A/N: Here is the continuation of the previous chapter. I hope you like it and thanks once again for all of your reviews!
He was restless, unable to sleep. Glancing over at the clock he saw that it was one-thirty in the morning. He let out a sigh and thought about the day's events. He didn't know why he was in Washington, he knew Booth would come find him. But he wanted to do what his dad asked. He thought about how sad Dad had been after they drove off, leaving Tempe handcuffed to the bench.
They stopped just outside of town and he watched as his Dad paced back and forth, muttering to himself before finally hopping back into the car. He never asked Dad about it but he knew it was about Tempe.
He rolled over and bunched his pillow, trying to get some sleep. He found himself staring at brightly coloured dinosaurs on the wall. Booth explained that this was his son Parker's room, that was one of three sentences that he said to him since they had left the Jeffersonian. He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. He was still angry. 'I have every right to be.' He thought to himself. 'This is Tempe's fault. If she hadn't wanted answers in the first place…'
And now his dad was gone.
He remembered it like it was yesterday, waking up in the motel room and seeing the envelope lying on the pillow of the other bed. Reading it and not believing, running outside, asking everyone if they had seen him. But like always, Max Keenan knew how to get away without being noticed.
A brief smile came to his face as he thought about how they used to play hide and seek when they were kids. Despite the number of times they tried, they could never find Dad when he hid. It would be only after they started to get frustrated that he would let out a cough and alert them to where he was. Then they would jump on him and give him the tickle torture for making it hard.
He rolled over again and sighed. He didn't know what he was doing here. He was going to leave in the morning, it was useless. He leaned over the bed and reached into his pants on the floor and pulled out the letter. The letter was crumpled, he had read it at least a hundred times. He read it again, his eyes stopping on one sentence "I have no doubt that you will both take care of each other. She already has Agent Booth, but she needs you as well.'
'Yeah well she's made it perfectly clear that she doesn't need me.' He thought to himself angrily. He shoved the letter back into the pocket and leaned back against the pillow. He touched his eye briefly and winced in pain. 'Who knew that Angela could throw a punch like that?'
Sharp knocking at the door pulled him out of his thoughts and without thinking, he pulled back the covers, got out of bed and opened the door quietly. He crept slowly down the hall as he saw Booth cross the living room to the door and open it. Booth stepped back and he saw his sister come in. He moved forward a bit more to hear what they were saying.
"Hey." She said softly. "I'm sorry it's late, but I just…" she trailed off.
"Bones, its okay." Booth replied ushering her inside. "What's wrong?"
"I…do you think Russ is right?" she said, her voice shaking.
"About what?" he asked.
"That I…I abandoned my family." She said, a tear slipping down her cheek.
"Absolutely not." He said, drawing her into his arms. "You know that's not true."
"What if…what if I'm not doing the right thing?" she asked.
He pulled away from her and looked her straight in the eyes.
"Temperance, you want to find out what happened to your Dad right?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Then you are doing the right thing." He said firmly.
"Maybe I am obsessed with the truth." She said, wiping the tears from her eyes.
"Russ wants the truth too." He said. "That's why he is so angry. If he didn't want to find out what happened to your dad, he wouldn't be here."
"I can't….I don't…" she trailed off. She leaned into him again, letting her hot tears fall down her cheeks, wetting both their shirts.
"Ssh…it's okay." He said, pulling her closer and stroking her hair. "It's going to be okay."
Russ watched as Tempe cried and then suddenly she was no longer the strong willed forensic anthropologist, but his little sister who used to come to him crying when the neighbourhood boy called her names. He always threatened to beat anyone up who called her names.
He shrunk back against the wall as he watched Booth lead Tempe to his bedroom, whispering soft assurances into her hair. He headed back down the hall and sat down on the bed. Now he was the one who had called her names. Once he had stood up for her and protected her and now he was yelling at her.
He put his head in his hands and for the first time since his father died he let the tears slip down his cheeks.