A/N: First of all, 100 reviews! I'm seriously freaking out that my story is worthy of reaching that many reviews. When I first posted the story I was expecting the usual, you know, five measly "good job" reviews, but no, you all proved me wrong and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to review my story. And, because of your reviews my story has stretched from a three chapter sob story to a definite novel! ;) Experiment time: if you actually read these put the word insane in your review, hehe, don't ask, it was just the first word that popped into my head. Weird, I know. Enjoy!

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These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

-"My immortal" Evanescence

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Burning rays melted through the tall oak trees, a mix of dark and light painting the cemetery with silent wistfulness. Booth stood lazily in front of two whitehead stones, hands jammed into the pockets of his faded jeans. A numb nostalgia washed over him as he read the two names imprinted into the smooth stone for the hundredth time. Jeremy Ruckers and Seeley Booth, killed in action.

His skin crawled, shivering with every distant noise, but his body burned feverishly, sweat glistening on his skin. He was in that coffin, buried beneath six feet of thick dirt. Every exhausted endeavor at feeling any amount of pure emotion, of being human, was wasted away, the draining attempts propelling him farther into his depression. No tears would fall, no laugh would spring from his open mouth, no anger emerge from within—he had nothing, everything lost in his scramble to cheat fate.

A nagging beep whispered it's condolences to the summer breeze as Booth clicked a button on his watch, the time sneering with disgust at him. Stop! Booth stripped off the offending device and shoved it into his pocket. He released a sigh of shame, taken back by his actions towards a minor delusion. "I'm losing it." Booth straightened his shirt and sauntered off to meet the limo pulling into the parking lot a few yards away.

President Howell stepped out of the secure, black vehicle and lifted a hand to meet the Ranger in a friendly handshake. Booth waded through the posse of guards and took the firm hand reluctantly.

"I never expected this moment to happen Agent Booth. It is an absolute pleasure to see you back home and walking among the living."

The jovial words hit Booth like a bullet, cutting through the demoralized shield that protected his weak, nonexistent life. There's nothing left. His lips quivered, head bowing with restrained animosity, "Thank you Mr. President, but it's just Booth."

"Oh, I expected that you would continue to work for the FBI. One of the highest positions has been cleared and is waiting for you." Booth's mind fizzed with abandoned control, words and images popping and scattering in a rollercoaster of confused thoughts. Latching onto the president's droning voice with a frazzled death grip, Booth pigeon-holed his attention to focus on their meaning. "I have your death certificate here. If you sign along this line, we can clear up this mess and get you back home to your family in a proper fashion. We could hold a ceremony; honor your bravery with…"

"I can't. This isn't…I can't do this." He stepped back, shaking his head absently, panic seizing his thumping heart.

"I don't understand?"

"There's no way I can go back…home. To act like nothing is wrong, like nothing's changed would be living a lie. They think I'm dead. They've moved on and that is how it will stay. I will not sign those papers nor while I take that job, Sir. Everything I've done, that I've seen has made me a liability and a danger to them as well as myself. I won't go back home and ruin the lives of everyone I love."

"I can't believe this. What will you do?"

"Leave. Please. Mr. President, don't make this harder than it already is. No one must ever know I came back. Please." Booth begged hoarsely, a faint spark of emotion breaking through a crack in the shield.

"Alright Booth, You requests will be followed. I just hope you know what you're doing."

Booth took the President's hand once more, shaking it with affirmed admiration, "Thank you, thank you so much! I was wondering if you happened to have my old resignation papers?"

The President turned around and grasped a portfolio from one of his guards. "Here you are Booth, it's yours to keep. Now is their anything more I could do for you, would you like a ride home to your apartment?"

"No thanks, I think you've done enough." Turning on his heel, booth jogged off into the waning light, leaving a perplexed president in his wake.

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Night and its loathing darkness had come too soon. Booth shriveled under the buffets of icy wind, huddling behind a metal trashcan. Grubbing around in his coat, he clung to his gold, military lighter and flicked it on, about to set the trash on fire when her smiling face suddenly appeared in the faint light. Reaching down, Booth picked up a fluttering newspaper, jaw dropping in skepticism as he read the headline.

"From pen and paper to real life renowned author has new man; has she finally found her real life Andy?"

A handsome, dark-haired man had his arm wrapped around her waist as they posed for a picture at a party for the Jeffersonian Institute. Booth tossed the newspaper into the trashcan, dumping a burning portfolio into the can as well. A tornado of fire hissed angrily upwards, gulping down the fuel with hasty swallows. A weight had been lifted off of his shoulders as he watched his past crumble slowly into a pile of black ash, but he couldn't let go. He felt bound, trapped in the past with no where to go but a lonely hole six feet deep. Life had played its evil tricks on him and now he was wandering between reality and illusion, stuck with a mind full of doubts and dangerous delusions.

Booth kicked the park bench with frustration, the fury and grief he knew he should be feeling would not emerge. He only had the cathartic act of inflicting pain to numb his depression. Pummeling the wood bench with violent punches Booth howled with hollow bitterness, blood trickling from his fingers.

