Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Author's Note: And here is the author's typical apology for the long delay. It's been a busy two weeks, and it will continue to be busy. I am not abandoning this story and the muse is still feeling strong, but unfortunately the muse must take a back seat to real life right now. I'll see what I can do, but likely won't be posting for a week. Again, I'm sorry, but please enjoy this next chapter. I tried to make it longer than my usual post to make up for the long delay. Also, the McVicar conversation should be the next chapter. I hope you are looking forward to it. Enjoy.

Chapter 13: Let The Train Blow The Whistle

May 7, 2006 Greyhound Bus Station

Russ Brennan stood at the mostly deserted bus depot waiting for the go ahead to board his ride home. Booth stood beside him with a dark look on his face.

"Are you sure that you have to go?"

Russ turned to the agent beside him and sighed. "I don't really want to, but maybe it's better if Tempe has some space. I thought we were making progress, but she wouldn't take my calls and my boss isn't exactly happy that I just ran out on him. Maybe, it's better for everyone if I just head back to North Carolina."

Booth shook his head, he knew that Russ couldn't talk sense into his sister. Booth, himself couldn't even try as she wouldn't pick up the phone when he called either. A muffled voice came over the speaker, and the few people in the lobby stood to gather their things. Russ grabbed his own bag that had been dropped on the floor earlier.

"Look, Booth. I appreciate everything that you tried to do for me and my sister, but maybe it just isn't meant to be. I love my sister, and I know that I'll love that little girl if she'll give me a chance, but me being here isn't helping anymore. I told Angela everything I know, about being Kyle about the man that my Dad told me would kill my mother and my sister. I know that I've hurt Tempe and if I stay here, I feel like I'll just be hurting her more."

Booth grunted, "Nothing hurts her more than you leaving. You have to know that."

Russ dropped his bag and sat in one of the recently abandoned chairs. "I know, but..."

Booth sighed and picked up the bag for the man. "Just keep calling her. I'll try and get her to pick up the phone. If you ever need a place to stay in DC, I've got the extra bedroom. Keep in touch." Russ nodded and reached around his pocket for a few moments before pulling out Booth's own rumpled business card. Russ then carefully tucked it into his wallet and Booth nodded his approval, silently giving a concession to the agent. "Take care, Russ."

Russ took his bag out of the agent's hand and made his way onto the bus. He turned once and raised his hand in good-bye. Booth raised his own hand and then turned to make his way back to his car. A heavy weight was crushing his chest. He had, mostly accidentally, eavesdropped on Angela and Russ during their conversation. He understood more about Russ and why had had been less than truthful to the FBI, but still watching the man walk away was a hard thing to take.

Booth sat himself in his SUV and slammed the door with more force than was strictly necessary to get the door closed. He turned on the ignition and found himself driving around the city. The street lights had come on and the landmarks were showing off their glory in the twilight. Booth usually found some sort of comfort passing by the memorials, but he drove by without even seeing them. Booth drove around aimlessly until his gas light came on. Cursing, he pulled into a nearby station and filled the tank. Realizing that driving around the city was a waste of gas and time, and wasn't offering the comfort that it usually afforded; Booth went to Plan B.

Within thirty minutes, Booth had a piping hot order from Wong Foo's. He had promised the owner that this time the food would be eaten and apologized again for the scene from earlier in the day. Sid had just clapped the agent on the shoulder and loaded him with some extra fortune cookies. Booth approached his partner's door and was relieved when she opened it on the first knock. He'd been expecting to have to kick the door open in order to get his partner to speak to him. He didn't have time to ponder her mercurial moods, he simply thrust the box of food into her hands.

Brennan smiled at the offering of food. Truth be told, she was a little bit hungry; she hadn't eaten much dinner. Her smile faded slightly when she realized that her brother was not tagging behind Booth. "Where's Russ?"

"Halfway back to North Carolina." Booth's shoulders slumped as he told his partner the truth, but she just sniffed a bit and put an indifferent expression on her face. Booth could see through the front as her eyes had acquired the lost little girl look that he hated to see. Before he could say anything else, Brennan took the box a food and turned abruptly towards the kitchen.

"If you keep bringing Chinese food in the middle of the night, we're both gonna get fat."

Booth chuckled a bit, but refused to let her change the subject. "I know what you've been thinking."

"I doubt it." Brennan rattled around the kitchen, getting plates and allowing herself some space from Booth, but he simply followed behind her.

