A/N: Here is the next chapter, a little later than planned but it's been one of those weeks! There is more hope in this chapter than we've had so far and we are getting close to the end now so this is the beginning of the resolution to this story.

Thank you for your reviews and a quick thanks to BBGWTWLUV1 for pointing out to me the name of Booth's condition. I have made some alterations to this chapter to reflect this. I have concentrated on Booth's feelings rather than psychology so I hope I have managed to make it accurate and plausible. As before though, there is a quantity of creative license being used. I will hopefully post the next chapter on Sunday.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones

When Booth woke up the next morning, the bed and bedroom were empty, and Temperance was gone. His head hurt and his legs ached. All the walking he did yesterday was the most physical activity he had done in weeks and he was paying for it now.

He swung his legs out of bed and slowly made his way to the bathroom. After he had showered and dressed, he heard a phone beep. He looked around for the phone and couldn't immediately see it. He searched for the jeans he had worn yesterday only to find them in the laundry hamper. He fished them out and felt around in the pockets. Temperance's phone was gone. She must have retrieved her phone from the pocket. He heard the phone beep again and he realised it was next to the bed on the nightstand. Temperance must have put it there for him. He looked at the message on the phone. It was Tempe letting him know she had been called into the Jeffersonian for a couple of hours and that Christine was with Max. She also reminded him he had a session with Sweets later this morning.

He smiled to himself when he read her message. It was more obvious to him now, especially after last night, that she does care about him and that he hadn't truly appreciated what she has done for him.

He headed downstairs to get some breakfast and after he had made and eaten his pancakes, he realised he had a bit of time to kill before he needed to leave for his appointment with Sweets. He wandered over to the bookshelf again, intending to pick another one of Temperance's novels to read but instead he spotted a large book that he hadn't noticed before. At first, when he pulled it off the shelf, he thought it was a photo album. But when he lifted the front cover, he realised it was a scrap book. He opened it up to find that every page was filled with newspaper clippings that had been neatly stuck in place. Some didn't have pictures, but the ones that did featured both him and Temperance, and one or two even featured the rest of her team. As he read through them, he realised it read like a history of their partnership. He found himself wishing he had found this scrapbook earlier. It helped him learn so much about her and about them. He thought he vaguely remembered a few of the cases but the memories were hazy and indistinct.

Sighing with frustration at not being able to remember more, he pushed the book back onto the shelf only to notice a similar book next to it. He pulled it off the shelf, wondering what was inside this one. He flipped it open to find this one was a photo album. But not just any photo album, it was filled with photos of their wedding. Booth gasped in surprise as he looked at the pictures. They both looked so happy and Temperance looked so beautiful it took his breath away. He found one of the invitations artfully stuck onto one of the pages and saw the date. He had figured they'd been married for a few years but the date on this invitation was only a few months ago. He swallowed thickly when he realised he'd gotten it so wrong. Nobody who looked this happy only a few short months ago could have the sort of unhappy marriage he'd been assuming they had.

He needed to see Temperance, he had to talk to her before it was too late. He'd always dreamed of getting married and having kids. Despite his parents' troubled marriage, he had seen how happy his grandparents had been together and they had been married for over 40 years. Booth wanted that for himself and he wasn't just about to throw away his opportunity to have all that.

He automatically began to search for his car keys only to remember he wasn't allowed to drive yet, and he needed to call a cab. He needed to ask Sweets when he could drive again, he missed his independence and he was certain he was competent enough to drive. His priority was to talk to Sweets about Temperance, but he also wanted to ask Sweets when he could go back to work, even if it was just a desk role for now. Sitting around at home all day was driving him nuts. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called a cab. He took one more look at the pictures in the wedding album before flipping it shut and putting it back on the shelf. Yesterday had opened his eyes and now, seeing these pictures, he realised he'd made a horrible mistake. He was beginning to trust his gut instincts again and they were telling him that the Temperance who he had spent the past few weeks with wasn't who she really was. He knew he was responsible, and he needed to rectify the situation. Starting now.

0-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-0

Booth walked into the Hoover with an energy and determination that he hadn't felt since he had woken from his coma. He felt like until now, he had been drifting aimlessly through what he could remember of his life. Now though, he had a mission, something to focus on and aim for. He didn't care what he had to do to accomplish it. All he knew was he had lost a lot of time and he needed to do something so that he could ease the obvious pain that his wife was in.

