Temperance Brennan was in Hell. Which was unsettling because she didn't actually believe in Heaven or Hell, or God or the Devil, but Hell seemed to be the most fitting way to describe the place she was in, metaphorically. She was beginning to understand how the religious tales of hell had come to fruition and why they had endured. Whoever had written the stories all those centuries ago had obviously been suffering, just like she was now.

Brennan was in no way a spiritual person. She didn't believe in fate, karma, kismet or any other spiritual or religious construct. Everything in the universe could be explained scientifically, governed by the laws of physics. There were still things that were unexplained, but only because of the limitations of technology or of the ability of the human brain to comprehend them. Which is what must be happening to her right now. Her brilliant mind had never failed to grasp a concept before, but currently she had no other explanation.

The pain she was in was bewildering. Her body physically hurt, but she could not determine the origination of the discomfort. It seemed to be everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. Her chest was constantly tight, making taking even the smallest breath difficult. Her limbs were heavy and stiff, and she felt slow. Her appetite had vanished, she was tired all the time, and yet, sleep was elusive. How she longed to be unconscious, to not feel this agony. But no matter what she tried, she only managed to sleep for an hour or two at most and it brought little relief, for in her dreams, she was haunted by him. Booth.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face. Every time she managed to snatch those few precious minutes of sleep; he was there. She would jolt awake, her mind muddled and confused as she transitioned to consciousness. The knowledge that he was dead would return and she would feel a fresh jolt of pain, as raw and agonising as the first time. She couldn't cry though. Since that first night in the shower, she hadn't shed a single tear.

On the outside, she was coping. She had spent a few nights at the lab but for the most part, despite the lack of sleep, she was still getting up in a morning, making herself presentable, going to work and doing her job. She was functioning. But on the inside, she was hollow, empty. A mere shell of her former self. She felt like a creature from a horror movie, a zombie or a vampire. Alive on the outside, but dead inside, with the pain the only reminder that she was still alive.

It had been nearly two weeks since the day Brennan's world changed forever, and Booth's funeral was in less than two days. Booth's funeral. She was still struggling to believe that it was real. Brennan found herself growing angry as she thought about how Booth chose to take the bullet. He had promised her. In a moment of insecurity about their relationship, she had sought reassurance from him, and he promised. He promised her that he would never leave. What did he think was going to happen doing what he did? The way she saw it, the moment he stepped in front of her, he chose to leave. That bullet was meant for her. She could have taken it. She might have survived, and she wouldn't now be facing a long and empty life, alone.

There was no way she could go to his funeral. She was so angry, so distressed, so goddamn heartbroken. She couldn't bear the thought of seeing his coffin lowered into the ground, knowing he was inside it. To know that she would never again get to see his fine face, his warm brown eyes, his gentle smile. Never again to feel his strong arms around her, giving her warmth and comfort, his hands as they caressed her skin, his lips on hers. Never again would she hear his comforting voice, the sound of her name from his lips warming her insides, reassuring her after a nightmare, making her laugh… Laughter felt like an alien concept to her now and she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever laugh again.

She also didn't think she would be able to bear listening to the words spoken by the priest during the funeral rite. Her relationship with God was already non-existent. She just simply didn't believe in Him, and Booth's death had confirmed her belief that He didn't exist because if he did, He wouldn't have let Booth die. Hearing the priest eulogise about how Booth was with God now would only fuel her anger, because how could God have needed Booth more than she did?

Brennan's life up to now had always been focussed, the goals she was aiming for absolutely clear. She had never faltered in her quest to attain them, but now, she didn't know what her focus was, never mind how to achieve it. Each day was a struggle, something to be endured or tolerated. She was existing, not living.

Her wakeup call came that afternoon at the lab. She was in Bone Storage, the same place she had been every day for almost two weeks, when it suddenly dawned on her that she had been at the lab for three days straight with the same set of remains in front of her. It wasn't a particularly unusual or challenging skeleton. All 206 bones were present and there were several obvious indicators on the bones that would assist in her identification, but she had failed to log any details or come to any conclusions. She also could not recall the last time she ate. Angela had been bringing her food, but she hadn't eaten it. The various sandwiches, soups and yogurts were all sitting on the table to her left, untouched. She was stuporous and she knew if she didn't do something about it, she would end up like the skeleton in front of her.

