Hope everyone had a good holiday! Hope you enjoy this one! :)

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Chapter 13

While Booth went to the cemetery with Hodgins to check out the Gormogon mausoleum, Brennan decided to stop at the hospital on her way home. Dr. Goetz had cleared Hayley for visitors, and Brennan was hoping to catch her before she went to sleep for the night. Booth hadn't liked the idea of her going anywhere alone, but he compromised by having an agent tail her to the hospital and then home. When she entered the room, Hayley's eyes were closed, and Brennan's attention was drawn to Amy. She was sitting next to the hospital bed with her hands folded as if in prayer, her eyes locked on her daughter's face.

"Hi," Amy said quietly, hearing Brennan's quiet knock.

"Hi. How's Hayley doing?"

"Dr. Goetz is a godsend. I don't know how to thank you," she replied fervently. Hayley opened her eyes at the sound of their voices and looked around the room.

"Hi, Aunt Tempe," Hayley said softly. Brennan smiled, pleased that Russ's stepdaughters still thought of her as their aunt, even though they'd only spent a little time together. Amy and the girls had been at the wedding, but prior to that, they hadn't seen Brennan since they first met her and Booth during their trip to North Carolina the previous year.

"Hi, Hayley."

"Can you call Russ and tell him to come home?" she pled.

"It's...complicated." Brennan winced sympathetically and glanced at Amy in silent appeal. She quickly deflected her daughter's question by encouraging her to eat a little and then gestured for Brennan to step into the hallway for a moment. They left the door open and spoke in low tones.

"I tried to get into the jail to see your father, but they wouldn't let me in. They said I'm not a relative."

"Amy, Russ is a fugitive," she warned her. "The minute he comes back to DC, they'll toss him in jail."

"Well, how would anyone know?"

"I work with the FBI."

"You don't have to be in on this," Amy insisted. "All you have to do is ask your father to get a message to Russ." Brennan shifted uncomfortably, and Amy frowned. "You look my baby in the face and tell her she can't see her father because you're mad at yours."

"I'll do what I can," she promised, casting one last look at Hayley before she left. The little girl was sleeping again, and Brennan decided to check in on her the following day.

By the time Booth arrived home from his cemetery expedition, Brennan was getting ready for bed. She was smoothing her hand lotion over her palms when he appeared in the bedroom doorway, and he smiled in gratitude that she'd made it home safely. He knew that a lot of people might think he was being overprotective, but after everything they'd been through, he just couldn't see it that way.

"So you found another skeleton?" Brennan asked eagerly. The only reason she hadn't gone straight to the cemetery from the hospital was because they'd already removed the evidence when she'd received Booth's text. He had convinced her to just go home and worry about it tomorrow, but he knew she was clamoring for a firsthand look.

"Yup. No silver this time," Booth sighed, easing his aching feet out of his shoes. "Wonder how many victims' bones were used to build it."

"I should be able to tell you that fairly quickly tomorrow."

"I know. That is, if Zack doesn't beat you to it. I don't think that kid ever leaves the lab anymore." He shook his head in disapproval, but Brennan shrugged it off.

"I was the same way, Booth. He's just dedicated." Booth made a noncommittal sound and moved into the bathroom to perform his nighttime rituals.

"How was Hayley?" he called through the open door.

"Mostly asleep. She asked for Russ… Amy thinks I don't want to pass along the message because it means talking to Max, and she could tell I was conflicted about it."

"You've been out there to see him before. What's different this time?" Booth asked, though he thought he knew. Since her last visit, they had finished looking into foster parents. All that was left now was to deal with the results, or rather the lack of them. They now had even more reason to suspect Max's involvement and still no proof of anything. Booth had offered to keep digging, but Brennan seemed torn on the best course of action.

"I'll go, I just… It's hard to sit there and talk to him and not… You know."

"You want to just come out and ask him about your foster parents," he guessed, walking back into the bedroom.

