Disclaimer, I don't own High School Musical or any of the characters associated with it.

Author's Notes: this will be a cross with Bones. It's not a traditional bone's story, but it's not posted for bones. So I don't care. Enjoy.

Author Note 2. I suffer from dyslexia and lack a beta reader. So if my spelling/ grammar really offend anyone would they like to volunteer?

Author's Note 3: Massive congratulations to anyone who writes Angst on a regular bias. This chapter especially nearly killed me. So enjoy.

Chapter 10

The letters lay on the grey surface of the FBI table, like six unexploded bombs. Their six owners stood regarding them.

"You can read them." The agent, not the one who had brought them news of their mother's death, this one was a stranger said.

"We're dusted for prints."

Jack Bolton nodded, and forced himself to walk over to the table and pick up the letter address to him.

My dearest Jack,

What can I say? I hate you? I love? They're both true and yet both lies.

I want to stop loving you. I've try to stop loving you. But I can't!

You're a part of me, just like I'm a part of you. Nothing either can do will change that!

But I can't forgive you. I can't forgive you giving up. On our marriage. On our children. On me. No I lie the last one is probably the only thing I can forgive you for.

I gave Deanna your number. I just hope she's got more courage than either of us. Enough to call you. I can't, I won't' leave my babies to the system.



When I first I thought you'd be the one who'd stop the pain and heal me. I know better now. Love can't heal pain, it causes too much. So it is to another I must turn for healing.

This is goodbye, Jack.

I'll love you till the end of time.

Elizabeth.

He thought for a moment, remembering the dark haired girl almost pouring coffee over him in that diner in New York, a life time ago. Then he couldn't help it. For the first time since he'd heard the news he had to fight to stop the tears. Not for Elizabeth Holmes Bolton, but for the girl in that diner. So young, but already knowing so much.

Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Deanna fought the lump in her thought, as she opened the envelope. In an instant her mother's scent overwhelmed her, and it was a few minutes before she could focus on what was actually written

Deanna,

My little girl, my rock and my tower of strength.

You know I thought I had this all figured out in my head on the way here, but now I'm here I don't know what to write.

I'm sorry. Sorry I wasn't a better mother. Sorry you had to take my role. Sorry you never had a childhood. But most of all I'm sorry for last night. I never understood why my father hit me or my sister. I thought it must be because we're bad.



But you're not bad. You're a stronger, purer, kinder better, person than either your father or me. You're been there for all of us through thick and thin.

I know must people would say that I should tell you to look after your brothers, but I know that's a waste of ink. Because you've always looked after them, and protected them from anyone who wanted to harm them. Including me.

Several large stains littered the paper and the gap between the paragraphs was bigger than it should have been

I have to write this quickly, or I'll cry and ruin it.

Don't let what happened to me destroy you! It was never that powerful! Take your life and live it, either with Dave or with someone else.

My only regret is that I won't be around to see it. Because I know you'll do an incredible job.

Take care my lady Madonna. Never lose the music in your head. Because when you hear it I'll be there.

I love you, baby girl

Deana leant into Dave, her tears overflowing. She couldn't, she wouldn't remembered the last time she'd seen her mother. Instead she remembered the last time she'd seen her sober.

"He's asleep." Betty's voice was heavy with relief as she sat down next to Deana. The books spread across the bed, and Deanna focused on them, unsure of how to handle this.

"He's just worried."

"About me."

Deanna opened her mother to deny it, but she saw the pointlessness of it.



"I-" Betty began, but Deanna interrupted her.

"Don't. Don't make a promise we both know you can't keep."

Betty nodded.

"Deanna." She said slowly "I want you to make me a promise."
Deanna lifted her head. This was serious. Her mother's tone told her that.

"I want you to promise me, that if anything happens to me," she held up her hand to silence her daughter's protests, "that if anything happens to me, that you'll call this number."

She handed over a dog-eared, creased scrap of paper, with digits written on it and a name. The last person she wanted to speak to.

"Mum-"

"Just promise."

"I promise." Deanna said, folding up the paper again, "but I'm not going to need it." She leant into a hug with Betsey as she now did with Dave.

No one had been more surprised than Dave to discover that there was a letter for him. He now held it, with one hand, the other holding Deana's' sobbing form against his chest.

Dear Dave.

Don't blame yourself. I known for a while that this was the only way it could end.