He knocked on the door to Sweets' office and walked in without being invited. Sweets looked up in surprise. Despite what Dr Brennan thought, Agent Booth hadn't changed that much since his head injury. Sweets knew that Booth still hated his sessions with him as much as he had before. This consequently meant that Booth was inevitably always a little late for his sessions, which made it all the more surprising to Sweets when Booth burst through his door a whole 20 minutes early for his session.

"Booth! You're early!"

Instead of sitting on the couch, Booth started pacing back and forth behind it. "You've gotta help me Sweets."

Sweets briefly considered how despite some of their obvious differences, Booth and Brennan were similar in many ways. Including how they both have a tendency to barge into his office, uninvited. He could see something was troubling Booth, he was pacing like a caged lion. "Sure." He said while moving to sit in the chair opposite the couch. "Sit down, Booth."

Booth threw a withering stare in Sweets direction. Sweets cringed back into his chair a little as he considered how he had not missed receiving that look from the intimidating FBI agent he now considered his closest friend. "Or not." He muttered under his breath.

Continuing to pace, Booth said, "You've gotta tell me about Dr Brennan, Sweets. She's sad. She's SO sad and I know it's my fault."

Sweets immediately felt uneasy. When he had seen Dr Brennan yesterday, he could see she wasn't herself and yes, she was sad, but as bad as Booth was describing now? Selfishly, he worried that something he had suggested she do yesterday had backfired. Sweets had been thinking a lot about how he had approached treating Booth for his amnesia. If he were being honest with himself, he had to admit that he hadn't approached Booth's sessions the way he would with any other patient and he wondered if he had allowed his feelings of affection for Booth and Dr Brennan to cloud his judgement.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and cleared his throat. "What exactly do you want to know about her that you can't ask her yourself, Booth?"

"She's not herself, I know that now. Her behaviour is odd. But how can I ask her about that, huh? Without making the situation worse?"

Sweets sighed. The lack of communication between them was a much bigger issue than he had thought. Rubbing his fingers across his brow, he contemplated how best to handle this situation. He knew he should have had a session with the both of them. He thought because he knew them both so well and, judging from their history of overcoming obstacles put in front of them, that they would naturally overcome this obstacle without the need for intervention. It was clearly a bad decision as within the last 24 hours they had both come to him asking for help that they both in the past had professed to not wanting or, in the case of Dr Brennan, didn't believe in.

"It's great that you feel like you know her a little better Booth, but can I ask what has happened that has made you think that Dr Brennan isn't herself?"

Booth stopped pacing and looked down at the floor. He felt ashamed of his behaviour at the diner yesterday. He didn't really want to tell Sweets everything that had happened, but he figured he probably should tell him. He was beginning to understand that keeping things to himself wasn't helping his situation. "I er, I went out to the diner without telling her. When she found me there, I was talking to Agent McColl and Temperance thought I was flirting with her. I wasn't flirting! I wasn't! I'd bumped into Stacey at the diner and we just got talking. It was nice! It felt normal. But I can see why Temperance thought I was flirting."

Sweets nodded his head and said "Mm-hm. Go on."

"We got into an argument in the street. She was mad that I'd left the house without telling her and about the flirting. She said she'd been worried about me and I kinda lost it. I said things I shouldn't have."

"Like what?"

Booth sat down on the couch as he cringed inwardly at what he'd said to his wife. "I told her she doesn't act like she's worried, that it seems that she doesn't give a damn about me at all. I was wrong though, wasn't I?"

Sweets merely nodded his head and raised an eyebrow to indicate to Booth he should continue.

"She said she loves me, then she asked me if I love her and I didn't answer. I saw the pain in her face and I just walked away! I told her I needed a walk and I walked away! It hurt to do that, and I don't know why." Booth shook his head before continuing. "When I got home, I found her curled up in bed crying. She was sobbing so hard. I've never seen anyone cry like that before." The memory of seeing Temperance in so much pain was agonising. "I thought I'd figured her out, figured us out. I'd assumed we weren't happy together, but I was wrong, and I should've seen it! I should have known!" Booth rubbed his hands over his face. He felt so much regret for the pain he had caused his wife.

Sweets steepled his fingers and pressed them to his lips as he listened to Booth. From what he had just told him, Sweets felt hopeful that Booth was finally beginning to realise what Dr Brennan had meant to him before his amnesia.

