A gentle whisper broke through the cold place he was in.

Soft, angelic, peaceful.

It echoed off the walls of his mind, and melted into the fog that clouded his thoughts. He could feel pain, and a burning sensation through his body. His nerve endings tingled. Flashes of light and flames, fire shocked his system.

His brain was flashing memories on and off, pictures of people, sounds that were unearthly, and explosions. A sharp ringing sound pierced his mind, and pain and flames roared around him. He could see the heat in the air, but couldn't touch it. It was burning, but so cold to the touch.

The whisper in his mind echoed again and again. It was a small voice, a small and innocent voice. Whispers.

Saint Anthony, Saint Anthony, Please come around.

Explosions made him jump. He was whole but not complete, he was awake but still asleep.

A haunting voice chided him, again and again.

Dad-dy. Dad-dy. Dad-dy.

Something is lost and must be found.

Again and again, soft voices whispered in a sing song voice, and the cold seemed to intensify as the explosions were louder. He was being shaken, and loud sirens wailed around him. Screams echoed in his mind and fire burned around him, throwing him aside.

There was a weight on his chest, a weight on his body that he couldn't explain, and couldn't call out for help, for his voice was missing, and he wouldn't know who to call out for in the first place. He could hear Temperance's voice, pleading, begging.

Darkness enveloped the fog, and he felt damp and cold, he could feel sharp fingernails in his chest and feel a small body against him.

Antonia? Toni.

He could hear the shouting of men, hear the small voice against him, calling to him.

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.

Saint Anthony, Saint Anthony, please come around.

Then it all disappeared, darkness.

He felt like he was floating, his mind racing against time, against death. Panic would set in if there was a need for panic, but there was nothing but dark silence.

The darkness was deep and impenetrable. His sleep was restful and inviting.

Something is lost and must be found.

The ambulance doors opened, and Temperance stood immediately. Grace had calmed herself with her thumb planted between her lips, and curled her tiny body into her mother. The SWAT officer stood, blocking her exit.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked. Her voice was stern and angry, wavering in a fearful manner.

"They're not going to let you see him." He said, shifting Seeley in his arms. The boy clung tightly to the stranger, only feeling secure because he had no other choice.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" She asked, trying to push around him.

"Doctor Brennan, they're not going to let you see him. Not with two children, not if he goes to surgery." The officer said calmly, trying not to alarm the already irate wife and mother. "We have to let the doctors do their jobs." He said, watching Temperance glower at him. "You know as well as I do, they're not going to let you past those doors, so the best thing we can do is take care of the children, and have them give us updates on his condition." He said, holding his arm out to stop her.

Temperance wasn't one to be held back, however, and though she knew the officer was correct, it only seemed logical to keep fighting. "I didn't let him back into my life just so that he could die again." She said, pushing through his arm. She turned around as soon as she jumped from the back of the ambulance, still holding her daughter tightly. "I will NOT be sitting at his gravestone any time soon." She growled. She took a step toward the hospital doors, she came to a stop as she noticed the other ambulance bay was busy with activity. She couldn't tell one ambulance from the next, but she knew that Booth's had been right in front of theirs.

"Doctor Brennan, are you okay?" The officer asked, stepping up behind her. Her eyes flashed to him, and he could see that her face was quickly going pale. "It's okay." He whispered. "It'll be okay." He said.

The gurney in the ambulance was then removed from the back of the ambulance, and Brennan watched as the EMTs seemed to slow considerably. She recognized them from the scene, from the chaos that had surrounded them in those panic driven moments just before the ambulance drove off with Booth. She recognized the young EMT that had spoken to her. His eyes lifted to hers, and she could see the immediate sorrow in their depths.

"No." She said, her breath catching in her throat. Her mouth was clasped closed, and her breathing was becoming erratic. Short spurts of air escaped her lungs, but far too quickly to recover. She stumbled forward, still holding Grace tightly to her.

Grace looked up, witnessing what her mother was seeing as the sheet covered body was removed from the back of the ambulance. Her teeth grazed her thumb as her mother let out a yelp of pain. She turned her head and saw the despair in her mother's eyes.

"No! Booth!" She screamed, running toward the ambulance, the man behind her mother, grabbed her around the waist. She jerked forward and almost lost her grip of Grace. "Booth!" She screamed against the bonds of the man holding her back. "Let me go!" She screamed at the officer, shoving an elbow toward his rib, his flak jacket protected him against the assault, and she kicked her foot back. Her heel landed squarely in his shin, causing him to falter. He released his grip of her and sent her nearly tumbling, and she ran across the pavement toward the gurney.

Several EMTs tried to stop her, several tried to stand in her way, but none were successful in blocking her goal of that gurney. She needed to see for herself the person beneath that sheet, to prove to herself that there was still hope.

"Doctor Brennan, I'm sorry." She heard whispered, as her hand clasped the sheet. If Temperance had a moment of clarity, she'd have thought of the effect that pulling that sheet would have on the child in her arms. If she had a moment to think, she'd have handed her off to hands that were not trembling, or someone who could take a deep breath unencumbered by the lump in their throat. Instead, she selfishly ripped the sheet from the head of the victim on the gurney, and gasped when she saw the face of her husband beneath.

The breath that she had saved for relief had suddenly been ripped from her as she stared down at the lifeless body before her. The plane crash had served no such luxury as the proof before her, and unlike that day there was no explosion to punctuate the pain she was feeling at the realization of the truth.

"Daddy?" The girl in her arm whimpered. She wasn't questioning his identity, but reality itself.

And for Temperance, an eerie calm washed over her, as she leaned down to kiss her fallen husband. The only words she could whisper were heard by only she, and the wind.