"I know that I can't. And even if I did, he'd never tell me the truth. I just can't help but wonder if that's the way it will always be with him. Lies and secrets…"

Booth sighed and climbed into bed next to her. He wished he had answers for her, but even if he were to make educated predictions, he knew it wouldn't be what she wanted to hear. Her stress levels were still making it difficult for her to function well, and he wanted nothing more than to make it all go away. Brennan curled up against his chest, enjoying the feel of his arms around her as much as he enjoyed holding her.

"You should go see him tomorrow morning," he encouraged. "Give him the message, and then Russ can decide for himself." Brennan yawned and nodded in agreement, concluding that if Russ did somehow end up back in jail, at least he would finally be dealing with the consequences of his actions.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

As Booth had predicted, Zack had already made substantial progress on the new skeleton when Brennan called for an update the next morning. She had decided to get her prison visit out of the way first, since she knew that Zack could handle things in her absence. He reported that he had identified bones from eighteen different victims thus far, and each one bore evidence of cannibalism. Unfortunately, the gnaw marks didn't match those they had found previously in the case, which indicated that there was another cannibal at large. This one, however, was most likely in his seventies, judging by the age of the oldest bones.

Hodgins took over the call for a moment, announcing that he had identified particulates from Father Cooper's chest wound as sepiolite. The mineral along with the violet jade gemstone were only found in a certain part of Turkey known as the Anatolia region, which was reputed to be the site of the Garden of Eden. Hodgins also found a jar of the same mineral inside the vault.

Brennan thanked them both and ended the call just as Booth was pulling into the parking lot at the prison. He still insisted that she not go anywhere on her own, but he agreed to wait near the gate while she spoke to Max.

"There's my girl," Max greeted her with his usual award-winning smile. Brennan smiled a little awkwardly and took a seat across from him. "I'm glad you came. While I was waiting, I was thinking about all the places I've been that are worse than prison… El Salvador, for example, and that two weeks I spent in a shipping container…"

"I didn't care much for El Salvador either," Brennan muttered.

"Oh yeah? What happened?" Max's brows were raised in hopeful curiosity, but Brennan couldn't bring herself to elaborate.

"That's a story for another time," she dodged, watching her father's face fall slightly in disappointment. "I remember you hated Disney World."

"I thought I was always able to keep that from you kids," Max replied, his smile back in place. Brennan laughed along with him.

"No… I was six; Russ was ten. It was pouring rain. Mickey sneezed so hard his head popped off," she snickered.

"I think I like prison better." They shared another laugh, but Brennan's mirth faded as she recalled the purpose of her visit.

"Dad, I'm here about Russ."

"Well, he's fine. You don't have to worry about Russ," he assured her.

"The woman he lived with and the kids he was raising… They need him."

"Russ sends Amy and the girls money every month."

"Hayley's sick. Really sick. She's asking for him," Brennan said, wondering how Max knew that Russ was sending money home. "Just tell Russ. Let him make up his own mind about what to do."

"If he comes back to DC, Russ is going to end up in here with me. He won't do that. He's scared to death of jail."

"He'll come if you ask him too." She had unwittingly risen to her feet at some point and suddenly found herself leaning over the table toward him. His expression softened as he looked at her.

"You look more like your mother every day," he said wistfully. Brennan stood up, needing to put a little distance between them. It wasn't that she didn't like hearing those things, but when he spoke to her that way, she could see Matthew Brennan in his eyes. She saw the father she'd known and loved for so many years, and she missed that man so much that an unexpected encounter with him was gut-wrenching.

"I need to go," she said stiffly. Brennan met his eyes apologetically, and he nodded in sad acceptance. He encouraged her to come back soon, but as always, she made no such promise.

"How'd it go?" Booth asked as they fastened their seatbelts a few minutes later.

"I gave him the message," she shrugged. "Whether he delivers it or what Russ does about it is out of my hands."

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Angela called Booth, Brennan, and Hodgins into her office as soon as the partners arrived at the lab. She had pulled a tapestry out of the vault and hung it in her office. It was odd looking, consisting of a number of small patches on a larger surface. Some looked like seals or symbols, while others looked remarkably like tarot cards. Angela pointed out the seal that had been on the linen wrapped around Father Cooper's patellae, and she rattled off the names of the tarot cards.

