A/N: I really liked this chapter, it was interesting to write, so I do hope it's interesting to read.

I just hope you know that just because Hannah is gone, doesn't mean it's instantly going to be a happy ever after, because let's face it, it doesn't happen that way =) I DO promise that you will get one though… soon!

SIX MONTHS LATER

Her hand trembled as she reached for the phone. Every day she was confronted with the same struggle, the same demons trying so desperately to claw their way out. This wasn't the furthest she'd reached before retraction, sometimes she even managed to punch in all the digits before hanging up.

The days following his absence had been more than difficult. There were times within that period where she honestly believed she was dying. But science couldn't explain it; there was no physical bone evidence to explain her emotions, only an agonizing, gut-wrenching feeling that came in the form of a twisted stomach. Brennan found it hard to keep her food down most of the time. She had lost more weight than was healthy, leaving her thin and frail.

Everyday Angela urged her to make the call, worried about her friend's decreasing body image, and the way the light had gone out from her eyes. It reminded Angela too much of the months following Hannah's arrival.

But Brennan's attempt was done in vain. She couldn't bring herself to hear his voice, and the ache in her chest seemed to increase with every passing day.

This time, Brennan was determined to push through. This time she wouldn't hang up. With unsteady fingers, she punched in the number to Booth's cell phone. As she heard the ringing, she had to fight herself not to hang up. On the third ring, she heard the click of the phone and a background noise, before a gruff voice answered.

"What?"

Brennan's chest tightened at the sound of his voice. "Booth?"

There was a long pause.

"How are you doin, Booth?" she pressed, eager to keep the conversation going.

"I'm okay," he answered vaguely.

Brennan contemplated her next sentence. How did she tell him how much she missed him, when she didn't understand the emotions herself? And how did she talk to him knowing the extent of alcohol in his blood stream, clearly he was in no mental state to talk to her. But she was on the phone now, and who knew when she'd get another chance. She wasn't going to let the opportunity slip through her fingers.

Instead, she broached the subject of something that had been weighing on her mind. "Do you think you might come back to work?"

Booth didn't answer right away. "I don't think so, Bones…" Brennan closed her eyes at the mention of the name only he called her. It had been too long since she'd heard it.

Knowing his reasons, and knowing him, Brennan pressed on a sore subject. "Booth, you don't need to keep punishing yourself…" she told him.

His response was instant and both angry and bitter. "You don't know," he snapped. "You don't understand-"

"I think I have a fair idea," she protested. Brennan had been going through a lot too, since his resignation from the FBI. He had been out of work for six months. He had thrown in the towel only the day after the horror scene at the log cabin. For six months she had been out of field work, remaining only in the Jeffersonian, on the examination of bones. She couldn't believe how much she missed working with Booth in the field, cracking a case just didn't hold the same accomplishment anymore. Nothing felt right without him.

It was empty.

"Bones-"

"Booth, it hasn't been easy for me to-" she wanted him to understand that she understood his pain on some level, losing someone you loved wasn't easy, she knew that more than anyone. But her words fell on deaf ears, as he interrupted her.

"Well, it's been a walk in the park for me…" his voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I-I didn't mean to suggest that- maybe I should go…" she hadn't meant to upset him, and clearly he was in no state to talk to her, but she worried about him, fearful for his health. Things were only getting worse for him.

"Maybe you should…" he suggested.

Brennan was surprised at how estranged his voice was. "Booth, I-"

She heard the click of the dial tone, and then nothing. He'd hung up.

Booth sat in his chair by the window, staring blankly out into the streets, as he nursed his scotch. Since his shooting incident, he had taken to the bottle quite strongly. He took another swig as he realized how he'd just reacted to Brennan, the woman he had thought about everyday for the last seven years; the past six months had been no exception.

Hope that was worth a read… thoughts and opinions are welcome =)