"You've been thinking that your family is made up of liars and criminals. And that makes you feel lonely. There's a story here we don't know yet."

Brennan set the plates down on the counter with a little more force than usual. "Like what?"

Booth's voice took on his familiar teasing tone, "Bones, 'don't know' means it's a mystery."

She had no response to that, and just took the supplies back into the living room. The partners settled onto the couch and Booth handed over her favorite dish. She handed him a glass of water and tried once again to change the subject. "What were your parents like?"

Booth took a long sip of water before laughing a bit. He had never gotten around to telling Brennan the stories of his past. He had told her about the pain from his days as a sniper, but he had never wanted to open up about his family. He felt a bit hypocritical that he was the one who kept pushing her to open up, but was unwilling to do so himself. Someday, she would learn the complete truth, but tonight he settled for telling her the Reader's Digest version. "My parents, uh... My dad, he, uh... He drove thuds and phantoms in Vietnam. Those are fighter jets. After that, he was a barber in Philadelphia and my mom, she wrote jingles for a local advertising agency."

Brennan seemed satisfied with the story, and looked at him ruefully. "So they didn't go out at night after you were asleep and rob banks?"

Booth mused that no they didn't rob banks, but his Dad did beat the living daylights out of him and his brother. One day, his Dad had gotten roaring drunk and knocked Booth around so bad that he ended up unconscious and with a concussion. The memories of that day were a bit blurry, but he had awoken to a panicked looking Jared and, inexplicably, his Pops. He had never seen his father again. And he didn't even want to think about his mother. He tried not to bury himself in his own tragedies and set down his plate.

He wasn't hungry for food anymore. Booth now craved the comfort that he and his partner so rarely offered each other. He reached a hand over to his partner and pulled her close. She was startled by the show of affection and barely managed to get her own plate on the coffee table.

"Listen, Bones. You know … Parents, um, they have secret lives. If they didn't, they wouldn't be parents." He had his own secret life from Parker. To Parker, Booth was a hero who served his country every day. Parker didn't know how many lives that Booth had taken, or the guilt that he felt over the lives of friends that he had been unable to save. Still holding his partner close, Booth inhaled her scent, it always served to relax and comfort him. At the soft sigh from Brennan, Booth's senses returned and he let her go, feeling cold at the loss of contact. He quickly stood up and took his plate to the sink.

"It is a little late for Chinese, isn't it? Thanks for the meal. See you tomorrow." Her eyebrow arched at him as he was the one who had brought the food, technically she should be thanking him. She did not have time to comment as the agent hurried out of the apartment, barely remembering to shut it softly in order to not disturb the sleeping girl in a bedroom down the hall. Booth braced himself against the back of Brennan's door for a few minutes. Part of him wanted to barge back in and apologize for leaving her and for being a coward, but he had reached his breaking point. He was exhausted and being haunted by the twin ghosts of his and his partner's past.

Taking a deep breath, Booth forced himself away from the door and made his way down the hallway. He took the stairs down to the lobby, too jumpy to stand still in a claustrophobic elevator. Then he slowly made it back to his apartment. As soon as he reached home he flopped onto his bed without even removing his jacket or his shoes. He drifted off to a fitful sleep. He was jolted awake when his cell phone rang loudly several hours later.

Groaning, Booth answered it. An irate Angela was on the other end. Booth pulled the phone away from his ear and waited for the lecture to stop. "Sorry, Angela. What was that?"

Angela huffed in exasperation. "Do you know what time it is? And do you know what your partner just did?"

Booth groaned, "No and no."

"It's 3:30 in the morning and Bren just showed up in the lab dragging Lucy behind her. On a school night, Booth. Lucy is currently sleeping in my office and Bren is up on the platform conversing with Zack about her mother's skull. You better get your cute butt back to the lab before I am forced to kick it into the Potomac."

Booth had no doubts that the fiery artist wouldn't make good on that promise and rubbed his eyes. "Just let me change my clothes, I'll be right in. Hold on, what are you and Zack still doing at the lab?"

"Hodgins is here too. None of us are leaving until we figure out what happened to Bren's mom. I caught a short nap earlier, but I'm still trying to clean up the sketch from Russ' description. It's been twenty-five years since he saw the guy. Something's not quite right with it, but I'll get it there."

Booth had gotten off of his bed and moved toward the bathroom, wanting to get a little cleaned up before he went back to the Jeffersonian. "Thanks for the call, Angela. I'll be right in."