"The Architect, the Martyr, the Orator, the Musician, the Bishop, the Corruptor-"

"Whoa," Booth interrupted, standing up from his chair. "That's it. Gavin Nichols was the Musician."

"Father Cooper was a bishop," Hodgins said, comprehension dawning on his face.

"He's doing it in order," Brennan surmised.

"What's next?" Booth pressed.

"The Corrupter," Angela replied, pointing to the corresponding image. Hodgins snorted a little.

"So let's call up every porn kingpin and drug dealer in the country," he grinned. "Tell them to look out for a lunatic with a napkin in his collar, holding a knife and fork."

"Dude, you're being way too literal," Sweets interjected, standing in Angela's doorway. He walked into the room as he continued, "These icons extend from the sixteen hundreds. A 'corruptor' would mean a heretic. Like… a pretender to the throne. I'm totally into the Gormogon file, and in my opinion, you're looking for a duo."

"How did you get the file?" Brennan demanded. Sweets pointed at Booth, and she turned to him in alarm. "You gave him the casefile?"

"He came up with the whole duo thing," Booth replied defensively, shrinking a little under her stern gaze. Pissing off the wife this early in the morning is never a good thing, he thought.

Brennan admitted reluctantly that they had found another skeleton with gnaw marks that indicated there were two cannibals. Sweets practically beamed with pride at being right. He went on to clarify that it was most likely a master-apprentice type of situation wherein each master must complete a skeleton while training an apprentice. Once the skeleton is completed, the master retires, and the apprentice starts his own project.

They each took turns adding their own postulations, concluding that the apprentice who had helped with the older skeleton was now the master. Jason Harkness had been an apprentice, but he had killed himself rather than expose the master. Sweets also suggested that one or both masters probably had access to 'at risk' children, and Brennan felt her resistance to the 'guesswork' of profiling beginning to weaken slightly.

"Well… anything else?" she asked as Booth stepped away to take a phone call.

"Yeah," Sweets nodded, looking back to an image of the silver skeleton on Angela's monitor. "It must be killing him that you have this. This is basically his whole reason for living. You might be able to find some way to use that."

"Wait till you hear this," Booth interrupted, snapping his phone shut. "Father Cooper took a trip to Turkey last year, to that same region you were talking about, Bug Boy. And Gavin Nichols was on the same trip."

"The Bishop and the Musician," Angela surmised.

"What about a corruptor?" Brennan inquired.

"The trip was arranged by a lobbyist. Is that too literal?" Booth asked, looking at Sweets. The psychologist agreed that a lobbyist would fit the role perfectly. Booth gestured for Brennan to follow him from the room, his fingertips touching her lower back as they walked to her office.

"You're not really mad I gave him the file, are you? This is a big case. We need all the help we can get."

"I just don't trust his methods, Booth. It is a big case, and if we follow the wrong lead, we'll be wasting time and resources."

"So you don't want to come with me to talk to the lobbyist? He's supposedly on his way to my office."

"I'll come, but… We're questioning him because he has connections to two of the victims, not because Dr. Sweets says we should," she replied stubbornly. Booth grinned and helped her into her coat.

"The guy's also a member of the Knights of Columbus," he added, trying not to gloat. "A secret society." She narrowed her eyes, and he worked to contain his amusement. Booth preferred evidence to psychological profiling as well when it came to investigations, but teasing her would always be one of his favorite forms of entertainment.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Ray Porter sat in Booth's office with an incredulous expression as they explained their reasons for believing his life might be in danger. He openly acknowledged his membership with the Knights of Columbus as well as the fact that he had lost his father at age six. Unfortunately, Brennan then let the word 'corruptor' slip, and Porter immediately took offense. He accused them of telling wild stories about cannibals as a means of intimidation, and he assumed that he must be a target in an investigation of influence peddling. Porter stormed from the room, and Brennan turned to Booth in confusion.

"Okay, Bones. You didn't have to call him corrupt," he said quietly.

"Why?"

"Because obviously he is."