"Dr Brennan does love you, Booth. A great deal, in fact. It might not have seemed that way to you, because she is highly adept at supressing her emotions and allowing herself to be led only by logic and rationality. When I first met her, you had already begun to break down her 'walls' if you will and in the years since, she has undoubtedly become a more open person, allowing herself to show and feel her emotions. Except, in times of great emotional distress."

Booth caught on to what he thought Sweets was saying. "Times of emotional distress. Like her husband suffering a head injury and not being able to remember her."

"Yes. Exactly."

"Oh my god." Booth whispered. He felt an overwhelming feeling of remorse. He had completely misread her. He had always been so good at reading people, but he had got her completely wrong. There was a small part of him that was worried about what this meant for his job as an FBI agent, but he couldn't concentrate on that right now. She was most important.

Sweets watched the play of emotions on Booth's face, and the tears that had formed in his eyes.

"Has anything else changed since we last spoke, Booth? For example, have you recalled any memories of Dr Brennan?"

Booth shook his head sadly. "Nothing distinct." He felt even worse now than before he had come in to see Sweets. He felt agitated like he needed to be in action. This clearly wasn't helping and maybe talking to Temperance, properly talking to her, would help. He rose from the couch and resumed pacing behind it.

Sweets shifted forward in his seat. "I was thinking that maybe it's time to try a different treatment method. Maybe some hypnotherapy? It isn't always successful, but it might help."

Booth was no longer in the mood for listening to Sweets' psychobabble. He wanted to get out of here to go and find Temperance. "Why would that help? Nothing has so far!" He scrubbed his hands through his hair before asking, exasperated- "Why can't I remember her, Sweets?"

Sweets' initial diagnosis of Booth had been, due to his head injury, one of Post Traumatic Amnesia. He believed now though that he had been wrong and had made a misdiagnosis. "Booth, I believe the amnesia you are suffering from is a type called Dissociative Amnesia. It is usually triggered by overwhelming stress or traumatic events such as war or witnessing a disaster."

Booth was confused. To him, Sweets' theory sounded unlikely. He'd seen lots of terrible things in his life, but none of them had ever caused him to lose his memory before. "What're you saying, Sweets? That the head injury didn't cause the amnesia?"

"It's complicated, but I believe that when you woke up and saw Dr Brennan, your first memory of her was the only memory of her you can recall now."

Booth stopped pacing again to look at Sweets "At the end of the Arrington case, when she told me she hated me and slapped me in the face?"

Sweets nodded "Yes. My theory is, that because the only memory you had was of her rejecting you, you were afraid to remember her. You believed she didn't return your feelings and because you love her, you knew how painful that would be. So, rather than endure the emotional pain, you blocked it out."

"Are you saying I don't want to remember Bones? Because that sounds like bullshit to me."

Sweets noticed how Booth had called Dr Brennan 'Bones'. He hadn't called her that since his head injury and his inadvertent slip helped add weight to his theory that Booth was unconsciously blocking his memories of her.

"No, of course not. But it's clear your mind has buried the memories very deep, and sometimes once they've been buried, it can be difficult to bring them back."

Booth sat down on the couch again. "So… how do I get them back?"

"Well, we've tried psychotherapy and we can try cognitive therapy. There are some medications that can be useful, or, as I've just mentioned, hypnotherapy. It's also still possible the memories may resurface without intervention."

"How?"

"Occasionally, they can be triggered by something you experience in your surroundings."

Booth nodded, recalling the déjà vu feelings he'd been having.

"But, I think we should try the hypnotherapy."

Booth wasn't convinced by Sweets' theory. Was he really suggesting he was afraid to remember his wife? But the more he thought about it, the more he realised it made sense. Could that be the reason why he had been avoiding her and keeping her at arm's length? Was he afraid of losing her? he asked himself. The answer was undoubtedly 'yes'. As Booth considered all this, he had an epiphany. He loves her! Of course he loves her! Why would he be so afraid to lose her if he didn't? He urgently needed to go find her. "No, Sweets. No hypnotherapy! Look, I haven't got time for this, I've got to go."

If he was going to have any chance of getting his memories back and prevent himself from losing his wife, he had to talk to her and put things right. He stood up from his seat and pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Booth? Where are you going, Our session isn't over…." Sweets said, but it was a waste of time. Booth was already out the door.

Booth stalked out of Sweets' office while rapidly typing a text to Brennan asking her to meet him at the diner. He had to see her as soon as possible. He had to tell her what he couldn't say yesterday. He loves her and always has.