Booth was pacing in the waiting room, still trying to get Jared on the phone, when his phone started ringing in his hand. Without looking at it, he answered. "Booth." He barked into it, hoping that it was Jared calling him back.

"Hey, how is Gracie?" Ace said, hearing Booth sigh on the line.

"She's awake." Booth said, finally sitting down, he leaned back and stretched his back. "But I think we have a bigger problem."

"Yeah, I was just calling about that."

Booth's heart jumped into his throat. "Please tell me that the body that you found in that pond wasn't my nephew."

"It's definitely not your nephew." Ace replied. "But the person that we have in custody, is your nephew." Ace paused.

"You have Seeley?"

"He's in holding." Ace replied. "See you in an hour."

"See you in an hour."

Aiden glanced again at his passenger. She had her face away from him, her head resting on the headrest. He wasn't sure if she was sleeping or just resting. He watched as she seemed to tremble a bit, and he reached forward to put the heat in the car up a little higher. The snow had really slowed them down, and the afternoon had waned into winter darkness. He glanced to her again, and noticed she was moving around a bit, she turned her eyes onto him. He could feel a bit of heat on his cheeks, and was grateful for the darkness of the car for the moment. Her dark eyes were staring at him, watching him blink nervously, and his fingers lightly drumming on the steering wheel.

"When I was little, I thought that ambulances took people to jail." She said softly. "I thought that hospitals were these desolate wastelands of sadness and despair." She sighed. "Nobody ever went to a hospital happily."

He nodded quietly, hoping that she'd continue. He glanced over and she was still staring at him. "I don't like them either." He said honestly. "Too many of them are dark and dreary. The crappy furniture and fake pictures, the grandmotherly lamps on tables. It's like it's trying to remind you that things get old, and nothing is permanent."

"Hospitals smell like disinfectant and hopelessness." She whispered. "There are too many dark corners, the lights sort of have a buzzing sound that just mixes with the sound of heart monitors, computer keyboards, and hacking coughs."

"Have you ever noticed how people whisper in hospitals?" he asked, watching her nod her head. "Like they're so worried that they're going to interrupt someone else, or that the fact that they are there is some big secret."

She sighed. "I also don't like elevators, dinosaurs, or when people sneak up on me." She said, watching a humored smirk appear on his face.

"That last one, I know about very well." He laughed lightly. "Elevators, though?"

"I don't like any closed in rooms." She said, watching his eyebrow lift. "It's personal." She said softly, watching him nod.

"I don't like snakes, horses, or clowns."

Antonia let out a small laugh, and caught his curious glance. "My dad hates clowns!"

"Your dad is a very smart man." Aiden laughed.

"It is completely irrational." She said, shaking her head. She watched him become serious, feigning offense, she tilted her head, a smile still on her face, she shook her head and looked out of the window, the smile slowly fading as guilt began to replace the bit of humor she had enjoyed.

"Hey, it's okay to laugh." He said, catching the look on her face before she had turned away. "It's supposed to help heal."

She turned her face to him, her eyes unbelieving and stubborn. "I am sure there is no amount of laughing that will be able to heal this." She said, indicating herself. "And I don't think my sister is going to be laughing much when she wakes up and finds that she has a hole in her."

He nodded, trying not to push. He had finally gotten her to talk to him, and the last thing he wanted was make her angry at him. He nodded his head and reached over to touch her hand, politely reminding her that he understood, and was being supportive. She accepted his gesture, finding comfort in his warm hand on hers.

She took a slow deep breath and sat back, looking out the window for a moment, she noticed that they had finally made their way to the hospital. He pulled to the front of the hospital and stopped in the drop off area, he gently lifted his hand from hers and pulled the SUV into park. "We're here." He said, watching her eyes rake over the large building, the lights inside beckoning them.

She turned her head to him and grimaced slightly. "Maybe you could bring me to the lab instead?"

"Go on." He said, nodding toward the doors. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Just… take the stairs, talk loudly, watch your back… and avoid the geriatric ward, and you won't see any dinosaurs."

She laughed, reaching for his hand, she gave it a squeeze, surprising herself in the gesture, she just felt better making the connection with someone. "Thank you." She said softly, she carefully climbed from the car and smiled.

He watched as she closed the door, and took a step toward the door, he waved her to indicate that she needed to walk inside before he'd leave. She shook her head and turned around, walking toward the doors of the hospital, she turned and waved again as she stepped inside. He waited another moment and then pulled the car into drive, and started on his way.

He was nearly out of the parking lot when he realized that Antonia's cell phone was sitting in his cup holder, and he thought it was lucky that he had caught it then. So, he turned toward the visitor parking area, and parked the car. He grabbed her phone into his hand, shoved it into his pocket, and jogged a little on his way toward the hospital. He stepped into the lobby, and instead of going to the elevator, he decided to take the stairs. He walked into the stairwell and looked up the metal staircase and paused a moment when he thought he heard a sound. Slowly he ascended the steps, listening to what he thought sounded like a whimper. "Hello?" he called, climbing the steps just a bit faster. He got to the fourth-floor landing and stopped. He looked up at the top step on the next landing, where he found Antonia sitting with her head in her hands, and in the middle of a massive panic attack.