Brennan's next words were interrupted by Agent Burns, who knocked on the door to inform Booth that he had a visitor. Booth and Brennan were equally surprised when Russ stepped into the room.

"Where's Hayley?" he asked, his expression full of worry.

"Russ… You came to the FBI," Brennan said, stating the obvious in alarm.

"Yeah, that was the deal."

Booth and Brennan glanced at each other, utterly perplexed. Booth sighed and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. Just once I would like someone else to arrest her family members, he grumbled inwardly. He took a deep breath and walked toward his brother-in-law.

"Russ Brennan, you're under arrest-"

"You lied?!" Russ shouted at his sister. "You told Dad that Booth wouldn't arrest me."

"No! I never said that!"

"I should have known better than to trust anyone in this family."

"Russ, I swear…" She wasn't sure how the message had gotten twisted, but his words cut her deeply. After everything that had happened, he was implying that she couldn't be trusted. Shouldn't that be the other way around? she thought angrily.

"I wanna see my stepdaughter," Russ insisted. Brennan's eyes shifted to her husband, pleading silently. Booth deliberated for a moment before making a decision.

"We'll go for a quick visit," he told Russ quietly. "But the cuffs stay on till we get there. After that, I have to take you in. I don't have a choice." Russ clenched his jaw but nodded stiffly, and Brennan released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

Amy and Hayley were overjoyed to see Russ, and Brennan was pleased to see a brilliant smile on the little girl's face. She and Booth stood in the doorway, watching the reunion.

"Thank you, Booth," she whispered. He looked down at her and gave a reluctant smile.

"As far as the bureau is concerned, I caught him here fifteen minutes from now." He glanced back at Russ and his family, only turning back to his wife when he felt her lips against his cheek.

"I love you, Booth," she said fervently. He brought his fingertips to her chin and tipped it upward to press his lips to hers.

"I love you too."

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Once Russ was turned over for booking and processing, Brennan asked Booth if he would mind another quick stop at the prison. She didn't understand what had made her father think that Russ would be able to stroll into the Hoover without being arrested. Her brother had actually been lucky to have made it past security.

"You told Russ that I said Booth wouldn't arrest him," Brennan said, her tone accusatory. Neither of them sat this time. She'd come to chastise him and then get back to her day.

"Look, I couldn't turn him over to you. That would just put you in a quandary with your husband. I did it this way for you."

"Dad!" Is he serious?

"What? Booth arrested him?" Max asked, irritated and incredulous.

"Of course he did. You sent Russ to his office; he didn't have any choice." Her defense was interrupted by a call from Zack, and she pulled the phone out of her pocket. "Brennan."

"Dr. Brennan, I found something in the Gormogon vault that I think you should see," he said excitedly. Brennan's response was interrupted yet again, this time by her father.

"Why are you being such a hard ass on my kid, Booth?" he shouted from several feet away, hoping to be heard on the other end of the call. Brennan rolled her eyes as Zack asked who was speaking. She covered the lower half of her cell and turned back to Max.

"It's not Booth. You know, it's bad enough that nobody can trust you, but now you're making it so Russ and I can't trust each other either." She angrily recalled that it had been Max who had convinced Russ to disappear last Christmas, effectively shattering whatever trust she'd just begun to build with her brother, and now he'd done it in reverse. Max winced apologetically.

"He came back. He hugged his little girl," he reminded her. Brennan headed toward the door, but his next words stopped her. "I'm here for you...and a lot of dads aren't."

I'm here for you. The words echoed in her mind, bringing back all of the heartache and loss of the past sixteen years. He'd left to keep her safe. He'd killed to keep her safe. ...And he'd come back hoping to make her happy. Brennan sighed and crossed the room, her eyes reading the sorrow in his features. He looked as though he might break into tears at any moment, and she felt her own eyes filling as well.

"That's true, Dad." She leaned over to kiss his cheek, the first physical show of affection she'd initiated since the day he handcuffed her to a park bench. Brennan clasped his hand briefly, and Max gave her a watery smile. As she left, she glanced back to see him looking down at his hands as though he could somehow see the lingering effects of her unexpected touch.

