, unsure if she liked where this was going

"He's just so closed off sometimes, I can't help but feel like there's this whole part of him that I don't know. He never talks about his childhood, or his past, or even about you! Every time I try and get him to talk to me about it, he just clams up or changes the subject."

"This sounds like something you should talk to Sweets about, Hannah," Brennan said then, hoping to stop this conversation, "I am not very good at relationships."

"You're his best friend, Temperance. You know him better than anyone. I'm sure Sweets is great, but you're the one I want to talk to."

"I'm not sure what you're asking of me," Brennan replied skeptically

"I just … sometimes it feels like Seeley has this wall, and you're the only one he'll let past it. And I guess I just want to know how you do it, or what I'm doing wrong."

Hannah's answer could not have come as more of a surprise. Brennan had always been told she was the one with the walls, that she was the one who was difficult to get close to. Although she knew that Booth could not be rushed into revealing anything that he did not want to, she had always just accepted that as a part of who he was. She didn't think of it as withholding anything, she simply concluded that he would tell her things when he was ready. To hear his girlfriend describe him as guarded and closed off, well … Brennan had actually thought he was the exact opposite with his girlfriend. After all, they were talking about the Seeley Booth who had shied away from any topic of discussion that even sounded like sex, only to come back from the desert and listen and grin like a fool while his new girlfriend talked about their sex life in the middle of a restaurant.

Meanwhile, in the world outside Brennan's office, Booth strode purposefully through the double doors of the lab. He'd spent a lot of time thinking about everything that had happened, and the more he thought about it the more it confused him. His nerves were still raw, and for once Hannah's presence did nothing to help. He'd gotten up that morning with an express desire to see his partner, and spend time with her in whatever capacity he could. He'd gone straight to his office, going through his morning routine hurriedly. He'd checked his inter office email, finished the one expense report that he'd been putting off for several days, and then made a beeline for the lab. He had no set plan on what he was going to do when he got there, but he didn't really care.

"Hey, G-man," Angela greeted, falling into step beside him, "How you holding up?"

"I've been better," He admitted, "Thought I'd stop in and see Bones. She in her office?"

"Yeah, I'm actually just taking her a few printouts now."

"Reconstruction for a body in Limbo?" He asked conversationally

"Nah, just a few fliers for some pretty sweet looking houses I'd thought she'd like," Angela replied offhandedly

Booth stopped walking, which drew Angela's attention. She also stopped and turned to look at him, confused at the sudden change of pace.

"Bones is moving?" He asked in a dangerously low tone

"Yeah, to be closer to Russ and Amy. Didn't she tell you? She said she was going to tell you."

Angela could tell by the betrayed look on Booth's face that Brennan had done no such thing. The artist's heart sunk as she realized the bomb she had just dropped on him, and not 48 hours after the incident with his father. She wanted to apologize, to take back everything she'd said, but the damage had been done. She had made Brennan promise that she would tell Booth of her plans to move, and she couldn't believe that Brennan had backed out of it.

A loud crack reverberated somewhere in Booth's chest. The armor that he'd guarded himself with for so many years, and reinforced so well in the last few months had finally failed him. The weight of everything that had happened since he'd come back from the desert had finally caused it to implode upon itself, leaving nothing but a gaping black nothingness in his soul. All the things that had gone wrong, all the chances that he'd missed and all the disasters that had been trying so fervently to unsettle him finally won out. His world narrowed, his mind seizing on the information that Bones was going to move. She was finally going to buy a house, and she wasn't even going to tell him. Worse than that, she was going to move away from him – she was going to physically separate herself from him. All of their talk about making it work, her promise that she truly wanted to fix whatever had gone wrong in their partnership no longer mattered. She was going to leave him behind – again.

His heart, that wounded and desperately vulnerable muscle that he claimed to know so much about, screamed and raged in protest. He was being unfair, he was being irrational, he did not give a rat's ass. This was too much. Later he would wonder how he'd managed to let her go all the way to Indonesia for what was supposed to be a year, and yet the thought of her buying a house and physically moving away from him sent him over the edge. Now was not that time, however; now, he was a man who had been dealt one too many terrible surprises in too short a time.

Booth's deadly gaze found and locked on to his partner through the glass of her office door. Tunnel vision set in, and without so much as a word or glance in Angela's direction, Booth stalked toward the office he knew so well.

Whether by fate or coincidence, Hannah had stood from the chair and paced her way to the back of the room, against the wall directly opposite Bones. She seemed to be mulling something over, and both women were too preoccupied to notice Booth's approach until he literally exploded into the room.

