Author's Note: Whoa! Great response guys…I'm so thrilled you're liking the premise so far. Your reviews were awesome, and got me even more excited about posting the story. As a thank you for the great first response, I'm posting a little earlier than I intended (so keep up the awesome feedback…shameless hint).

Chapter Two

Faithful friends who are dear to us...

It was mark of Brennan's utter confusion that she barely protested as she followed Albert to an apartment building in a somewhat dingy part of town.

There wasn't even a doorman at the building, and they walked right in, jingling the chain of Christmas bells hung on the door as they did.

Unexpectedly, Albert's eyes lit up. "Somebody made it," he commented happily.

"Made what?" Brennan asked distractedly, glad for the warmth of the stairwell they were now standing in. She raked her hands through her hair, which was wet and flecked with ice.

"Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings," he informed her with great authority. "I haven't earned mine, yet, as you can see..but if I help you, the big guy says I'll get them."

"Of course," Brennan muttered dully, too exhausted and confused to even bother fighting that ridiculous point. "Why are we here?"

"I told you, we're going to see Angela."

Brennan laughed once, humorlessly, eyeing the stripped, splintered wood of the stairs, and the flickering, naked light bulb hanging from the ceiling. "Angela and Hodgins don't live here."

Albert started up the stairs, throwing a glance at her over his shoulder. "I never said they did. I said Angela did."

Brennan's brow furrowed, but she said nothing as Albert turned down a hallway and headed to an apartment door.

Pulling up short, Brennan again insisted, "Angela does not live here."

Albert arched an eyebrow at her, then said simply, "She does in the world where you don't exist."

Before Brennan could question this, Albert was reaching out and opening the door.

In front of them was what looked like a one room apartment. Art supplies and stacked canvases took up most of the space, along with a mattress, laid out on the floor, and some combination kitchen appliances in the area where carpet turned to tile.

Angela was sitting on the floor in the center of the room, her sketchbook balanced on her knees. A small, artificial Christmas tree was lit up in the corner.

Though it was hard to tell at first glance, the way she was sitting, Angela definitely didn't appear to be pregnant.

"Angela?" Brennan pushed past Albert into the room, confused why Angela hadn't looked up at their entrance. "Ange, why are you here?"

Still Angela didn't lift her eyes from the sketchpad in front of her.

Frustrated, Brennan knelt next to Angela on the floor. "Angela, look at me."

"She can't hear you," Albert called from the doorway. "You don't exist, remember?"

"Angela!" Brennan yelled, ignoring him, even though she knew, rationally, that if Angela wasn't noticing her now, increasing volume wouldn't make much difference.

Brennan felt a hand on her back. Albert was looking down at her. "I tried to tell you."

"No, I…I'm her best friend, she isn't…" Brennan stared hard at Angela, unable to comprehend the undeniable fact that her best friend didn't seem to see her.

Brennan stood abruptly. "Why is she here? I…I don't understand."

"She didn't have you around to give her a job. Doing caricatures in the park didn't pay the bills for very long."

As if on cue, the apartment was suddenly plunged into darkness.

"Son of bitch…" Angela's frustrated voice cut through the blackness, and there was a sudden shuffling.

Albert grabbed Brennan's arm, pulling her after him as they followed Angela out the door and down the stairs.

When they caught up, Angela was pounding on the door of another apartment, and suddenly the door swung open to reveal a tall man, leering down at Angela.

The artist glared up at him. "Really, Joe? You shut off my power on Christmas Eve?"

He smirked. "Got your attention, didn't it?" Angela rolled her eyes, and Joe continued, "I need the rent, sweetheart. I let you slide last month. No more."

Sighing, Angela gave him a pleading look. "If you could just give me a couple more days…"

"It's already been a couple more days." Suddenly, Joe's face changed, something lustful flashing in his eyes. "Of course, you know…we could always arrange something." He twirled his fingers in her hair, and Angela tensed noticeably.

Eyes narrowing, Brennan took a step toward them, practically snarling. "Get your hands off her-"

Neither of them glanced at her, and Albert took hold of her arm, muttering, "Won't do any good…"

Angela scowled at her landlord, disgust evident in her expression. "Go to hell, Joey."

"Hey, it's not like we haven't before, right, gorgeous? And if you want to keep living here…"

Slowly, Angela closed her eyes, her face tightening. Then, barely audible, she said, "Fine."

Joey laughed. "Excellent."

Brennan hurried forward. "Ange, wait, you don't have to-"

The door slammed in her face as the two of them disappeared into the apartment.