In that moment, Brennan made the decision to double her efforts at making peace with the past. She knew that it wouldn't be easy, but she was determined. She wanted her father back.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Booth and Brennan found Zack in the vault with the lights off. He handed them each a pair of night-vision goggles and explained that he had noticed an abundance of mirrors in the vault. After taking note of each mirror's placement, he realized that they'd been arranged for a purpose. He pointed a red laser light into the darkness, and the partners were surprised to see it bounce nearly a dozen times through the vault. It ended at a carving of The All-Seeing Eye, and Zack explained that someone would be able to see all areas of the vault from that vantage point. Gormogon had been watching them the whole time.

Booth ordered a group of techs to run a sensor sweep, and they discovered that the sculpture was broadcasting a signal for both audio and video. It was configured to be activated by white light, so they were fairly certain that Zack's laser hadn't triggered it.

"What do we do?" Brennan asked quietly, her eyes darting around the expansive space of the Jeffersonian basement. The reconstructed vault took up a good portion of it.

"Exactly what Sweets said; use it against Gormogon."

"How?"

"No idea."

"What if…" she trailed off for a moment, thinking quickly. "What if we fooled him into thinking that we're transporting the sculpture? He might try to grab it."

"That's a great idea," he agreed, impressed. "But to really sell it, you're going to have to put Father Cooper's kneecaps in the silver skeleton." She made a noise of protest, but couldn't come up with a legitimate argument. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew he was right.

The partners went back up to the lab to retrieve the patellae, and they came up with a fake conversation about transporting the sculpture to Bethesda under the pretense of utilizing advanced medical technology to find out if anything had been hidden within the bones. Brennan overplayed her role slightly as she inserted the bones into the sculpture, and Booth was visited by the urge to smack his palm into his forehead. He only hoped that Gormogon would believe the ruse in spite of her poor acting.

A couple of agents drove an empty delivery truck from the Jeffersonian toward Bethesda, and Booth decided to follow behind in a taxi. Brennan bickered about the advisability of sitting in the front seat, since passengers generally chose to sit in back. Before Booth could give much of a response, a motorcycle pulled up next to Booth's side of the car, revving its engine deliberately.

The driver's face was concealed by a helmet, and he wore an ordinary black backpack. He looked directly at Booth then sped forward to pull ahead of the taxi. The delivery truck turned a corner, and the motorcycle followed closely behind, disappearing from Booth's sight just long enough for the driver to drop his backpack in the middle of the road. Both partners spotted the bag, and Booth hit the brakes instinctively, stopping just short of the backpack.

"Get down!" he shouted at her, throwing the car into reverse. Brennan had barely begun to take cover when the backpack exploded in the street. The impact of the bomb flipped the taxi completely upside down, shattering windows and bending metal until it finally came to rest on its wheels once more.

Booth groaned, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain in his head. He could already tell that he was bleeding from a wound on his forehead. His body protested any movement, but when he turned to look at his wife, he immediately sprung into action.

"Bones," he called, repeating her name several times as he attempted to kick her door open from the inside. She was unconscious, but she began to stir at the sound of his voice. "Don't move," he commanded as he hauled himself out of the driver's side window. Booth winced as he fell backward to the concrete and got to his feet, circling around the taxi so that he could help her. Brennan was still dazed when he reached her, but she managed to follow his instruction to put her arm around his shoulder so that he could pull her through the open window. He wrapped his arms around her torso, securing her body to his own as he half-carried her to the nearby sidewalk.

"I'm fine… I'm okay," she said weakly, clinging to his shoulders. He nearly rolled his eyes at her assurance, and as soon as they collapsed onto the concrete, he was taking stock of her injuries. She was bleeding profusely from a gash on her forehead, and her clothing was spattered with blood. He looked up to see a uniformed agent running toward them.

"Who's got the motorcycle?" Booth asked him, back on his feet in an instant.

"Nobody. We lost the follow car."

"Damn it," he cursed, kicking a chunk of rubble away from him. "Wait, what about the truck?"

"It's fine."

