My time of dying

Disclaimer: you know the drill people. Not mine, never will be.

AN: For those that were confused by the previous chapter will get some answers. I will try to have a chapter out once a week, work permitting. It won't be longer than 6 chapters. The scenes with Angela and Booth finding out about Temperance will be out in later chapters. Please persist it will get better. Thanks.

Chapter 2

The day of the funeral he could barely get out of bed, with her face dancing before his eyes, her hair glinting in the sunlight, her smile that could light up a room and those deep soulful blue eyes. The eyes that showed the depth of her sorrow at his words. He knew the second he blurted them out his future was ruined it was an unforgivable statement, a statement changing his stars forever. It should have been cushioned. Should have told her the truth. Not some flimsy excuse, not that.

Angela had called several times a day checking and monitoring his steep decline into depression. He reckoned looking after him was her way of keeping her own depression at bay focusing on others. Help them save themselves. It was always her strong point. Heart of gold, Angela had. She had even looked out for her, keeping her from losing herself in the land of the dead.

He pulled himself out of bed and into the shower he would get through today by focusing on the details. He would say his eulogy, then go back to the office and try to fit the puzzle together of everything that had happened in the 6 hours after he destroyed everything. He wasn't delusional this was entirely his fault and if he could give her spirit peace, he would die doing it.

As the hot watered cascaded over his back he rested his head against the cool tiles. He mentally catalogued everything found on this case. Definitely arson though no evidence gave clue to the bastard behind it.

The one fact that disturbed him the most was the squints inconclusive ID on the body. The top scientists in the world, her team and they couldn't tell if it was her or another women. How wasn't it her. It was her apartment, her clothes, and her charred remains, her mother's necklace, melted into the burnt flesh. He knew it was her.

He knew Zach and Hodgins had their doubts. The legs were too short, structure too heavy, DNA inconclusive. He wanted to scream with frustration these crack pot theories weren't going to change the facts. She was dead and even his gut agreed.

When the officer tapped on his office door his heart leapt to his throat his Bones was in trouble but from the look on the officer's face he knew it was much more serious than that. The officer; he can't even remember his name, looked so nervous, like he would take his distress out on him.

"This day is gonna suck" he moaned to himself, tucking in his shirt and tying his Mickey Mouse tie, he tucked his speech into his breast pocket, and left.

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Walking past the pigeon holes, Jack checked his, Zach's, Angela's and out of habit Temperance's. Expecting nothing but junk mail and the Jeffersonian's monthly newsletter, he was a little shocked at the bright yellow envelope addressed to Angela, in his former boss' handwriting. The wording on the back was a little more disturbing. The date was Monday after the fire, sent from Washington. This was getting more intriguing by the day.

When Zach had called him over to show him the report it was like a kick to the guts. He knew that weeks of comforting Ange, were ahead of him. Looking at the body disturbed him. Millions of conspiracies swirled though his mind. Thinking that Brennan, the woman that could beat the snot out of even a tough FBI agent, was dead didn't feel right.

This letter had conspiracy written all over it.

This letter had to get to Angela, so she could unravel the mystery, just that little further. Hearing her voice echoing through the halls he walked a little faster tossing his copy of the newsletter in the bin as he went past.

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Sketching from a skull covered in tissue markers was difficult work, but with 98 accuracy she sure as hell wasn't giving up now. This was her friend and she couldn't let her down.

She stopped, looked at the skull, checked the indicators, glanced at the photo of Brennan on the desk, glared at the sketch and yelled, "Zach."

He poked his head round the door, followed closely by her amore, Jack.

"Sweetie can you check the tissue indicators please, she doesn't look right."

Zach picked up the skull and carefully checked every single indicator, a process taking its time.

Jack walked up and looked at her sketch over her shoulder and gasped as he realized the issue. Angela elbowed him in the ribs, trying to give Zach the silence he needed to concentrate.

"No, they are all right, each one spaced and marked correctly," he glanced at the skull again, though seeing it in a new light, "I know what the problem is. This woman is Hispanic. Dr Brennan wasn't Spanish was she?"

"She may speak Spanish with ease but, no she wasn't." Angela waited for the conformation she needed before she picked up the phone.

"This isn't Dr Brennan."

"Thanks Zach, that's what I needed to hear," She was already listening to the ring, when Jack nudged her arm, and handed her the envelope he was holding.

"Arrived this morning, Brennan's handwriting," he offered as explanation.

Addressed to Angela Montenegro, signed Purple Monkey Dishwasher.

"Uh, Sorry Booth I will ring you back," she muttered distractedly.

"I figured you would know what that means?" Jack asked pointing at the back of the envelope.

"Code for when she didn't want me to disclose her location." Angela's face lit up, "I knew she couldn't be dead."

Thud.

"Jack baby, can you get him off the floor and remind him of that confidentiality agreement he signed?" Angela asked as she took her coffee and the letter to Temperance's office for some quiet reading.

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Angela

Sorry to worry you but I just couldn't stay. This was all I could think of. Like parents, like children hey. I am not coming back. I figure faking my death was all I could do. Its ok she was dead already I didn't kill her. Her name was Thalia. An orphan, reminded me of myself, no friends or family to worry about them. That was until I met you and the team at the Jeffersonian. And Booth, but he walked away from that and I just can't face it.

I still need you to act like it was me in that fire. Don't let people know that the body was a fake. I needed and still need your grief to be real. I will let you know more when I settle.

Thanks for being the one person I can trust.

Purple Monkey Dishwasher.

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When Zach came to, he took a couple of minutes to process what was going on. Jack stood to his side yammering about confidentiality agreements and having to deal with angry woman. Zach wasn't listening.

Dr Brennan was still alive. The thought scared him and relieved him at the same time. Relief, he really did respect her and valued his time with her. She was an excellent teacher and a close friend, but at the same time, he had to compete with her. He though graduating would be his gauntlet. No he had to compete with her every step of he way. Yes she was the best but he couldn't be his best suffering in her shadows.

"I got it. Don't tell anyone she is alive." And he had no intention of doing that either.

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