I hope this is worth your time, and that it makes sense to you… I'm starting to honor Booth's coma dream here, so bear with me…

She truly didn't understand where she was. The only thing she knew was that there was warmth, and a peace she had never felt before in her adult life.

Everything was white. When she squinted her eyes, she feared the light would hurt them, but she found that it while it was bright, it was pleasantly soft. She moved her neck, thinking she would feel pain, but when she tilted her head, there was nothing there. She immediately raised her hand to touch the spot, and found there was no wound.

Stunned, as she stared at the ceiling, she started realizing where she was. It couldn't be. She was back in her room, in her house. Not her foster homes, not her current apartment. Her parents' house.

She gasped as, with one look, she noticed she was in her childhood room. She stood from the bed she was lying on, her bed, and quickly made her way to the mirror in her vanity. She still looked the same. For a second she feared she would stare into her 15-year old self, but she was still the same as the last time she had taken a look into her mirror. The only difference was that there weren't any lines of fatigue etched on her face, no gauntness. She looked beautiful, healthy and carefree. She had on a white blouse, and a pair of comfortable jeans, along with flats. It was the outfit she put on regularly when she wanted to go for a walk and clear her mind.

She inhaled deeply several times, trying to steady her wildly beating heart, and after a few minutes, she felt the fear give way to the comfort she had always associated to the image of her childhood home.

She slowly went to her door, and opened the doorknob. Everything was silent, eerily so. One by one, she opened the door to each room, peeking inside: her parents' room, Russ' room, but there was no one there.

She shook her head, as she made her way down the stairs. "I must have hypoxia, and therefore my brain is coming up with weird images, very much like what happened to Booth when he had his comma dream", she thought to herself, and continued moving through the living room, her breath caught in her throat as she realized everything was the same way, just as the day Social Services had come for her. The Christmas ornaments, the tree, her heart clenching painfully when she saw the gifts she had refused to open still lying on the plush rug under the tree, and that had remained there. She swallowed remembering how she asked the social worker to hold on to them, and give them to her when she was out of the system, fearing they would get lost in her future foster homes. It would be her promise to hold on to life, and never give up. Indeed, when she was 18, and the hell that had been the foster system was over for her, she had gone to the Social Services office, and asked for the woman. She had been removed from her case, but she had never forgotten about the unusual request coming from the 15-year old, and how heartbroken she was. The woman had only smiled at her, and handed her a bag with the presents. Over the years, she had found the courage to open some of them over the years during Christmas, a testament to the strength she could never give up if she wanted to continue her path towards success. The last one was the one she opened when she met Ivy Gilespie, and saw the reflection of a live without answers in the old woman. She recalled how the woman's eyes had lit up as she had told her that Lionel had never broken his promise to her, and their unborn child, how, even after so many years, her heart had been mended by knowing he had loved her until the day he had died.

She tenderly caressed the wood above the chimney, her fingers touching the soft velvet of the Christmas boots with their names on it. Hers was the smallest, since she said she didn't believe in Santa. Her parents had just laughed at her when they started hanging them, saying that no matter how invested in science she was, she could never deny herself the pleasure of being irrational, at least once a year.

The calm she found in being surrounded by the familiarity of her house continued to grow until she heard some noises coming from the kitchen.

Her pulse skyrocketed, but she wasn't about to run. Whether if this was a dream or her oxygen-deprived brain, she was still the same Temperance Brennan who never backed out from danger. So, she quickly scanned her surroundings. The only thing she found was a large umbrella. Swiftly and silently taking it into her hands, she thought that at least she would be able to defend herself.

But when she made her way to the kitchen, peeking carefully over the threshold, it was when her heart truly stopped. There was her mother. Her beautiful mother, wearing an apron, baking cookies as she had done each Christmas until the day she left, the umbrella falling from her hands with a clatter to the hardwood floor.

She swallowed hard, and couldn't prevent the tears that came to her eyes, "Mom?", she asked shakily.

Christine turned on her heels, and wiping her hands on a towel, she smiled, "Tempe".

"You're not real", she said, scrunching her eyelids, willing her mind to get rid of the vision, but when she opened them a few seconds later, her mother was still there, "You can't be real".

Her eyes pooled even more, and Christine lovingly said, "Come here. Sit. We have much to discuss", she timidly made her way to the kitchen table, where her mother already sat waiting for her.

"You're not real. This is the product of my oxygen deprivation, a way for my mind to find comfort I the turmoil of the trauma I suffered", she said again, and Christine smiled indulgently at her, "I'm as real as you want me to be, honey", she said, and Brennan flinched as she felt her mother's touch on her hand.

It was still as soft and comforting as ever.

"I don't understand", she pleaded brokenly, "I don't understand. I know, I know in my mind you're dead, I know this is just my brain acting up because probably I'm dying and my brain cells are deprived of oxygen", she repeated, and Christine caressed her hand even more tenderly, giving her time to adjust.

"Would you like to know why I'm here?", she asked, and Temperance could only nod her head, because in truth, she did need to know why her mother was there, even if she knew it was just a dream.

"You're not dying, Temperance. Not yet, at least", she started. "I know you've always hated the term, but your brain and your body are suspended in a… Limbo of sorts", at Temperance's frown, she said, "Let me explain. Your brain is trying to heal your broken body, and the reason why you're here is because, no matter how much you want to let go, how much you think there's nothing else for you out there, the will to fight has been engraved in you ever since we left you. Yes, rationally, you know I'm dead, but there's something you missed", she said.