Booth was halfway to the lab when his phone rang again. This time it was Charlie on the line. The man was yawning and the rustling of papers came over the line as well. Booth felt a rush of gratitude for the agents and squints who had given so much of themselves to help with the case.

"Booth, I've got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"It's four in the morning, Charlie. Spit it out, I'm not in the mood for games."

"We got a hit on the blood from Dr. Brennan's parents' car. The problem is it's a closed file." Booth swore and his SUV swerved on the road. He clicked his phone shut and threw it on the floor of his car in frustration. He took two calming breaths and continued on the way to the Jeffersonian.

With Angela's stern lecture, he expected her to be pacing the lab just waiting to lay into him. Instead the lab was ghostly quiet. Zack was on the platform, his back to the agent and squinting at a screen. Booth heard a single snore, and realized that Hodgins was catching his own nap on the couch in the lounge upstairs. He resisted the urge to check on Lucy in Angela's office and went directly to his partner.

The door to her office opened silently, and he wasn't prepared to find her sleeping on her couch. He figured that she'd be typing away, or analyzing something. He knew why she was here. She couldn't sleep in her own bed; her own thoughts raced too fast to allow her to relax enough for sleep. But here in her lab, she could focus and compartmentalize. This was her house of reason, and it afforded her the peace of mind that she couldn't allow herself at home.

Booth stepped closer to the sleeping scientist. He had watched her sleep before, but he was still amazed at how beautiful she was when she was sleeping. Well, she was always beautiful, but it was different when she was asleep. Taking a life of its own, his hand reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair back behind her ears. He inwardly cursed himself for becoming a walking cliche, but his hand stayed near her cheek, not quite touching her, but still feeling the warmth from her cheek. Suddenly, her hand was on his, and she mumbled sleepily. "I'm awake."

Booth nodded sarcastically, "Yeah, I could see that. Bones, what are you doing here at the lab?"

Brennan sat up a little straighter and glanced at the clock on the wall. "I could ask you the same thing."

So she clearly wasn't going to acknowledge getting a ten year old girl out of bed at three in the morning and dragging her into the lab. And she clearly wasn't going to talk about why she couldn't sleep in her own bed. He would just have to roll with it. He took a seat beside her on the couch, their hands still lightly entwined. Subconsciously, he rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand.

"We caught a break on the DNA in the car."

Her hand squeezed just a bit tighter. "You know who is it?"

His thumb pressed another soothing circle on her hand, and Booth continued speaking. "Not exactly. See it's a closed file. Whoever it is, is in Witness Protection. I'll make a request, but they're pretty tight over there."

Booth could have swore that Brennan was about to follow up his comment with one of her patented, "I don't know what that means." Instead, the next words belonged to Angela.

"What if you had a face?"

Brennan and Booth both turned to the artist. Brennan squinted at the pencil drawing. "Who's that?"

Angela took a step closer to the partners. Ever observant she noticed that Booth was still holding Brennan's hand, but she let it slide. "Somebody your father pointed out to Russ when he was seven. Somebody he's still afraid of."

Brennan's hand pulled away from Booth. Her voice was sad as she told Angela, "Russ went home."

"I'm sorry, Sweetie. I know that you miss him. He'll be back. Isn't that right, Booth?"

Booth stood from the couch and took the sketch from Angela. He forced himself to adopt a cheery tone, hoping against hope that Russ wouldn't disappear again. "Sure he will, Bones. He's got my card, your number. He just had to get back to work. No worries."

Angela nodded approvingly and Brennan's head also bobbed in agreement, even if she didn't believe a word coming out of either of their mouths. Once again feeling awkward and a bit useless he took another glance at the sketch in his hands. "Hey, know what? I'm gonna play hardball with Witness Protection. If they don't cooperate, I'm gonna put his face in the paper."

From the couch, Brennan smiled. "Wouldn't you get in trouble for that?"

Booth just shrugged. "Well, we'll find out." He walked out of the door.

Now that Booth was gone and her work was done, Angela could afford to needle her friend. "You know what? Sometimes, he is just... Whew." Brennan looked down at the hand that Booth had so tenderly held just a few moments before and then looked up at her best female friend and gave her a puzzling smile. Angela's jaw almost dropped. "What?"

"Excuse me, Angela. I think I am going to try and rest a bit more rest." Angela just nodded and backed her way out the office. Maybe, just maybe, Brennan wasn't as clueless as Angela made her out to be.