"Wait…" Booth grunted through another surge of pain in his head. "He knew the truck was a decoy. He wasn't trying to get the skeleton back; he was trying to kill us."

"Booth," Brennan groaned. He looked back to see her examining a wound on her upper left arm. Blood was saturating the sleeve of her jacket at an alarming rate, and when he stepped closer to get a better look, he spotted some sort of shrapnel in the wound.

"Alright, easy. I've got it," he insisted, stopping her from pulling the object out herself. She whimpered a little as he removed…

"It's a human tooth," Brennan announced, studying it closely. "He put human teeth in his bomb for shrapnel."

"Bones, he tried to kill us because… We know his next target. The corruptor. That lobbyist." An ambulance pulled up next to them as he spoke, and he ordered the EMTs to take care of her. Booth took off running toward a nearby FBI SUV, intending to commandeer it from the agent who had spoken with him earlier.

"Wait, I want to come!" Brennan shouted.

"Stay right there!" he yelled back, still running.

Brennan watched her husband drive off in an SUV identical to his own and tried to wave off the concerned paramedics. They got her patched up reasonably well, but they insisted that her head wound required stitches. She didn't hear from Booth again until the ER doctor was nearly finished with the sutures.

"Where are you?" he asked anxiously as soon as she answered the phone.

"The ER. I needed stitches," she grumbled. When he appeared in front of her a short while later, Brennan was shocked at the state of him. The bleeding from his head wound had slowed, but he was utterly drenched from head to toe.

"Why are you all wet?"

Booth let the doctor check his head wound and was pleased that he wouldn't need stitches. As they made their way home for a change of clothes, he explained that he had most likely interrupted the murder of the lobbyist. Ray Porter had been tied up in his home, and Gormogon had fled through the back door when Booth had arrived. He'd chased the man through several backyards and eventually caught up with him near a neighbor's swimming pool. Gormogon had still been wearing the motorcycle helmet when he picked up a young boy and dove into the pool, holding him on the bottom until Booth dove in to intervene. As soon as Booth had reached them, the man had made a break for it, disappearing just as Booth reached the surface with the boy.

"Do you think it was the master or the apprentice? Jason Harkness is dead, so… Does that mean he's working alone now?" Brennan asked curiously. They had reached the house and were in the process of changing into new clothing.

"I'm not sure, but this guy was either fairly young or in really great shape. He was fast," Booth replied. "I need to go to the Hoover. I've got to touch base with my team about the bomb, give a statement… You should stay here." The expression on her face told him that she had no intention of following that advice.

"I need to go talk to Russ," she said, slipping her shoes on. "I can drop you off at the Hoover on my way. Your SUV is still at the lab anyway. Do you know where he's being held?"

"Yeah," Booth sighed, wondering if it would be worth expending his limited energy to argue with her over going anywhere alone. "He's in the same place as your dad. I know he's not a violent offender, but I figured that maybe he wouldn't have to watch his back so much if Max was with him."

"Thank you," Brennan said softly.

"Don't thank me too much. I'm having an agent tail you while we're separated." She opened her mouth to protest, but he headed her off. "Gormogon just tried to kill us, Bones. You're lucky I'm letting you go at all."

Brennan fought the natural instinct to argue with his presumption, and she reluctantly agreed with the plan. She promised she would go straight back to the Hoover after she spoke with Russ.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

The warden agreed to let Brennan see Russ in the same private visitation room they granted for her visits to Max. She paced the room while she waited for him, and when he finally joined her, he was shocked at her appearance.

"Tempe, what happened to you?"

"I got blown up," she replied quickly, having momentarily forgotten the sutured gash on her forehead. In the hours since the explosion, a dark bruise had blossomed on her cheek as well. Brennan didn't give him time to comment on her injuries. "Russ, I never told Dad that you should turn yourself in to Booth."

"If I'd come to you, you'd have told Booth anyway," he insisted. "What do you mean 'blown up?'"

"It's a case, Russ. It's my job. We're trying to put a bad guy away."

"You mean in here? With other bad guys like me? And Dad?"

"There are levels of 'bad guy,' Russ," she shook her head dismissively. "You're not even on the first level."

