September 2007, 6 Days Later

No. It couldn't be. She knew lately she'd had bad luck. Ok, beyond crappy luck. After she and Booth had fought, her car had broken down, their had been a small fire at the Jeffersonian closing down the lab for 2 weeks, and to top her air conditioning had decided to stop working, so here she was, kneeling on the side of her bathtub, her hair pulled up on top of her head to compensate for the hot September breezes that had filled her apartment even at 10 o'clock at night.

And now this? She blinked hard, checking to see if she was imagining things. Nope, the stupid pink line was staring back at her. The same way it had the first to tests she had taken. It was as if it was taunting her, telling her she could take 40 tests and all of them would come out the same way. Positive.

She couldn't even comprehend what that meant. Positive meant that she was most definitely, completely, and POSITIVELY pregnant. With Booth's baby. That wasn't part of the plan. She hadn't wanted children, but now that she was faced with the choice of letting one go, she couldn't even force the thought into her mind.

This just made everything harder. She held her face in her hands, letting the tears seep out of her eyes, watching as they fell fast onto the blue bath mat underneath her bare toes. She was only wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top since she couldn't go to work, and it was so damn hot in her apartment.

She wiped away her tears, and instinctively she put a hand on her stomach, feeling the little life inside her that she was supporting. It was bittersweet. She should have been happy about being pregnant with Booth's child. If she was going to get pregnant, she would have wanted it to be with Booth. But now he was leaving, and everything had changed.

They hadn't spoken since he left her apartment Friday night, and now it was Thursday nearly a week later. She didn't know where he was. If he was even in DC anymore. She had tried to go to work like normal, but every minute that passed by that he didn't call her, felt even more sickening.

It had been Monday morning when she had broke down in her office sobbing. That hadn't been like her, but she had brushed it off, thinking Booth was the only reason. She already missed him. Like crazy.

But on Tuesday when she didn't get her period for the second month in a row, she had started to get worried. When she was extra stressed, sometimes it didn't come, but not twice in a row.

Then yesterday she had had an overwhelming urge for strawberry milkshakes. Something she had never liked before. Usually she was an extreme chocolate fan, but the urge had been so strong that she had rushed out to the diner to get one.

It only struck her while she was sucking down the last of the thick concoction, that she might be pregnant. Pregnant people were moody, they didn't menstruate, and they had cravings. For odd things.

She had delayed taking a test until today. Blaming work on Wednesday, but when the the fire in the lab had happened early this morning, she had nothing to do. She cleaned, shopped, listened to music, and even watched TV, until she realized it was now or never.

Either she took the tests or waited 9 months to see if she was really pregnant. She had voted on option one, not knowing that it was going to turn out the way it had.

Standing up suddenly, she threw the tests in garbage, wanting to get as far away from them as possible. As she left the bathroom, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her face was pink and tear streaked, her eyes red from crying, her dark hair piled messily around her face. She wanted to throw the mirror across the room for showing her looking so sad. She didn't want to look sad. She wanted to pretend Booth's departure was nothing. That she could brush it off as easily as she had all the other abandonment's, but it wasn't the same. She loved Booth. It was a simple as that. She didn't want to let him go, but there was no choice.

Her next movements were automatic. She walked briskly to her room, pulling out her rattiest converse sneakers that she only wore when she was lazy, slipping her feet into them quickly, she didn't even bother to change out of her tank top and shorts before she grabbed her keys slamming the door behind her.

The drive was quick. For a Thursday night DC was pretty deserted. She knew the college crowd was probably down town clubbing by now, so the roads were empty. The lights blurred by the speed she was driving and the tears she was trying to hold back.

She forgoed the elevator when it took an excruciating 2:00 minutes to open, and jogged the 4 stories up to Booth's apartment.

She knew if she waited to knock on his door, she would panic, and most likely run the 10 miles back to her apartment. So she marched up to the door, took a deep breath and knocked loudly. Even if it was late, and even if he had deserted her, he still deserved to know that she was pregnant with their child.

