Their entrance went unnoticed to the young man sitting beside the bed, his eyes drooping slightly as he held tightly to his friend's hand. The monitors beside the bed maintained the steady beat of her heart. He heard the sound of feet beside him, and looked up quickly, catching the sight of two people that he was very familiar with. A sad smile, laced with concern was on his lips, and he stood at their arrival.

"Mr. Hodgins." Temperance said softly, catching the faint glint of humor in the young man's eyes, he nodded solemnly, and then moved quickly for a hug. She could feel his face bury in her shoulder, as a strangled sob was released. "Oh, Jack." She whispered, holding her best friend's son tightly as all of his fears, and all of his sadness was finally able to be released. "Oh, sweetheart." Temperance whispered, feeling her own sadness as it started to take her over, she too began to cry.

Booth stepped forward, wrapping his arm around his wife as she held the trembling and inconsolable JV, his eyes gently moved over the sight before him. His little girl looked tiny in the large hospital bed. Her ankle was wrapped, in preparation of an eventual boot or cast, her arm and shoulder were bandaged heavily in post-operative dressing. She had scratches on her forehead, and she lie so still on the bed, so lifeless, and unlike her. He took a slow, deep breath, feeling the wracking sobs of his wife and the young man that they considered as an honorary family member. He moved them toward the small loveseat in the room, their bodies still holding onto one other for support as their tears slowed.

"I was here when she came in." JV sniffled. "It was radioed in that an officer was down, but she was the last person that I expected to see coming through that door." He whispered.

"I know, baby." Temperance said, wiping the tears from his cheeks as her own tears subsided.

"I was so scared." He hiccuped. "I just… I would have called you, but I needed to…"

"You needed to be with her, Jack." Temperance whispered. "I'm so glad you were here for her."

"She was in so much pain." He whispered. "She was just talking gibberish, and I just kept telling her that I was there, that I was listening." He whispered. "I hope she knew that I was listening."

"She knew you were listening, sweetheart." Temperance assured. She felt better holding him, knowing that her care and love was making him feel better. She couldn't heal her daughter's wounds, but she could care for those around her, hold them close and be there.

Booth stepped to Grace's bedside and sat beside her, reaching for her left hand, he took it into his own, and smiled at the warmth that it still held. He sat in the chair beside the bed, and brought her hands to his lips, kissing it softly. "I love you, Squeaker." He could feel his own tears starting to well in his eyes. "I'm so proud of you, baby girl." He whispered, watching her closely, he held tightly to his emotions and broken hearted feeling. His heart ached for his little girl, and deep in his heart he knew that those responsible would pay for what they had done.

The hot coffee swirled with the gentle dip of the spoon, the gentle tinkle of porcelain on metal mixed the drops of cream, giving the liquid a tan tint, just enough to change the color, but preserve the flavor. Antonia stared at the swirling liquid, her eyes focusing on the small tornado formed by the moving liquid. She dropped the spoon into the cup and sighed. Her fork danced on the edge of the plate in front of her, poking the buttery pie crust as it flaked off onto the plate, the whole pie slice sitting there since it had been delivered nearly an hour earlier.

Thoughts were running rampant through her mind, diving and ducking through her brain's logical netting, she was alone in the diner but for the lone waitress who sat reading through a magazine at the counter, counting the moments until she was relieved, so she could go home and celebrate Christmas with her family.

Antonia felt a pang of anxiety in her stomach at the thought of the holiday, one that she loved and waited patiently for each year, which had now been scarred by this unthinkable trauma, this addition to the list of reasons to sleep through another day. She brought the hot liquid to her lips, allowing it to burn her lip as she sipped at it, tasting its potency, closing her eyes. She rested her forehead in her hand, and listened to the sounds of the diner. She could hear the buzz of the lights above her, the slight shuffle of the pages of the waitress's magazine, and then a gentle ring of the bell on the door. She didn't look up, assuming that the soul who had entered the diner on this dreary Christmas early afternoon was just another quick customer looking for some liquid warmth to push them forward to their holiday destination. She kept her eyes closed, sipping the coffee again, pushing the hot liquid down her throat with her tongue.