Angrily, Brennan began to pound the door. "Angela!"

"She can't hear you," Albert, suddenly close, reminded her. "Come on, we should keep going…"

Shaking her head, Brennan rejected this information. "No, she…what about Hodgins? She, she married Hodgins and he's…he's got plenty of money."

"She and Hodgins never met," Albert explained softly.

"Yes, they did," Brennan insisted. "They….they're having a baby, they got married of course they met."

"Not in this world. They never worked together, so…" Albert paused, considering, then began muttering to himself. "Actually, that's not a bad next stop. Yes, that could be…it's harsh, but most everything is…"

Still distracted, Brennan muttered, "What's harsh?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I think we should go see Hodgins now." Brennan was still staring at the closed door after Angela. Albert gently tugged on her arm. "C'mon, let's go…"

~(B*B)~

They stepped outside the apartment and were suddenly across the street from a cemetery Brennan frowned. "I didn't notice this before." She cast a glance back at the apartment, only to find the door she'd just emerged from, and the entire apartment building gone. "What…?"

"I thought we should cut down on our travel time," Albert answered absently. "Let's go."

Brennan didn't move. "Where are we going?"

Albert turned, nodding his hat across the street to the cemetery. "Over there."

She was already shaking her head, still not making a move to follow him. "You, you said we were going to see Hodgins."

Giving her a sympathetic look, Albert continued slowly across the road. "Just follow me, doc."

Trepidation rising, Brennan followed Albert across the road and into the cemetery. The freezing rain from earlier had stopped, a light, sporadic snow falling in its place.

Brennan shoved her hands in her pockets and stayed quiet as they walked through the still, silent graveyard. After awhile, Albert moved off the main path, heading toward a grave, the icy grass crunching under his feet.

They stopped soon, and Brennan set her jaw, meeting the old man's eyes. "I don't understand why we're here."

"I told you," he said softly. "We're here to see Dr. Hodgins." Then, Albert nodded at the headstone in front of them.

"Jack Stanley Hodgins" was engraved on the stone, and for a second Brennan felt her knees buckle beneath her. She shuffled a few steps back, eyes fixed on the grave.

"No. No. Wha…what is this, did you…" The pitch of her voice heightened, and Brennan wrapped her arms around herself, trembling. She pinned Albert with an accusatory glare. "…did you have this made?"

"No, Dr. Brennan-"

"I saw Hodgins hours ago, tonight and this…this says he died over four years ago, it's…it's wrong."

"In this world," Albert explained patiently. "It isn't."

Brennan continued moving away from him, her hands out in front of her in a useless gesture of protection. "Who…who are you? Why are you doing this to me?"

His eyes bright with concern, Albert took a tentative step toward Brennan. Her eyes widened, and she stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over a different grave in her attempt to escape him.

"Don't…I don't know what you gave me or….or if I hit my head when the car crashed…but none of this makes sense, it isn't..it isn't possible…Hodgins is not dead."

Albert reached for her, but she was already moving, running out of the cemetery back into the street.

Breathing hard, Brennan paced around the road, raking her trembling hands through her hair, feeling for any indication of a head injury. She had no idea where she was, and she had no phone or money or car…

Still, she couldn't stay there.

Brennan had walked a good thirty feet down the street when suddenly Albert stepped in front of her.

"Get away from me," Brennan hissed, adopting a defensive stance in spite of the fact that she was shaking.

"I'm sorry I didn't warn you," Albert said quietly. "But in this world, where you don't exist….Hodgins was killed by the Gravedigger."

"No, that…your logic is flawed. If Hodgins wasn't working for me, he wouldn't have been working on the case."

"Actually, Hodgins was mostly just a lab rat, but the FBI called him in to consult on occasional cases, like the Gravedigger one that had so much dirt related evidence." Albert paused, waiting until Brennan slowly relaxed her fighting stance, her face twisting as she did. "When the gravedigger ran him down, there was no one to save him."

Brennan's eyes stung, and she stared at the ground, thinking of Angela, alone in a dark apartment, and Hodgins, bleeding out in that car…

"I don't understand this," she said softly.

"I know," Albert said sympathetically. "We'll do an easier one now, okay? We can go see Cam."

A/N: So this was a lot shorter, and the next two chapters are like that, too. As those of you familiar with the movie are aware, Brennan's non existence is a little different...it worked better for this narrative for Brennan to be able to observe people without them seeing her, as opposed to just not knowing who she is. Let's see the more personal stuff about their lives.

Please let me know what you think! An update will be posted very soon. (Also, points for you if you get the musical reference).