A/N: Season 7 hiatus

Booth was into the fifth mile of his run that was doing nothing to calm his panic. It had been a month since Bones had taken off with Christine. A month. He was beginning to lose his mind. The first week he'd been numb. The second he'd rallied and he and the squint squad had been focused on the evidence, trying to decode the clues to clear Bones' name. They'd been so sure that they'd find a solution quickly and bring them home. But the second week had given way to the third and then the fourth and they'd had no significant breakthroughs. Scratch that, no breakthroughs, significant or otherwise.

And it wasn't looking good in the near future. Cam could no longer put off the Jeffersonian board or the FBI. The squints were slowly being pulled in other directions, working other cases. Clearing Bones' name had been pushed to the back burner at the lab. In the Hoover he spent his days doing whatever shit task Flynn assigned even though he desperately wanted to tell him where he could shove the reports. Every time he came close to losing his cool he could hear Bones telling him that she and Christine needed him to stay strong and keep his job at the FBI - they needed his help to come home. But he couldn't see a way to get there. When he allowed himself to look into the future it took more work to paint a rosy picture. It was an effort to imagine Christine learning to crawl in the living room, her first Halloween costume, gurgling in delight at a Christmas tree in the corner.

If the days were hard the nights were harder. So far he managed by working late, exercising to the point of exhaustion, and then collapsing in Parker's room, after grabbing takeout from Sid or wolfing down a sandwich. He couldn't face their bed alone. He only went into the master suite to soak in the tub, the physical relief barely compensating for the mental pain he felt each time he walked into their bedroom. The weekends were the worst, with no real caseload he didn't have a need to go into the office. When he did, the pitying looks from his colleagues were almost too much to bear. If Flynn was in then it was intolerable. He'd busied himself with Christine's treehouse and the list of things that hadn't quite gotten done at the house before they'd moved in but both were now complete. Tomorrow was Father's Day, and Booth's current plan was to spend the rest of the day watching sports and drinking himself into a stupor in the hopes that if he was busy battling a hangover he could distract himself from the fact that neither of his children would be with him.

He knew he should think of a better plan, this was Pops first Father's Day that his son was gone, not that Edwin had been around any in the last thirty years. But still, knowing that you'd survived both your children had to make a day set aside for fatherhood bitter. Booth felt guilty that he couldn't, or wouldn't be there for Pops, but he was pretty sure that the only thing more pathetic than one sad father would be two. Rebecca had offered to send Parker over, but he felt it was safer for his son to be on a separate continent until after Pelant was nailed. He kept telling himself that Christine was fine, Max and Bones were keeping her safe. He should be more optimistic, but really he was just damned tired of pretending. Pretending that he was okay, that he didn't want to scream until his voice gave out, or throw his chair through the glass of his, no make that Flynn's office, or pummel Pelant into oblivion - he'd decided weeks ago that a bullet between the eyes while satisfying was too quick for the bastard. So he had decided to just stop for the weekend, he was going to wallow in self pity and go back to pretending on Monday.

He wasn't sure why he had gotten up and driven to the park to run. The park next to Bones' old place, where she'd run often and he would "accidentally" run into her occasionally. He guessed if he was planning on numbing the pain, he had to torture himself first, a sort of pre-penance for his sins. He sighed, adding to his list of his sins was that he hadn't been to mass since Christine's baptism. He had thought about it, even made it to the parking lot once, but every time he thought about walking into the church, he flashed to the last time he'd walked out of it. And then he'd get pissed at God all over again.

The anger fueled his pace, he picked it up ignoring the twinge in his ankle. He kept up till his lungs were burning and he couldn't push one more step. He started his cool down, heading back to the car via the coffee stand. After making his purchase he was adding sugar when he heard a voice calling, "Agent Booth!" He winced, recognizing the voice, Avalon Harmonia. It was official. The universe hated him. He turned toward her hoping that he would get off with a wave and a quick good bye.

The hope was quickly dashed as she headed over and grasped his hand in both of hers, "I KNEW I'd find you here."

Considering he hadn't expected to be here he doubted it, but knew better than to comment, lest he get a lecture on planetary signs and whose house was in retrograde. Not that she needed him to respond, as she started tugging him towards the table she'd been sitting at an motioning for him to take a seat. Belatedly Booth wondered why he was allowing her to drag him over for a conversation he didn't want to have. The truth was, he realized, that there was something oddly calming about her touch. He thought about protesting but decided it wouldn't do any good, besides, it wasn't as though his plans were urgent. He still had to stop and buy the beer, and it would be a couple of hours before there was anything but soccer on. Avalon still hadn't let go of his hand, "I'm sorry to bother you like this Agent Booth, but the Ruths have been insisting that I talk to you, they are afraid you're losing hope. " Avalon said apologetically.