"Why do I feel like you just called me a sissy?" he retorted. Brennan sighed, beginning to lose her patience.

"I wanted you to hear it from me, Russ. Dad lied. I never told him it was safe to come back."

"I had to come back, Tempe."

"For Hayley," she nodded.

"Yes… But they're gonna put me away after my parole hearing."

"It's not just that you violated parole," she reminded him. "They think you know something about Dad's murder case."

"I don't," he insisted, frustrated by the doubt he saw in her expression. "Nobody believes anybody in this family. What? Maybe I'm just like him, right? A liar, not worthy of trust."

"No… Don't say that." Brennan was torn, wanting to trust him again but unable to forget the reasons she didn't. She watched him pace irritably across the room.

"I am just like him. I am," he shrugged angrily. "I had a family; I left them."

"You haven't killed anyone," she offered weakly.

"Is that… That's the most reassuring you can be? 'Hey Russ, congratulations on never killing anyone.'" His tone was mocking, and she cringed.

"Being reassuring is not my strong suit," she admitted, finally collapsing into her usual seat.

"Levels of 'bad,' right?" he said, deflating visibly as he took the opposite chair. "And I'm a sissy."

"It's a good thing, Russ." They sat in silence for a moment, and she could see that his mind was somewhere else.

"Thanks for helping Hayley. I love that little girl like she was my own. You believe that, don't you?"

"Of course, Russ. I feel the same way about Parker. I'd do anything for him." Russ sighed and pursed his lips in remorse.

"I'm sorry I missed your wedding. I wish I could've been there for real," he said wistfully.

"You did show up though. At least in some way. I don't have any pictures with me right now, but Dad should have some he can show you." She had eventually gotten around to sharing her wedding album with him, and he'd been thrilled to be given a few photographs to put on the wall next to his bunk. "I'm… I'm sorry that Booth had to arrest you. Since you came to his office, there's a record of your visit. Witnesses. If he'd let you go and someone had found out about it later, he would've gotten into serious trouble. Probably would've lost his job."

"He thinks I need to take responsibility for my actions," Russ surmised. Brennan nodded reluctantly. "Is that what you think too?"

"Yes. Even Dad is doing it. You should too." She frowned when he averted his eyes, looking very much like the young boy she remembered. "You said that no one trusts anyone in this family, and you were right. That's because some of us keep running away, keep hiding, keep lying to save ourselves… If we're all going to trust one another ever again, like we used to, then everyone needs a clean slate. And that means taking responsibility for the things we've done wrong."

"What are you taking responsibility for?" Russ asked dubiously. Brennan shrugged indulgently.

"I've never committed a crime, but I know that I have a tendency to hold a grudge. I've been trying very hard to let things go. I'm trying to make amends with you… and Dad. I'm trying to forgive him, but there are things that…" she trailed off, wishing she could speak openly about the things she'd learned over the past few months.

"What?" he encouraged, reading her hesitation easily.

"Did you and Dad ever talk about… about my experiences in the system?" she asked carefully. Russ looked surprised at her question and gave a small nod.

"He asked me what I knew about it. We actually got into a big fight when he first came to see me last year. He was pissed at me for leaving you. Rightfully so. We talked for a while. I didn't want to get into it because I knew how much it would hurt him to hear it, but he wore me down. I told him what you told me, but I tried to keep the details to a minimum. Why are you asking me that now? Did Dad say something?"

"No," she said quickly. "Did you… Were you guys ever near Chicago while you were on the run?"

"No." Russ's forehead wrinkled in renewed confusion. "He got me settled somewhere else pretty quickly and took off again. Why?"

"Forget it," she muttered, not meeting his eyes. Brennan stood abruptly and reached for her bag. "I'm really tired. I need to get home."

"Yeah," he nodded. "You look like hell. Be careful, alright? I know guys in prison who don't get hurt as often as you seem to." Brennan rolled her eyes but gave him a reluctant smile, and he stood up as well to hug her goodbye. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"You too."

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Thanks for reading. Review if you have a quick second. It really means a lot. Thanks and see you Wednesday!