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Angela watched with enticing interest as her friend hustled through the entrance door screaming bloody murder at the man trailing behind her. Ducking her head, Angela giggled slightly as a slap snapped through the open room, the man hissing madly at the minor attack.

He deserved it. Angela had been counting down the days, waiting for the moment when Brennan would finally go berserk on her boyfriend Liam. He was tall, dark-haired, cocky and was once the replacement for her new partner. It was obvious why she had agreed to date him and yet, no one had expected the kind of man he would turn out to be.

The whole lab had been on pins and needles today; Angela had made sure everyone had received notification of today's significance, but she must have forgotten Liam. Angela sidled up to the feuding pair, their heated shouting creating a heat wave capable of burning anyone who came to close.

"I'm tired of being treated like some piece-of-shit, second rate boyfriend!"

"By the way you behave it's hard to tell the difference!" Brennan felt like ripping the egotistical head off the idiot bellowing in front of her. All of her fuses had been lit the second she had woken up today and one tiny mistake would set her off like raging bottle rocket. It just happened to be him.

Angela forced herself between the butting heads of the couple, her calm voice attempting to halt the tirade. "Listen Liam, I don't think today is really such a…"

"Would you shut your goddamn trap and stay the hell out of other people's business!"

Angela was about ready to give the man her own beating, but clocking Brennan's outrage made her think twice, so she scooted behind her huffing friend and grinned with evil delight at the pending ass-kicking. "Oh, you are so going to be hurting tomorrow morning…"

"Listen Bones…" Liam spat out, mocking sarcasm wrapped around every syllable. "When I tell you to do something you obey me! You get no say in the matter. Nothing! I don't give a fuck what you and Booth used to do, you got that woman! He's gone, he ain't coming back. You're with me now so it's time you treat me like a real man rather than that lousy ass Booth just because you're still hung up on the dead man! Get over it already!"

An unidentifiable squeal of absolute torture ruptured across the lab as Brennan slammed her pointed heel into the roaring male's crotch. She had released the caged, snarling monster and now it was looking to feed on the revolting man shriveled below her. Brennan landed a thundering punch into the jaw of the writhing man, sending him sprawling across the slick tile.

Liam, holding his bruised jaw, flew to his feet and dashed across the room towards the combative woman. Twirling on her foot, Brennan sent a speeding heel into his gut causing him to tumble backwards, nose cracking against the tile. Brennan yanked Liam up by the ear, reprimanding him viciously as she dragged him to the exit.

"First: NO one tells my best friend to shut up! Second: you deserve to be treated like a ridiculous, useless nobody! Third: Booth is more a man than you could ever hope to be in this lifetime and lastly, I never want to hear his beautiful name pass your filthy lips again! Now stay the hell out of my lab!"

Brennan kicked Liam in the ass, where he found himself soaring down the concrete steps in a jumbled tumble, thudding heavily into the lush grass. Angela, Hodgins and Zack skidded up to their furious friend's side, faces etched with utter shock.

"Sweetie! You are so going to jail!" Angela gasped with stunned mirth.

"Baby, that was HOT!" Hodgins slapped Zack on the back, excitement bubbling from his body.

"Oh, oh my…I have to go!" Brennan stuttered on her words, astonished by her attack. Racing down the steps, she leaped over the moaning man and took off across the sheered lawn, heart pounding as she attempted to leave the bewildered mess behind.

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She needed comfort and the worn key resting in her smooth hand could offer her everything she craved—except one. Jamming the key into the lock, Brennan hurtled into the quiet, desolate apartment and flicked on a small lamp.

Everything was exactly the way he had left it; nothing moved, nothing touched. Brennan ran her fingers across the dusty photographs hanging in the hallway, smiling faintly at some of his goofy poses. Opening the bedroom door, Brennan stepped into his calming lair, the intoxicating scent causing her emotions to go into overdrive. Tears streaking her face, Brennan wandered over to his closet, stepping gingerly over the broken glass splayed across the carpet.

The black, somber suits hung from the rack with a dismal air. All his vibrant, silly ties folded neatly on a shelf, organized by color scheme. Laughing brightly at his meticulous organization, Brennan grabbed the bright red tie lying in the corner—her favorite—and placed it around her neck. Rubbing the smooth material with loving care, Brennan took a handful of ties and threw them on the bed, along with his expensive suits and pressed shirts.

Throwing herself into the pile of clothes, Brennan let the exhilarating feel and scent of his clothes transport her into the vivid memories of their days as partners and friends. His voice, his touch invaded her senses and she giggled happily at the remembrance of his stupid jokes. How he always made her laugh with that cocky smirk and the glitter in his eyes when they ate cherry pie after each case. Closing her eyes, Brennan allowed the dreamy memories to lull her into a relaxing sleep; the feeling of loneliness finally lost in the seams of reality after arriving unwelcome three years before—on the day he vanished.