While she was packing the remains back into their box, she made a decision. She needed to do something that made her feel alive. Something that would distract her from the pain, even if just for a few minutes. She checked her watch and tried to recall what day it was. She frowned as she realised that her options were limited at 8.30pm on a Monday. She had hoped for something adrenaline inducing, like bungee jumping or kayaking but that would be impossible to find at this time of day. She thought about it for a moment, considering her options and coming up with one idea that might work, but it was a last resort. It felt wrong somehow, and she wasn't happy about doing it, but she was desperate.

She emerged from Bone Storage into the central area of the lab to find the lights subdued and the usual hum of activity absent. The whole place was deserted. Everyone apart from a couple of techs finishing up for the day had gone home, including Zack who was often there until late in the evenings. She needed to take a shower, but there were too many memories at home that might make her change her mind about her plan, and she needed this. So instead, she slipped into the decontamination room to use the shower there before dressing quickly in a set of spare clothes she kept at the lab then heading back to her office to call a cab.

As she lifted the phone to make the call, a number scrawled on the tablet on her desk made her stop. She slowly lowered herself onto her chair and replaced the receiver on the phone. The telephone number belonged to Rebecca Stinson. Booth's ex, the mother of his child. Parker.

Brennan had grown close to Booth's son. She was incredibly fond of him and in the short time since beginning a relationship with Booth, Brennan had begun to love Parker as if he were her own child. But right now, she barely knew how to deal with her own grief, so how would she know what to say to the six-year-old boy who no longer had a father because of her. She knew she should speak to him. She wanted to speak to him, but each time she had attempted to make the call she had hung up before the call connected. Because what was she going to say to him? "Hi Parker, It's me, Temperance. It's my fault your father is dead."

She felt a sob rise in her chest, but her eyes remained dry. Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she lifted the phone again and dialled for that cab. She needed to be somewhere where she wouldn't be constantly reminded of what she had lost, to lose herself in something other than her grief. Desperate to commence her plan, she grabbed her jacket and bag and strode quickly through the lab to go and wait outside.

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

Angela Montenegro awoke with a start. She jumped up in her seat and groggily looked around the room, assessing where she was. She was in her office, at her desk and she had clearly been drooling in her sleep as a sheet of paper was stuck to her face. She peeled the paper off and wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb. Checking her watch, she saw it was late and that she had been asleep for a couple of hours.

It was rare for her to sleep at work, but she had been keeping strange hours lately trying to keep an eye on her best friend. The past two weeks had been difficult. Angela had cried every day, grieving for Booth and for the pain of her best friend who she was so incredibly worried about. Brennan wasn't sleeping, she wasn't eating, and she was spending all her time at the lab. Angela was doing what she could. She had convinced her several times to go home but Brennan had informed her afterwards that it had been pointless as she couldn't sleep anyway. She had also been constantly taking food for her all of which she knew lay untouched, but she kept taking it in the hope she might eat something. Short of force feeding her, Angela knew she couldn't have done any more for her, but she still wondered how long a person could go without eating or sleeping without collapsing and she was concerned Brennan wasn't far from that point. Cam and Sweets had both tried to tempt her out of Limbo but she had flatly refused, sending both of them packing with their tails between their legs.

Angela stiffly pushed her chair away from the desk and rose slowly, her tired legs jerky and sore. She hadn't been taking very good care of herself lately, and she knew Hodgins was irritated with her. He had complained the other day that he had barely seen her these past two weeks, but she told him that unless Brennan showed any big signs of improvement, it wasn't going to change. They are her family and Angela wasn't about to abandon her like her other family had.

As she left her office, she saw that the lab was completely empty. Everyone had gone home apart from her and Brennan. Angela needed to go home and get some decent sleep. She hadn't spent the night at the lab like Brennan had been doing, but she had been coming in early every morning and leaving late every night, even coming in on the weekends. Angela was exhausted and knew Brennan must be too, so she decided to try to convince her to come home to her apartment tonight. Brennan had been here at the lab for three days straight. It was unhealthy and Angela thought a change of scenery might help her to sleep as well as allowing Angela to get some more rest too.

