Chapter Seven: Infinity in the Palm of Your Hand

There's something I need to show you…

Brennan felt like she was on the top of the highest, most dangerous roller coaster in the world, waiting to plummet to the ground, with a front row seat for the entire drop. Wringing her hands, fear gripped her insides. She knew something was wrong, something horrible had happened to Angela. She was torn between telling Booth to turn around and drive her back to the morgue, opting to deal with Dr. Riley and his assistant's antics instead…or discover what Booth was going to show her. Out of best friend obligations, she kept her thoughts to herself, and allowed Booth to continue driving in the same direction.

"You okay?" Booth asked suddenly, as if to cut the heavy quietness in the car.

Brennan nodded. "I'm fine. I was just…I was wondering how you know Angela."

He didn't answer, and Brennan was sure he hadn't heard her. Finally, he answered, "She was a local artist…she had a lot of talent, was going places. I went to some of her shows, and I knew it was only a matter of time before we'd be seeing her stuff on the television, museums, you name it. She was that good. Sometimes she even helped out at the FBI, drawing victims' faces."

Brennan paused for a moment before asking awkwardly, "Can you…can you describe her personality to me. I would like to know if she's still the same Angela."

Booth bit his lower lip. Slowly, he started, "I only met her a few times…but, the impression I got, she was very human. She cared about other people…she lived life and took every moment she had. I guess, some people make life out to be a long journey to death, but Angela was one of the few who looked at it as a thrill ride. She liked to have fun, and she was very outgoing...she was beautiful."

"That's my Angela," Brennan conceded. Booth looked over and saw tears streaming down her face.

"What's wrong?' Booth asked gently, no longer caring about the fact that the woman next to him was frightening at times.

Brennan turned, blue eyes red-rimmed and still crying silently. "You're talking about Angela in the past tense. She's dead, isn't she?"

Booth made a left turn without answering her. He parked shortly after, keeping his eyes on the steering wheel. Brennan looked out the window, and saw the local cemetery.

Things shouldn't have been like this. The sun was too bright. The birds too loud, and the breezes just right. No, this was the moment that should've matched with Brennan's own storms and darkness. Brennan's outside surroundings should have been the exact same as the turmoil warring inside her. Irony could never have been so cruel to her as in the instant her eyes met the lettering on the headstone in front of her feet.

Angela "Pearly Gates" Montenegro

March 4th 1980--January 12th 2007

To see a world in a grain of sand,

And a heaven in a wildflower,

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,

And eternity in an hour.

Booth watched as Brennan sank to her knees, her chest heaving. Her hand shot out, tracing the lettering on the headstone, resting briefly on the carved angels. He heard her murmur as the tears fell freely, "Angela, what happened to you…" She turned towards Booth, looking up at him and shaking her head as if to ask why? Booth shifted uncomfortably as Brennan's stare penetrated to his bones.

"How did this happen?" Brennan forced herself to ask. She wiped her tears, and placed her head against the cold stone.

Softly, Booth explained, "She was Howard Epps' fiancé…and first victim."

Brennan jerked her head up, mortified at this new knowledge.

Continuing, almost apologetically, "Like I said before, you were Epps' second victim…you were their wedding planner--"

"Stop saying that! Haven't I convinced you that I'm not a goddamned wedding planner?" She stood quickly and marched up to Booth. Almost yelling, Brennan declared sharply, "I am Dr. Temperance Brennan! Angela isn't dead, and Epps is! I am Dr. Temperance Brennan! Oh god, how could she be so stupid, Angela was so much smarter than that…how could she love a man like Epps…she was supposed to be with Hodgins…"

"Look, I don't know what you want me to say, but these are the facts: in whatever 'world' you were in while you were comatose does not exist. I'm sorry, but this is reality," Booth tried once again. Brennan shook her head violently in protest.

"No--" she stepped up to Booth and shoved him. He let her. "No! I know bones, and you damn well know it. I know who you are, and I know about your past, how could I make that up? How could that be?"

"I don't know--"

She stormed away from him, furious and fighting another onslaught of tears. He followed her, calling out, "Where are you going?"

"To the car," she answered as she picked up her pace. She stopped suddenly, and this time he was the one who almost collided into her. She stood firmly, but her voice shook with raw emotions. "You don't know what's going on either, so don't you dare try to tell me something you don't believe in yourself."

Booth was left speechless as she turned from him. As an afterthought she added, "That isn't you, Booth. And that's something we both know."