After a minute of no response she knocked louder, hating the sound that her fist was making resounding off of the deserted hallways. He wasn't answering. Why wasn't he answering? He had to be there, he had said he was leaving on Friday, and it was Thursday.

"Booth! Open up, please! Its me, I have to tell you something!"

No answer, she knocked again. Screaming as loudly as she could, even though she knew people were probably asleep. She didn't care.

"Please open up Booth! Please."

She hit the door as hard as she could, and couldn't stop the tears from falling. She hit the door once more, and pressed leaned against it, her face in her ands sobbing quietly. She didn't know how long she stood there before someone tapped her from behind.

She turned hopefully, hoping that it was him. She was disappointed when a little old lady was standing there instead of her 6 foot tall FBI agent.

Trying in vain to wipe away some of the tears, she smiled weakly.

"Sweetie, are you all right?"

Brennan shook her head, "No… yes. Yes I'm fine."

"Well you're waking up the entire building honey."

"I know I'm really sorry. But do you know the man that lives here? Seeley Booth?"

"Seeley? Of course I know him. Complete sweetheart. He moved out though, yesterday."

Brennan felt like she had been punched swiftly in the stomach. This couldn't be happening. Didn't she deserve some good luck? Some karma for all the murders she had caught?

"Moved out?"

"Yes, he was moving to New York City. Bless his soul."

"Ok thank you. Sorry for waking you up."

Brennan turned to go, when the lady stopped her again. "I don't want to be rude sweetheart, but are you Temperance?"

She was confused. How did this women know her, they had never met before.

"Yes."

"Hold on a second then sweetie."

The women disappeared into her apartment. Brennan saw the lights turn on, and some bustling about, and then she was back. She held out an object, but Brennan couldn't see what it was in the dim light.

"Sweetie, he told me if you ever stopped by, that he wanted you to have this."

She extended her hand, dropping something cool into Brennan's. She held it close to her eyes, but she could already feel that it was a key. The key to Booth's apartment, why would he leave that for her? To traumatize her more seeing his empty apartment?

"Thank you."

"No problem darling, and if you ever see Seeley, tell him Rose says hello."

The old lady, presumably Rose retreated back into her apartment. Closing the door with a soft whoosh.

Brennan held the key in her hand, the feeling of metal nice against her hot skin. She slid it into the door, not ready for what she was going to see. The door opened easily, and she shut her eyes briefly before opening them.

The entire apartment was bare. No furniture, none of Booth's stuff. No nothing. The apartment that had been so warm, welcoming, and filled with memories of him. Of them, was completely barren.

The thought that Booth was really good, that his apartment was empty made every thing seem so much more…real. She slipped off her shoes, padding quietly across the sparse wood floors, running her hand on the walls, trying to make on last grasp at the memories. Cooking dinner for her. Hours of pouring over cases with a six pack of beer. Playing with Parker. It was all gone. He had taken it from her.

She entered into where the bedroom had been, wincing as she pushed the door open. So many days she had woken up in his bed, his arms wrapped carefully around her, the sun casting warm shadows on their entwined bodies.

Now a hot breeze was blowing through the open window, and the room was dark. She clicked on the lights, revealing a small white envelope on the far side of the room. She picked it up, and read the messy scrawl. Bones.

She slid down against the wall, sighing deeply before she ripped open the envelope. An entire page was filled with his fast writing. She shut her eyes, pushing back tears.

Bones,

God, I didn't think this would happen to us. I never would have thought of leaving you. I don't want to be like all the rest of them. The people who leave you, and never come back. It's not like that. It's not like I left you because I wanted to. You know me Bones; I'd do anything for you. And I'd do anything for Parker, and I don't want him to grow up thinking his Daddy doesn't care. I would do anything for you, please remember that. These past few months have been the best of my life. They'll haunt me every second I'm away from you. I'm so sorry Bones. You won't forgive me, but it doesn't mean that I'll forget you.

Brennan couldn't bare it any longer. Her tears fells hard onto the paper that was scrunched in between her fingers, the sobs wracking her body. The ink ran, but she didn't care. He had no right to do this. He was gone, and she was pregnant, and now he would never know.