Trudging down the steps to Limbo, Angela shuddered as the cooler air hit her bare shoulders. She hated Bone Storage. Even though she had been working with the dead for several years now, she still felt there was something extra creepy about a room full of bones.

"C'mon Sweetie, I'm taking you home. You've been here long enough." She called out as she turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs. But the worktable at the front of the room was empty and Brennan was nowhere to be seen.

Feeling a twinge of concern, Angela quickly checked in between the rows of racks, making sure that Brennan wasn't simply selecting a new set of remains to work on.

"Brennan?" She called, but there was no reply.

Angela fervently hoped that she had simply gone home for the night, but she knew that was unlikely because Brennan had barely set foot in her apartment since the death of her partner. Angela still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that Brennan and Booth had been dating before he died. Even though Brennan hadn't given Angela any more details of the relationship, she knew they were more than 'dating'. Angela had observed them both over the time she had known them, and it was obvious to her that Brennan had unknowingly been in love with Booth for a couple of years and Booth in love with Brennan for even longer than that. It was impossibly sad that they had finally realised what they felt for each other, but it had been tragically snatched away.

Every room Angela passed on her way to Brennan's office was empty. The big laboratory was usually always humming with activity making it almost eerie when it was so quiet. She accepted that her best friend liked to be alone, but Angela couldn't understand it. Like most people, Angela liked some time alone, but for the most part, she was a social creature, preferring to be in the company of others than to be by herself. She always had an uncomfortable feeling of disconnection from the world when she was alone, feeling almost like she could be the only person left on Earth and she didn't like it.

As she reached Brennan's office, Angela could see it was in complete darkness. She paused at the door, trying to see if maybe she was asleep on the couch, but the office was empty. No Brennan. Quickly pacing back to her office to grab her cell phone, Angela craned her neck trying to see upstairs to see if maybe she was getting a cup of coffee or something in the lounge but that too was empty apart from the security guard on the catwalk.

She quickly dialled Brennan's number, cursing under her breath that she had fallen asleep. She was accustomed to Brennan doing whatever the hell she feels like, but her behaviour recently had been so out of character that Angela was feeling increasingly concerned about her whereabouts.

"Hello?"

Angela breathed a sigh of relief when Brennan answered her phone. "It's just me, Sweetie."

"I know that, Angela. I saw your caller ID."

Angela rolled her eyes at her words, but something didn't sound right. She had enunciated each word slowly and carefully as if she had to concentrate hard on what she was saying. Angela could also hear music in the background and voices. Where was she?

"Where are you?"

"I'm in the pub!" Brennan replied in what Angela assumed to be a British accent.

What the hell? Just a couple of hours ago she was too sad to even eat and now she was drunk in some bar?

"What?! Which pub?" Angela demanded but there was no response from Brennan on the other end of the line, just the ambient sounds of the bar.

"Which pub Brennan?" Angela repeated impatiently down the phone. She needed to find her and do some damage limitation. After taking on such little sustenance, Angela knew it would only take a tiny amount of alcohol before Brennan was completely wasted.

"O'Neill's Tavern on New York Avenue." Brennan finally responded, her tone sulky like a teenager, but at least she had dropped the fake accent even if she was now slurring her words.

"Stay there, I'm coming to get you." Angela ordered before hanging up, grabbing her keys and hurrying out of the lab to her car.

The drive to the bar seemed to take forever but in reality, it could only have taken 20 minutes. Angela dumped her car and headed into the tavern hoping Brennan had listened to her and stayed put.

O'Neill's Tavern was a very stereotypical Irish themed pub. Angela had been in dozens just like it with the same sticky wooden floors, large tv screens showing European soccer and quite often a lousy band playing on a stage in the corner. The smell of stale beer surrounded her as she walked in. There was no band here tonight, but there was a very inebriated Brennan at the bar. The L shaped bar was on the opposite side of the room to the stage and Brennan was wedged in the left corner between the wall and the bar. She was slouched in her seat with one elbow on the wooden bar, propping her up. Her other hand was on the chest of a man in a cheap suit stood right next to her who had his hand so far up her thigh he was almost touching her ass.