She listened to the soft shuffle of feet coming in her direction, and could hear the gentle kick of the chair across from her as the guest sat down with a slight groan. She opened her eyes to a set of familiar brown eyes, and found it very difficult not to roll her own. He reached across and pulled the plate of pie close to him, picking up a fork on his side of the table, he stabbed it and scooped a forkful.

"That's my chair." He nodded, catching the raised eyebrow from the young woman.

"Excuse me?" She whispered.

"That's my chair." He said, watching her eyes narrow, she shook her head. "That was the first thing that you ever said to me." He shoved the pie into his mouth and raised his eyebrows. "That's my chair."

"I don't know what that means." She said, watching as he shook his head and took another forkful.

He was silent for a moment, putting the pie into his mouth, he watched her eyes move back to her coffee. "Ant." He started, watching her grip the cup with her whole hand, wrapping around the mug. "Toni." He said softly.

"Ace." She said his nickname, her throat tight and her eyes sharp. She had the intense dark eyes of a Booth, with the unforgiving stare of her mother. "I really am not in the mood to be lectured."

"She's going to be okay." He said simply, and he swore that he saw a soft breath of relief. "She's in very bad shape, but she's going to be okay."

"I didn't ask." She said.

"Yeah, well, I'm just telling you anyway. You're not like this, Toni. What is going on with you?" Harding asked softly.

"Nothing is going on with me. I just don't like hospitals."

"That's bullshit." Ace said, calling it out right there. He watched her eyes widen slightly in protest, her jaw immediately clenching angrily. "What? I'm going to call it like I see it." He said, leaning forward. "You can't blame yourself for what happened to Max. It was his decision for that do not resuscitate order. Just because his heart attack happened in a hospital, doesn't mean you can hold it against the hospital for the rest of your life. If it happened at an ice cream shop, would you have sworn off Ben and Jerry's?" He snapped.

"Ace, you don't understand." She said. "I love my sister very much, but I couldn't protect her from this situation, and I can't help her get better. Mom and dad have one another, okay? It's fine. Mom's not alone, Dad's not alone. Grace has them. She doesn't need me."

"Bullshit." Ace replied.

Antonia took a slow, deep breath, sipping her coffee. "Nobody listens to anything that I have to say anyway." She could see that he was about to repeat his earlier sentiment, and reached across to touch his hand. He caught the pleading look in her eyes and stopped himself.

"Are you blaming yourself for the shooting? Because as far as I know, you weren't the one that pulled the trigger." Ace said softly, leaning toward her, he squeezed her hand.

Ant stared at her mother's partner with a tinge of hurt, unsure of what to say. He was about to say something more when his cell phone rang. He held his finger up to her to wait and answered. "Harding." He said into the line, listening intently. "Well Merry Christmas to us, huh?" He chuckled slightly and reached back for the pie on the table, stabbing another forkful. "Mm…" He nodded, his eyes staring directly into Antonia's, her glare intensifying. "Well, it just so happens that I have Doctor B. here with me right now." He said, smirking at Antonia's sudden surprised expression. "Send me the location, and we'll be right over." He said, ending the call. He looked across the table and shoved the forkful of pie in his mouth, he stood up.

"Ace?"

"Looks like we have a case, little Bones." He stood up and clapped his hands. "Come on, chop chop!" He said, watching as she became slightly flustered, but quickly prepared to leave, pulling her coat onto her shoulders.

"Ace, I can't…" She said, dropping a few dollars on the table, she watched him adjust his coat and turn his head quickly in her direction.

"What do you mean you can't? I work with the Jeffersonian, and right now Doc is a bit busy. You're a squint, that works for the Jeffersonian, and we have a body to recover in a pond." He said. "It's logical." He nodded, walking toward the door. "I thought you Brennan women were all about the logical." He laughed to himself.

"Ace." Antonia said softly, her tone unsure, but it was clear that her interest with piqued.

"Let's go, I have your mom's gear in my truck." He said, opening the door to the diner, he nodded toward his vehicle.

"I dont..."

"We can call Doctor Brennan on the way and let her know what's going on." He said, trying to hurry her decision.

"Okay." She nodded, and quickly followed him to his waiting car.