"The Ruths?" He was puzzled.

"Yes, it's a little fuzzy because they are very faint, like they've been gone a while. But they are fiercely protective of you and Temperance. One connected with each of you, " she said it matter of factually, like it made perfect sense.

He was still confused, the only Ruth he had ever known was, no she had to be kidding, "You mean my Aunt Ruth? "

"I don't know many details. I just know there was something about baseball and you were a young boy when she left. About your son's age. The other Ruth is Dr. Brennan's mother I think."

Now he was angry, how dare she? Like he didn't have enough to deal with without some phony psychic trying to manipulate him? Before he could speak, she laid her hands on the fist that he had made, "I know you don't believe in my gift, but, you also know I've been right before." It was said gently but firmly. Again, the calmness swept over him.

Still not ready to let go of his cynicism, he pulled his hand back and half snarled, "Look Ms. Harmonia, I don't know what game you are trying to play here, but I am REALLY NOT IN THE MOOD." The last words were enunciated clearly and distinctly through a mostly clenched jaw.

She looked at him sadly, feeling his pain, "It's not a game, Agent Booth. I wouldn't do that. And I don't have all the answers you're looking for, but I have some."

He looked at her, wanting to believe, knowing he shouldn't. Heart vs. brain. Well, the brain wasn't here to argue so what the hell? Finally he nodded and sighed, "Okay, what have you got?"

"I can't give you an exact day when they return, but, you won't miss her first steps, her first Christmas. It was just a nightmare."

Booth was shocked. He'd woken up in a cold sweat, dreaming that he'd been approached by a strange teenage girl with Bones' blue eyes calling him Daddy. He wondered how she knew, but he could hear Bones' voice, "given the situation, it's fairly obvious to deduce what your biggest fear would be Booth". He sipped his coffee, "I wish I could believe that."

"Are you doubting me Agent Booth?" If he hadn't been so annoyed at the world he might have smiled at the indignation on her face.

"Look, Ms. Harmonia,"

"Avalon", she interrupted.

"Avalon, " he continued, "I don't want to insult you. It's just that as much as I want to believe what you just told me, so far, I've got no concrete reason to think I'm ever going to see them again." He turned his head away, ashamed to hear the break in his voice.

She waited patiently until he looked back, "You need evidence?"

"Yeah."

"How did I know you'd be here?"

He shrugged, "Coincidence. I know you don't live too far away, for all I know you called Angela this morning and she did one of her tracking thingies."

"Agent Booth, I haven't talked to Angela in a couple of weeks. And I moved a few months after you found my sister. It took me 20 minutes to drive here. " She handed him her phone, "Look at my call log for today." It was blank. As she watched him process that info she added, "Even if you could explain my presence here, this isn't where you normally run on Saturdays is it?" He didn't respond so she added forcefully, "IS IT?"

He shook his head.

"So why ARE you here?" He shrugged, he didn't really know why he'd gotten in the car this morning instead of doing his normal run around the neighborhood. He was spared answering by Avalon pulling out her Tarot deck, "Pick a card."

"Avalon, " he started to protest.

"The cards don't lie, " she wagged a finger at him, "unlike you. "

"What?"

"I believe you've been lying a lot lately, Agent Booth, in regards to your weekend plans."

He'd had invites from Cam, Angela and Hodgins, Sweets and Caroline for various activities tomorrow and he'd declined them all. To avoid their looks of pity and concern by telling them he was going to spend the day with Pops. He'd told Pops he had case work, he still hadn't given Pops the full story on his fall from grace at the Hoover, not wanting to worry his grandfather any more than necessary. How did she know? Reluctantly he pulled a card and handed it to her.

She smiled, "I told you. The Chariot."

Like he knew what that meant. Seeing his confusion she explained, "It represents overcoming obstacles. "

"Great," he said bitterly, and took a gulp of coffee, "don't 'spose the cards will tell me how to do that."

She laid her hand on his forearm, "Well, yes they do. Through determination, focus and willpower of course. And might I add, a little faith wouldn't hurt. " She patted his arm, "Go see your grandfather this weekend, he'll help you. You'll help each other."

He looked at her, feeling her calm confidence that this would all work out. He nodded.

She smiled at him, "Good. My work here is done." She rose and placed a hand on his shoulder as she walked past him, "And Agent Booth?" she waited till he turned to her, "Eventually, I'm going to sing at your and Dr. Brennan's wedding."

He shook his head at her, but he had a small smile. Then he pulled out his phone and called Pops, letting him know about the change in plans.