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By evening, Booth's headache was gone. Since he'd improved during the afternoon, Brennan had decided that it wasn't necessary to call the surgeon back. She changed the bandage on Booth's head and had told him that it looked like it was healing well, which Booth was relieved to hear. Booth didn't want Brennan to put a new bandage over the wound because it was really annoying, but she insisted that one was needed to keep the site clean. Booth let her win the argument. She could see the wound and he couldn't.

A little bored, Booth wathced television for a while. To tell the truth, he had been surprised to see that the apartment had a TV in it when he had first walked into the apartment. He knew that Brennan didn't care for TV that much. Of course, that was Bones and this was Bren and maybe Bren liked TV. Maybe there was a TV in the apartment for her or maybe the TV was for him. He wasn't sure, but he decided not to ask about it. Brennan was sad every time he asked her about something she thought he should know and he was starting to feel terrible about that. He was causing her to be sad and he needed to stop that or at least try.

It was very discouraging though. She seemed to think that all he had to do was say he believed that the other life was a dream and that all of his memories of this life would just come back to him. It wasn't happening and it didn't look like it ever would. He didn't know this world at all. Nothing was right. It was a distorted version of what he knew and h knew he would just have to re-learn everything. To do that Brennan was going to have to help him. He didn't see any other options. He just wished she wouldn't look at him with such a disappointed look when he asked her questions. It made him feel like he was being mean to her.

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They had been sitting on the couch watching a cop show when they heard a knock at the door. Brennan stood up and strode over to the door, opened it and found Jared and Hank standing in the hallway. Stepping aside, Brennan smiled at her brother-in-law and Hank and asked them to come in.

As they entered the apartment, Jared and Hank saw Booth sitting on the couch watching a TV show. Irritated that it was a cop show, Jared sat down next to his brother and sighed in disgust. "You know . . . they never get those right. Why don't you watch something that has a least a little reality in it?"

Booth could now see that that Jared was just as much a pill in this life as he was in Booth's other life. "How do you know, Jared? They do a lot of research to do these shows. Some of them seem to be pretty good to me."

Shaking his head, Jared crossed his arms against his chest. "Well . . . let's just say that being on the force for eight years should help me to understand what's right and what's wrong about a cop show. You know, you should listen to me about cop shows. I'll be sure to listen to you when they do shows about the Army or nightclubs."

Surprised, Booth stared at his brother. "You're a cop? Since when? That dishonorable should prevent that shouldn't it?"

Jared looked at Hank and then back at Booth. "Dishonorable. What the fuck are you talking about? I've never been in the service. and I've been a cop for eight years. You know that . . . What's going on Seeley? You were at my graduation from the academy. Are you still having memory problems?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth picked up the remote and turned the channel to a Sports channel. "Maybe . . . Don't worry about it."

His hand on Booth's arm, Jared squeezed it. "Seeley, don't blow me off. Are you still having problems with your memory? If you are, you need to let us help you. You shouldn't let Brennan have to shoulder the whole thing by herself. It isn't fair to her."

Shaking Jared's hand off of his arm, Booth stood up and glared at his brother. "Stay the helll out of my business, Jared."

Furious, Jared bolted up and poked Booth in the chest. "It is my business if you can't even remember I'm a cop. What did your doctor say about your memory? Maybe you should see another doctor. The one you have sounds like a fucking quack to me."

Glaring at Jared, Booth walked across the room, entered the bedroom and slammed the door shut. Brennan noticed that Jared was a little stunned and started to speak when Hank raised his hand in the air. "Let me talk to Seeley, Bren."

Grateful that he was willing to try, Brennan nodded her head. "I've tried to talk to him, Hank. His memory is no longer reliable. He seems to know the people he should, but he doesn't know what they do for a living or anything about them. He says it's because he remembers the past differently. He's been asking me questions that he shouldn't have to ask. I'm very worried about Booth, Hank. I'm afraid that he's lost."

Hank walked to the bedroom door, knocked on it and then opened the door. Searching the room, he saw that his grandson was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Whether he wanted him there or not, Hank entered the room and closed the door behind him. Moving over to the bed, Hank sat down on the edge of the bed, next to Booth. "Seeley, you and Jared have always acted like oil and water. Of course, I'm not sure who the oil is and who the water is." Seeing that Booth wasn't going to respond to his little ribbing, Hank continued, "What's wrong, Seeley? Why'd you get so angry at Jared? He's just concerned about you."

Propping himself up on his elbows, Booth looked at Hank. "What if you went to sleep thinking that you were one thing and when you woke up everyone around you said you were something else? Everything you remember about your past is a lie? Everyone you know is really someone else? I don't have any memories of this place, Pops. What do you want me to do? Everyone seems to think that there's some cure out there that I'm just not using to fix this. It can't be fixed, Pops. I don't know who I'm supposed to be. I don't understand this place. This place doesn't make any sense to me. I'm trying to adjust. I know this is my life. I know that . . . I just don't know what to do when everyone gets so upset when I ask the questions I have to ask to understand what is going on."

His hand on Booth's leg, Hank tried to give the younger man some advice. "You've been given a raw deal, Seeley. Somehow your memory has been altered. I can see that. We can all see it . . . Look, you're scaring the hell out of Bren and me. Do you think it helps to get angry and storm around like a kid? You're not a kid, Seeley. You're an adult. You need to calm down and let us figure out what to do to help you. I think if we all put our heads together, we can figure out how to help you get through this mess. Shouting at Jared and denying that you need help is not going to make this situation any better . . . Please, I'm asking you. Let us help you. You need to do that or you're going to end up being put away."

Startled, Booth sat up. "Put away? Dr. Casswell says I'm not insane."

Nodding his head, Hank agreed, but he knew his grandson was in trouble. "You're working yourself into a nervous breakdown. I can see it and Bren must be seeing it too. Let us figure out how to help you. I'm asking you Seeley. I'm not telling you."

Booth considered hsi words and he knew that the old man was probably right. "Sure, Pops."

Patting Booth's leg, Hank smiled. "Stay in here for a little bit. I need to talk to Jared and Bren."

Lowering himself back on to the bed, Booth closed his eyes. "Sure . . . Just call out when you need me."

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