My grandmother's engagement ring, it's the one with the emerald on it. I want you to have.

I know you told me, that you and Deanna aren't in that place yet, but maybe by the time you get this you will be. And if you never reach that place. Hold it for her. I know I trust you to look after her.

Which we both know she needs.



He gazed at the girl in his arms then at the ring in his pocket. He knew what he wanted to do. His mind drifted to the last time he'd seen Betty. He could still see her, standing beneath the tree, trying to force the ring into his hands and his refusal to take it. Too scared to be tied down.

He hoped she'd know that what she had done had been what brought him to that place. Because, he thought as he breathed in Deanna's scent and felt her heart been in rhythm with his, I can't lose you.

The ball hit the hoop again. Troy fought to stop himself from swearing. He was grateful that the FBI Building had a basketball court. He knew it look insensitive, but he had to get out of there. He couldn't ever remember seeing Deanna crying like that. Or having seen that look on his father's face. He caught the ball on the rebound and sat on top of it. There was no delaying the moment. He opened the letter.

Dear Troy.

So how many did you miss?

That's right. I know what you'll have done. You'll have take this, and run to the nearest court. Then you'll shot five, maybe ten hoops, and miss before you'll sit down on the ball and read this.

You're your father's son, no matter what I've tried to do.

That's not a bad thing, sweet heart. No matter what you may think I love your father. And I love you.

There's one thing I will say though. You're much braver than he ever was. You fight for what you want.

That's said; don't let your father take the music from you. He thinks it's responsible for me. He doesn't understand that if it wasn't for the music, I'd have never made it this far.



So Dance or Play or both. Whatever you do. Never stop fighting for what you want. I'll be watching you to make sure.

Goodbye

The tears fell salty on to his cheeks and he was surprised to feel an arm slip around him. Looking up he saw Gabriella kneeling next to him, her arms holding him.

"Lucille called me." She said in explanation. He couldn't stop the tears, even if he wanted to. Instead he leant into her, understanding for the first time what Deanna meant about feeling safe and scared in the same breath.

"The last thing I remember," he muttered into Gabriella chest, "before she changed. She's in the kitchen and she's sing memory. From Cats. And she's crying, but I don't know why."

Gabriella held him closer. She had no words and there were none to say.

Jake locked the cubicle door, and opened the envelope. He knew he'd hurt Deana if she knew he'd done this, but he wanted to be alone with mum. He opened the envelope. A photo fell out and he picked it up. It was a copy of The Blessed Damozel' he remembered the richness of the colours and the way his mother had gazed at her.

"But what did he feel?" she muttered. Was that how she saw herself? Earthbound and pining for her lover who died young? He began to read.

My dear Jake.

Out of all my children you're the one most like me. You explode rather than simmer, you never do anything by half and you're artist.

That said, I'd love to be able to paint like you do. I love looking at all your painting of the myths of Arthur that Deanna told you.



Yet when I look for myself, I don't see me in the dragons, the monsters, or the evil knights. I see myself as a princess chained to a rock, or as the lady of shallot imprisoned in a tower. The monsters are all greens, claret, scarlet, red, brown and white. Is that how you see me little one? Trapped by a dragon of my addiction and needing rescuing?

You should listen to the medieval stories better. The damsel is usually perfectly capable of rescuing herself.

On second thoughts maybe you understand the stories better than I do.

I' sorry little one.

Promise me this. You'll keep painting. Just paint one more picture for me. Breaking free of a monster's control.

I love you Jakey. Keep an eye on your brother and sister O.K.? They bottle too much up.

It took all of Sam's self-control to stop himself from fidgeting. He couldn't read the letter, as it wasn't written in Braille, so he had to wait for Deanna to regain her self-control.

"o.k. Sammy." she said, tears still obvious in her voice. "Let's see what mum had to say to you shall we?"

Dear Sammy.

Do not forget to thank Deanna for reading this to you. She'll be upset enough without having to go though it again.

Do you remember how scared you were when you first started to lose your sight? You asked me how you'd find us. I took your fingers and ran them along my bracelet. Told you that if you ever needed to find me, to just feels for the bracelet. And that I'd help you find your way.

The bracelet is yours now Sammy. And you must find your own way.



I love you my baby

He held the letter in his fingers for a moment before saying softly,

"We need to get to the lake."
Deanna nodded.

"And quickly."