"What the hell are you thinking!" He yelled, unable to control himself

"What?" Brennan replied, to shocked to say more

"I just ran into Angela," He ranted, "And, come to find out, you're moving!"

Brennan's heart plummeted at his words. She had never told him about her plans to buy a house; she'd promised Angela that she would, and she had meant to the other day before his dad showed up. After that, she had completely forgotten about her impending plans to move.

"Booth," She started, keeping her voice low and calm

Booth, however, was apparently not having any of it.

"Not only are you moving," He continued, "You're moving farther away!"

"Away from what?" She repeated, confused and trying not to be defensive

"From everything, Bones, from Angela, from the lab, from me!"

"Booth, can you just calm down so we can talk about …"

"NO!" He shot back, cutting her off

Brennan had never seen her partner this angry before. She'd seen him upset, frightened, frustrated, and any number of other things, but she'd never before seen him so ready to burst. He took several quick steps toward her, coming to stand across the desk from her. She was not afraid of him, although he was very intimidating in his current state, but she had absolutely no idea how to handle an obviously irate Seeley Booth.

"You can't move," He said firmly

"What?" She replied, the first signs of anger coloring her tone

"You. Can't. Move." He repeated, punctuating each word

"Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do?" She challenged

"It's not happening."

"You're being ridiculous, Booth," She chided tersely

"I mean it, Bones," He threatened, and her face flushed angrily in response, "What about the other day, when you said you wanted to work on our partnership?"

"That has nothing to do with this," She insisted

"The hell it doesn't! You're literally separating us, putting distance between us. How are we going to work on anything then?"

"You're not making any sense," And she shook her head, "We'll still work together, we'll still be partners, and we can work on things. Just like we agreed."

"You didn't even tell me," He hissed, and his anger had not abated

"I was going to!" She protested loudly, "The other day, when we went to breakfast. But I didn't know how, and then your father came back and …"

"You're not moving!" He restated

"Why not?" She yelled back, her temper and confusion getting the best of her

"Because you'll change everything!" He finally admitted, slamming his fists down on her desk and leaning across the gap toward her

"You already changed it!" She spat out, unwittingly leaning toward him in response, "I didn't have to do anything! You said you were moving on, and you did. Now it's my turn, this is me moving on!"

"By leaving me? By putting literal miles between us? How is that fair?"

"Who said anything about fair?"

They were in each other's faces now, chocolate eyes sparking and igniting the flame in azure. Despite their proximity to each other, neither their voices nor their anger had abated. They were in the heat of it now, neither sure if they were fighting for or against each other. Anger and confusion and sadness quarreled with each other, then melded together and added their strength to a myriad of other emotions.

"How was it fair to ask me to take a chance on the one thing that I can't stand to lose?" She accused, "You wanted me to gamble everything in the hopes that it might work out. And how was it fair to turn right around and tell me that you had to move on, when seconds before you spouting off how you just 'knew'?"

"That has nothing to do with this!" He retaliated

"It has everything to do with it! You changed it, you changed everything. You got what you wanted, and now I'd like to try and do the same. Now you come charging in here, yelling about how you forbid me to move! You accuse me of being unfair, yet you're the one who demanded an answer without giving me any time to think! You gave up, Booth, you gave up on us – on me."

"You rejected me! I told you I loved you, promised you thirty or forty or fifty years, and you shot me down! What did you want me to do?"

Something in her expression had changed. She was still angry, still prepared to fight until she was breathless, but the look on her face was different. Before she had simply been angry at being attacked, at the way he was trying to impose his will upon her, but now … now the anger was different. Older somehow, as if it were an anger that she had grown accustomed to. Underneath that anger was something akin to despair, and that more than anything seemed to reach out to him.

"You never said that," She said, the anger fading

"Said what?"

"You never said you loved me," She pointed out

"Yes I did," He protested, "I told you I knew, that I was that guy …"

"You made me all the promises," She agreed, her voice suddenly heavy, "Except that one."

Hunched over her desk, his face literally only inches away from hers, he could see every nuance in her expression. He could see the defeat in her eyes, and in his single mindedness that emotion seemed to reach out and slap him. Only as he came back to the world around them did he realize that he'd somehow just gotten some kind of confession from her, just discovered some secret that she had managed to keep hidden. His brain tried to make the connection, tried to pick up on whatever clue she had so unwillingly left for him, but nothing made sense.

Behind him, the sound of someone clearing their throat made Booth's blood run cold.