Angela was appalled at her best friend's behaviour and at the creepy guy who was currently leering all over her. Angela got it. Brennan was grieving badly. But what part of her supposedly genius brain thought that coming to a bar to pick up some random guy was the way to deal with that? She marched across the room straight over to Brennan and grabbed her elbow, pulling her from the grasp of the strange man.

"C'mon, Sweetie. It's time to go home." Angela said firmly.

Brennan glared at Angela and yanked her elbow from her grip. "I'm not ready to leave, Angela."

The man stood next to Brennan interjected, shifting so he was in between Angela and Brennan. "Oi! Leave her alone." His accent was British, making Angela wonder if that was what had prompted Brennan's bizarre attempt at one on the phone earlier.

Angela turned her full attention to the man and coolly assessed him. He was at least 50 years old, short, with sandy coloured hair that was badly receding. "And you are?" Angela asked as she drew herself to her full height. She towered over the man, and he almost had to take a step back to make eye contact.

He didn't back down easily though. "I'm Colin. Who the bloody hell are you?" He said, as a small smirk appeared on his face and his gaze dropped to Angela's chest.

Angela immediately turned her back on him and forced herself back in between him and Brennan. She grabbed Brennan's elbow again, pulling her away from the bar before turning back towards creepy Colin. "I'm her best friend and I'm here to stop her making a big mistake."

Brennan allowed Angela to drag her from her seat this time and stumbled along beside her as she guided her out of the pub.

Even in her drunken state, Brennan could tell that Angela was mad at her because she didn't utter a single word to her until they were both seated in her car.

Angela exploded the moment she closed her car door. "What the hell were you thinking, Brennan?!"

Brennan didn't answer and her eyes fell to her fingers that she was twisting in her lap. In all honesty, she didn't know what she was thinking any more. "It was a stupid idea, Ange." She admitted. "I just wanted a distraction from the pain. To feel something other than grief." Her words were still slurred but she appeared to be sobering up.

"And you thought the best way to do that was to get wasted and flirt with a random guy in a bar?" Angela asked incredulously.

Thanks to the alcohol she had consumed, Brennan's already flimsy brain-to-mouth filter disintegrated as she blurted out her next words. "No, my aim was to have intercourse."

"WHAT?!" Angela shrieked. "My God Bren. First of all, your boyfriend died less than two weeks ago, and we haven't even had his funeral yet! And second, did you see that guy you were flirting with?! He was a full-on creep."

"I thought he was very charming." Brennan retorted petulantly, even though she had to admit she hadn't found him attractive at all, but her options had been limited. She had considered calling one of the men she used to have occasional sexual relations with, but she had previously informed most of them that she was together with Booth and she hadn't wanted to explain why she was suddenly available again.

Angela rolled her eyes "Whatever, Brennan. That's not the point. You've spent the past two weeks locked in the lab, barely eating or sleeping. You're still grieving. Going out and getting drunk with the aim of sleeping with a random man is crazy. You put yourself in danger. Can't you see that?"

"You sound like Booth." Brennan said softly still staring into her lap.

"I'm sorry." Angela said gently. "I didn't mean to… But - y'know what? I can see now why he was so overprotective. You shouldn't put yourself in danger like that, Bren. There are still people who love you, who care about you, who would be devastated if anything happened to you."

Brennan wasn't comfortable with the direction this conversation was heading. She didn't want to address her or anyone else's feelings. She had come out tonight with the aim of doing something to feel alive but instead, now she felt guilt weighing her down on top of her grief. Her best friend was right though, she had been reckless, and she was thankful that Angela had stopped her from doing something she would have regretted in the morning. She was just going to have to find another way to cope, to get some semblance of her life back.

Sad blue eyes met concerned browns as Brennan finally looked at Angela. "I would like to go home now, Angela."

"Sure Sweetie." She paused a moment, weighing up if her offer of a different place to stay would be welcome or not. "Would you like some company? We could stay at my place?"

Brennan considered for a moment. She had been shutting herself away and it hadn't helped. Maybe staying with Angela for a night might help. "That would be good." She said with a small smile, the first smile Angela had seen from her for nearly two weeks, giving her hope that this could be the turning point she had been waiting for.