Sweets entered Brennan's office with extreme caution. He knew his presence this early in the morning was unnecessary, and unappreciated. But that fact remained that Brennan was the most logical choice to receive advice from. She would accept doctor—patient confidentiality and not try to read between the lines; he hoped.

'What do you need Sweets?' She asked curtly, eyes not leaving her computer monitor, hands not even hesitating as they flew across the keyboard. 'You do know we have an appointment later—'

'I need your advice.' He blurted out, slipping into one of the chairs in front of her. 'I'm in a really big, ethical bind.'

Brennan looked up, obviously surprised. 'Alright…what is it?'

'I have this patient, who's locked up, but shouldn't be because he didn't actually do the thing that got him locked up in the first place. But in order to get him out, I need to get together an appeal, and even if we cleared him of the main charge, there are others that he doesn't want to go to prison for. I want to help him so badly, but I'm not sure if I should.'

This outpouring of information seemed to neither startle, nor confuse Brennan. Of course, she had listened to days worth of Zack's fast, monotone voice. She was absolutely used to it.

'My suggestion,' She said after a moment. 'Is to explore the pros and cons of each possibility, and then use your judgement. If you decide to appeal, make sure you get the best darn lawyer you can afford to help you. Don't try anything alone Sweets. You have a history of screwing up.'

Nodding in agreement, Sweets rose from his seat.

'One question though; did your patient ever see trial for all this?'

'We declared him non compos mentis'

Leaving Brennan's office, Sweets knew he'd figured out only that he had a lot of work to do to make this decision. Maybe it would be nice to go home, away from other distractions, and away from Kat's disapproving glares. She drove him absolutely distracted as it was, add on actually taking notice of him…

Booth was hovering, and Hodgins didn't like it. He wasn't even processing anything from case — just regular Jeffersonian duties. In fact, Mr. FBI hadn't brought them a case in a very long time…

'Hodge, is it just me, or is something weird going on around the lab?'

That was all that was bugging him? 'Yeah. The girls are all hovering around Kat, clucking over her like a bunch of hens. They actually believe she needs to be distracted from everything that's going on with Zack.'

'Poor kid—' Booth began, but Hodgins cut him off.

'She's twenty seven years old, for God's sake! And she doesn't need anyone's pity—Kat's strong enough on her own. She found out where Zack was from a friend, two months before she could even come back! Not to mention that she visits him every week—'

'Jack—' Booth cautioned. He could see that the shorter man was getting worked up, and didn't need him blowing a gasket, or even having a heart attack.

'So maybe Kat's a little depressed— we all are! And all their smothering is just going to drive her crazy. I won't be surprised if she tells them to fuck off—'

'This angry at the world shit is really getting out of hand.'

'That's the thing though,' Hodgins continued. 'I'm pissed off at just about everyone—except Kat. I can't be angry at Kat, even though she's replacing my best friend at work. Sweets is wrong.'

'So why are you pissed?' Booth asked, and Hodgins knew it was time to say what had been festering in his mind for months.

'Because I still believe Zack didn't kill that guy, but you all do!' He shouted. 'He's never had the required strength to subdue and stab a man of that size. Plus he never said where, or how, or any of the details a killer—the killer—would know. But you believed him. Never questioned the idea, just accepted that he could and did kill in cold blood. Maybe that shows what crap friends you are; that a woman who hadn't seen him in five years refuses to believe Zack is a murderer, while the people closest to him do.'

Booth was speechless. Hodgins not only had a point, but all the reason in the world to be angry at them; to hate them. They had thrown his best friend to rot in a mental facility, on no physical evidence, and a rather shoddy confession. It was an unforgivable act in his eyes. And even now, he could see the naked disgust on his face, as Hodgins walked away from the silent FBI agent.

'Hey Sweetie, how are you doing?'

Kat was getting irritated by now. Nearly every time she got working quietly, alone, someone came and interrupted the peace. Did they think she was going to fall apart if they left her by herself for even a moment?

'Angela, so much as I know everyone is trying to cheer me up—except Hodgins—it's very smothering. So everyone can know that I don't want to go clubbing, or to catch a movie, or even go see the opera. All I really need is to relax in the evenings, do a bit of paperwork, and go visit Zack on the weekend.'

The message seemed to have finally gotten through. 'I'm sorry Sweetie. I just thought that you might want a little distraction from everything going on with Zack.'

Kat gave her a strangely tight smile. 'But I'm always thinking of Zack—of when he and I were in University together. I almost need to think of those times, because they make it easier to be hopeful when I visit.'

'You visit Zack a lot.'

Kat picked up a rib bone, hoping Angela wouldn't see the tears that were building in her eyes. 'I go every week. Mostly so I can piece together some of this shit. I want to know, in case we begin to form an appeal for Zack.'

'I hope we do someday.' Angela said quietly. 'It broke my heart to let the lock him up.'

'Angela, do you believe Zack is a murderer?'

Her question seemed to hit Angela like a slap to the face. Maybe it was the force of which the question was asked. Angela was shocked into silence for a moment.

'I…I don't know.'

'In you heart for hearts,' Kat pressed. 'Do you believe that Zack Addy could ever physically harm another human being?'

'No.' Angela replied, as sure in her answer as if she'd agreed the sun was bright. 'Zack couldn't do it.'

Kat nodded, smiling wanly. 'I knew you didn't think it was true. Nobody does, really. They just haven't dared to find the truth within themselves. Now, we just need to figure out how to convince twelve strangers of the same thing. The only reason I was so sure, is that no one knows Zack the way I do.'

Brennan was unsure whether she should say anything to Booth or not. She'd deduced that Zack was the patient Sweets was so concerned about. And is she was right, that meant that Zack was innocent after all—at least on the count of murder.

Now she was sitting in the diner with Booth, picking at an early dinner she had no stomach for. 'You not hungry Bones?'

'I guess not so much as I thought.' She replied quietly, feeling like it was a lie. She didn't like lying to Booth.

'I was talking to Hodgins,' Booth said suddenly. 'And he said something that's bugging me. He thinks that Zack might've faked his confession—that he might be lying.'

How ironic, Brennan thought, that Hodgins had told Booth what she herself had been thinking all day. This saved her a lot of explaining, but there was still the question of what to do. What was the right thing to do?

'Booth, if you find out that what Hodgins says is the truth; you'll have to re-arrest Zack, won't you.'

He nodded solemnly. 'So it's up to you guys to investigate this one without me, if you plan on it. You can't tell me anything. But hey; you have Zack right there in McKinley, and you can count on him staying there—we've instructed him not to break out again.'

'I just want him back with us…' She trailed off, trying hard to keep from crying. The only thing worse than lying to Booth, was crying in front of Booth. She hated crying. But Booth reached over and took both her hands in his.

'Bones, it's alright to cry this time. You deserve to cry as much as anyone else, because you have a reason to cry.'

And so she did. She let a few tears escape her eyes, and they began two trickling streams down her face, and then she began to sob. She was crying for Zack, and the team, and Kat, and even herself. She was crying for Ian's death, her father's trial, and Booth's fake funeral. She was crying for all the people whose remains had passed before her eyes over what felt like a hundred years. And the only thing keeping Temperance Brennan grounded was the warm, steady pressure of Booth's hands in hers.