Hello everyone! So who is beyond excited for the return of Bones? I know I am! There is a bit of angst in this chapter, but there is always a light at the end of the tunnel in these situations ;)

Booth

I have a stabbing stitch in my side. Hot wind is slapping against my face as I run. My legs are pumping as I suck in short, hard breaths.

It's been a few months since my escape from the camp, or at least it feels like it has. I feel like I have lost track of the days, like I have lost control…Nightmares of what I've seen are still persistent when I am lucky enough to catch some shut eye.

Every hour, every minute, every second has been draining the life from me…Have I been away from home for years? Somehow my brain doesn't seem to be working anymore…it wouldn't be the first time…I can't work this out.

I start to wonder if I will be wandering the desert for the rest of my days. Will I become a slave to the mirages (I constantly see) that depict good times past? I see them. All the time out here in the darkness. All the squints, even Zack, Parker, my other FBI coworkers…Bones. It's mostly her. They call out to me, reach for me…but I am never fast enough to grasp their fingers or pull them into a long awaited embrace.

My mind feels cloudy. Vivid then shadowy images come floating in and out. It's literally a constant struggle out in this hell hole- for both body and soul.

I barely remember the taste of food, the comfort of a warm bed, the peacefulness that floods over you when holding a woman's hand. Not just a woman, but the woman.

In the heavy night air, in the transparent desert moonlight, I suddenly feel a sharp pain in my foot. The sting shoots up my leg and suddenly there is no sturdy ground below me. That's when I realize I am toppling down a sand dune. Tiny, serrated rocks slice into my face. With a sickening crash I land in the pit of a muddy lake. I don't know whether to praise the heavens for leading me to water or cursing them for torturing me further in this barren wasteland.

I feel like a fallen warrior. Never before has hopelessness been so strong within me. I want give in and let the murky depths of this ditch whisk me away from all of it.

"Come on Sarge, this is neither the time nor the place to give up."

God. Either this is a hallucination, mirage or ghost. Nowadays they seem to be one in the same. My mind continues to play sick tricks on me.

"Teddy?"

"You know me; I come to your rescue in the roughest of times. Plus I'm awesome at giving advice."

"What are doing here? Here to guide me to the light?" The young soldier snickers at my sarcastic words. I lift my head up from the mud, eyesight suddenly becoming clearer.

"Come on Sarge, you're not a quitter. But I will say that you look worse for wear."

"Do you know what I've been through?"

"Sure, sure, but your a tough guy. Your end is not gonna come tonight. Not here. Not now."

"How do you know?"

"Trust me. I know things."

I can't bite my tongue. "I'm sorry but I'm having difficulty trusting the words of a ghost right now."

"When have I ever failed you?" He says to me winking.

I can't believe what I'm hearing. It's all too much.

"You need to keep going Booth. There are people who love you. These people aren't ready to say goodbye to you just yet."

"Some things just aren't meant to be."

"Hey now, that doesn't sound like the strong, encouraging Sergeant I know. You know? The one who said to me: 'Come on Teddy, just a little further, come on, we're gonna make it!'

I glance up into my younger former comrade's eyes. The blue eyes sparkle with his childish grin. They seem too bright to be a mere projection of a memory.

"S-sometimes you just gotta accept your fate and take it like a man. And life is about change…And people can let go. It's called moving on." My voice is terribly scratchy.

"Not all people can." He says.

"What?...Who? You mean Bones? She's strong, we've both reached an understanding… It's, it's over, we're professionals, that bridge was never ours to cross"-

"Have you ever considered that the path you're supposed to be on isn't always the smoothest?"

"What are you? A prophet? I've tried with her, I can't…I can't do it anymore…I came here to-to"-

"Let go? Let her go?"

"Yes."

"Is that what she wanted?"

"YES! That's what I'm trying to tell you!" I'm panting.

"Then I guess you don't know her as much as you claim to"-

"What?"

"Sarge-don't run, you'll just die…tired."

The old Sniper motto being used with a deeper meaning leaves me speechless. Metaphors...right now I hate them. With that last ringing sentence, his image begins to fade before me like dust on the wind.

"Wait!" My voice seems to echo eerily.

Shifting my weight to my knees, I struggle to stand up in the trench that I've tumbled into. I feel as if I have a better understanding of who I once was. Like I've gotten a second wind, more importantly, a second chance. With a new burst of energy surging in my veins, I take a deep breath and begin to climb back to even ground.

Could this be a kind of miracle in the simplest form? That I have not yet lost the will to live?

Walking on, I grit my teeth and ignore the piercing pain in my legs. I continue to wipe sweat and thick dirt out of my eyes. For what seems like a minute, the newfound strength that I found is already beginning to falter.

Hoping to catch a glimpse of some sparse stars for comfort, I gaze to the sky. A blinding white light hovers above me causing gusts of sand to swirl about.

I quickly become disoriented and feel like I've gone momentarily deaf. All sound has become muffled. I have no idea what's happening, but my legs give out. There seem to be voices, friend or foe, it is impossible to tell.

Tears spring to my eyes; they are neither sad nor happy. I don't know who these people are. A heavy hand on my shoulder gives me comfort.

Someone is holding me up, slowly guiding my feet into the unknown…

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