Part II...the last part will be happy...i promise :)

Brennan stared at the bottle in quiet contemplation. It looked so enticing. The lethally clear liquid perfectly still inside its glass casing. It seemed like an easy escape. She could take the bottle, pour herself a big glass with ice, and swallow it, relishing in the fiery pain as the mind-numbing alcohol rushed down her throat

Within minutes she wouldn't remember. Everything would be hazy and warm and comfortable. That's all it would take to forget. Another glass and she would be passed out on her living room couch. Brennan could never hold her liquor.

She'd sleep through the next day, and wake up with a horrible hangover, her head feeling as though it's being split in two. But if that's what it took to forget, then she would do it.

Picking up the bottle, she studied it carefully, and a burst of rage surged through her body. She wished she hadn't pulled it out of her ice box. She wished she could throw it onto her apartment floor and watch it shatter in pieces.

She didn't believe in metaphors, but it most definitely was one to the way her heart was feeling.

Shattered into glass pieces that would never all be picked up.

He didn't deserve for her to tear herself apart over him. He didn't warrant a night of strong Vodka and a day's worth of hangovers. She didn't want to give him the sweet satisfaction of thinking he had gotten to her.

She found herself getting angrier and angrier thinking about it. What made him think that he had the right to address her about her "issues" when he was the one who was currently contributing to them? He had no right. She had every right to be hurt and damaged. Everyone who she cared about had left. It was inevitability.

"Don't you think its time to get over the whole abandonment issues; I say enough time has passed by!"

Enough time hadn't passed by. He didn't realize that he was doing it to her right then. He was the one who made it so she couldn't get over it.

She had though that Booth was going to be different. That he was going to stay with her. She had been stupid to think that. He had thrown her away. Again. Just for not being able to get close to him. She had been trying. She thought they had been making progress.

I guess not.

She pushed the Vodka bottle far onto the table, leaning back onto her couch, and pulling her knees up to her chest, never feeling more alone.

She wanted him to knock on her door again, and say it had all been a mistake.

Instead she was alerted by her laptop which she had left on, with the familiar call of "You've Got Mail". She stared at the computer for a second; deciding whether or not she wanted to read the mail. It was probably something that was going to depress her even more.

She got up and walked over to her computer lethargically. It seemed like everything was moving in slow motion. Like she was waiting to go back in time and switch it back.

Sitting down at her desk, she clicked on the email, and read it carefully as its pop-up menu appeared.

Dr. Temperance Brennan: June 28, 2007

Our organization of the IAFAA, International Archaeology and Forensic Anthropology Association has unearthed a large amount skeletons, remains, and artifacts in a remote area of Northern China adjacent to the Great Wall. Many ancient and current remains have been found, and the IAFAA is having a difficult time identifying them. We would like to send them to the Jeffersonian Institute but there is not enough money or man power for that to be possible. You have helped us before, and would be quite an addition to the team we have formed which includes several other well known forensic anthropologists and archeologists. You expertise would be greatly appreciated, although do not feel pressure as it is evident that you are quite busy in your duties working with the FBI. Alert us as soon as possible with you reply.

Regards,

Dr. Alan Carmichael, Co-executive Chairman of the IAFAA

Brennan read it twice over before she even really comprehended the information. A dig. In China. It was so far away. She used to do this kind of work all the time before Booth, but then she hadn't felt the urge to run away again.

5 hours ago, she would have turned them down. Said no. The FBI needed her. Booth needed her.

Screw the FBI and Booth obviously doesn't need me.

It was just what she needed. An escape. She had finally found a place to run to. There was no place left to run in her life here. Everywhere was tainted of him. The lab, the diner, the monuments, her apartment. Even sitting on this couch made her think of the times they had fallen asleep together on the couch after spending hours pouring over cases and paperwork.

China. It was perfect. Booth always said, "Things happen for a reason.", but she never believed him. This had happened for a reason. She needed to go to China. She would go, and by the time she got back, everything she remembered so fondly about Booth would be gone. All the hurt would be gone.

Without even thinking, she quickly replied. Fast so she wouldn't have time to regret it.

Dr. Carmichael:

I am pleased to inform you that I will participate in your dig. I'll be on the first flight out of DC tomorrow morning. Thank you for this opportunity.

Temperance Brennan

She quickly hit send before she could even contemplate it. She needed this. It was the right thing. Buying a plane ticket would be easy, and she wanted nothing more then to get out of the life that felt like it was suffocating her. With a satisfied smile, she stood up, grabbing the bottle of Vodka. She didn't need that. She had somewhere to run.

Standing over her sink, she poured the contents of the burning liquid down the drain, feeling nauseated with herself that she would even think of drinking that. She didn't need to drink herself into a stupor to wish away the thoughts of Booth.

Because he'll always be there.

She shook the thought out of her mind, and started to her room, when she was stopped but what she thought was a knock. It wasn't loud, but she was positive she heard something. She stood for seconds, trying to figure out if she was just going crazy, or if there was really someone at her door.

Booth stood at her door, trying to decide whether or not he should knock. He pressed his forehead against the door, wishing that he could turn back the clock.

She hadn't deserved what he'd said to her. She hadn't deserved any of it. He wanted to take it all back. To hold her in his arms and tell her that it had been lies. She wouldn't take him back, and he didn't deserve that either.

The things he had said. The way hurt had written itself clearly across her face when he told her to get over it.

She better of without me. With someone who won't hurt her the way I did.

He ran his knuckles softly over the door, knowing it would be the last time he did it.

He had really screwed things up this time. He wanted her to be safe with someone who would take care of her. He didn't know how.

Booth turned, and walked away, pretending that he didn't feel his heart breaking with every step he took.

She opened the door quickly, part of her wishing that he was standing there, but all the greeted her was the empty hallway. She took a deep breath, listening to her breath that was the only sound in the deserted hallway.

Without warning, tears sprung from her eyes, and stung her face, and she slammed the door as hard as she could, angry at him for not being there, and even angrier at herself for wishing that he would be.

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