It wasn't fair to either of them. She didn't want to raise a baby all alone. She didn't know if she could do it. What if she wasn't a good enough mother? She was scared, and she didn't have Booth to save her this time.

She wrapped her arms around herself, the salty tears soaking her bare arms. She cried and cried until she couldn't cry anymore, and she picked herself off the floor, taking one last look at the empty apartment, and closing the door to Booth and everything she never thought she would leave.

Same day, March 2011

"Listen to me," Booth slid his sunglasses down to read the name tag of the young man cowering behind the flight counter. "Owen, its Owen isn't it?"

He shook his head. He looked quite afraid of Booth, and that was exactly what he was going for. After all, he did intimidate people for a living.

"Yes sir, Owen."

"Listen Owen, I need these two tickets today. On this flight. Not in 3 hours, not in 3 days. Now."

"Sir, I'm sorry that I already told you that there is no availability for this flight. We can get you on on a later flight if that is convenient for you."

"Its not convenient Owen, check you little computer thingy," Booth pointed for emphasis, "Or I'll see that you're without a job in 10 minutes."

Booth flashed his badge, and Owens's scared brown eyes widened.

"Hold on sir, let me check again."

Owen busily typed on the keyboard, his face nervous that the irritated FBI agent in front of him might in fact get him fired. Booth was about to speak up again when he felt a tugging on his shirt.

"Daddy, are we getting the flight?"

Booth looked down at his son, but not as far down as he used to have to look. Parker had taken after Booth in his height, and was already 5 feet tall in 4th grade. He was the tallest kid in his class, and Booth was proud of him for it.

"Yeah we are bud, don't worry about it."

"Ok good, you'll still get to sit next to me on the plane, right?"

"Of course Parker, I always do don't I?"

Booth smiled at his son, who flashed him a grin, very similar to his father's. Another thing he had inherited.

"Excuse me sir, but we were able to get you tickets. The next flight into Dulles International Airport."

Booth reached over grabbing the tickets, and patting Owen on the shoulder, who looked quite relieved that he still had his job.

"Thanks Owen."

"No problem sir."

Booth grabbed his bag, and Parker followed quickly behind, carrying a rolling duffel bag with Superman screened on the side.

"Daddy, are you excited to go back home?"

Parker still referred to DC as home. Booth didn't know why, but he was glad that Parker had agreed to go with him. It had been 3 ½ years since they moved to New York. Parker's half sister Molly was already 3, and going to preschool, and Booth had decided that he needed to go home. Home to the DC, to the squints, and most of all to Bones.

Bones. He didn't know if Brennan would even talk to him. They hadn't spoken since that fateful night. God he regretted it. He shouldn't have left so suddenly. He shouldn't have sprung it so fast on her.

Who knows what had changed? Maybe she didn't even work at the Jeffersonian anymore.

Who am I kidding? Bones wouldn't leave that lab if it was burning down around her.

The only thing he knew was that he missed her. Every day he was in New York, he only missed her more. It was like a part of him was gone. The old saying says you don't know what you've got till it's gone. It was so true. He had made such a rash decision, only going with what his gut said, to be with Parker.

But for once he wished he had done what Bones would have done. Been logical, analytical, thought it over. Because as much as he enjoyed being in Parker's life, he had lost a life of his own.

"Dad? Are you even listening to me?"

"Sorry buddy, what were you saying?"

Parker rolled his eyes and sighed at his dad, shaking his blonde curls out of his big brown eyes.

"I was saying that we have to see the Washington memorial, and go to the diner, and go bowling, and we have to visit the squints, and especially Dr. Bones!"

Booth groaned inwardly. Parker was extremely attached to Brennan. How his son had found a way to stay in touch with his ex-girlfriend and ex-partner and he hadn't was tremendously frustrating.

Instead he reached down, ruffling Parker's hair, as the little boy laughed.

"We'll do all that buddy don't worry."

"Good! I'm so excited Daddy!"

"Me too Parker. Me too."

If only Booth knew, how much things had really changed.