"What?", Temperance asked, afraid of the answer.

"The thought of me has never stopped being comforting to you. Even if you thought it was silly at first, I know about your weekly visits to my grave. You talk to me there, you tell me about your dreams, and fears, about your disappointments and goals. I know", Temperance's eyes filled with more tears, and when they fell, she quickly wiped them away with her free hand.

"So that's why I'm here. Yes, I'm dead. But you need someone you can trust to help you open the doors of your mind you're trying to keep shut. Your brain is screaming at you, begging you to see the future that will surely come if your choices remain the same. What I'm here to do, Tempe, is guide you so you find the strength to acknowledge what your mind has been telling you".

"And, according to you, what is it that I need to learn?", she asked, shaking her head tiredly.

"Temperance, you trust your mind more than anything else. But when it fails you, you feel you have no ground. I'm going to talk to you in terms you will understand. Remember the premise about how time flows?", she asked, and Temperance nodded, "Time is a like a river. It can't be stopped. It can't be reversed. But if you change the course of the river, then naturally, it follows that the events that are linked to the flow of that river have to change too. Well, that was my personal take on it, anyway. Your father was always the brains in this couple", Christine said, smiling softly.

"I know that. If the past could be changed, you would be alive. You wouldn't have left me, and Russ", Temperance said, pitifully, "Though the years, I've come to accept that you left to protect me, but it didn't change the fact that there were many times I almost didn't make it".

Christine nodded. "I know. `What ifs´ only serve to increase the heartache you feel when things go wrong in your life. I wondered many times what would have happened if we had taken you with us. Russ was older, he was already out of school, and he could defend himself, and he could even help you, but you were still a little girl. You had never been exposed to the hardships of life, we had sheltered you, and then you were forced to grow up in seconds. It is one of the reasons your father hurts so much: you were the apple of his eye, his baby girl. Russ was always independent, but he loved how much you trusted him, and it also killed him to leave you behind. But I'm not here to show you the `what ifs´ of your past, which cannot be changed. I'm here to show you what your mind is too hurt to accept".

"And according to you, what is it that I'm supposed to see?", Temperance asked, her heart beating wildly as she started realizing the implications of what her mother was telling her, a truth she didn't want to see..

And Christine smiled tenderly, and said, "Follow me", she said, squeezing her hand before standing.

Christine made Temperance follow her to the garden, both women standing on the porch. The picture she was presented with was nothing like she had expected to see. Instead of the garden she had seen through her childhood years, there were two pathways, daisies and daffodils on each side of them, pointing the road to nowhere. There was truly no end in sight. The irony wasn't lost on her.

"The pathway reference is not a metaphor, Temperance. As an empiricist, you know it. You know that when you take a road in life, the other starts to fade completely, until it disappears. Someone as rational as you can't truly believe in the idea of alternate universes, but what your mind wants you to see while your guard is down and you're not truly in control is how the decisions you've made have shaped you into the woman you're today", Christine explained.

"But I already know that. I mean, I even acknowledged this before Angela. Out of everyone at the lab, I'm the only one who's living the life I expected", she interjected, and Christine smiled.

"But, are you truly happy by it? Temperance, it is true. You took each decision carefully so being here was the only result. Your only focus was excelling, and in that drive to excel, you missed out on many good people, people who wanted to be with you", Christine explained, "However, they lacked one fundamental quality. Endurance. Persistence. The only man who truly embodied those qualities and touched your heart is him", they didn't need to say his name, for they both knew only Seeley Booth fitted the description.

"He's the only one you let your walls down for, the only one you truly let in. Not even Angela has reached the deep recesses of your heart the way he has. No one knows you like he does, and no one was as insistent and relentless as he was to find the way inside your heart and mind. But you've always been afraid that someday, he'll find something horrible about you, and his love will wane", Temperance lowered her eyes to the ground, and Christine's gentle hand on her chin made her meet eyes as blue as hers, making her remember the comfort that always came from staring into her mother's eyes, as fake as this reality could be, it felt definitely real.

"Temperance, your life hangs in the balance. You threw yourself in front of that woman because you love that little boy like he was the child of your womb, and as the child of your heart", Temperance couldn't fight her words or her own tears, because indeed she adored Parker, both for being Booth's and for his tender heart, "But we both know there was another reason there. The same reason that prevents you from wanting to fight for your life as you lay in that hospital bed. You feel you lost the reasons you had to fight. You feel that when you open your eyes, there won't be anyone for you. You feel you're again completely alone".

"But I am", Temperance argued sadly.

"It feels like that, but eventually, you'll learn. Temperance. These roads before you are not mutually exclusive. This one", she pointed to the left, "is the road that will lead you to see what will happen if the events continue to unfold to where the flow is already leading them, in the present. This is what will happen if, when you wake up, you continue to act like you always have, and let your rational mind overrule the desires of the live you wanted and gave up on when you gave up on Booth", Christine said.

Temperance swallowed, "And the other one?". She didn't even have the strength to argue and say she had never given up on him, but that it had been he who had given up on her, on his love for her.

"The other one is what would have happened if you had said yes that night, if you hadn't left your fears get in the way. This is what your mind knows would have happened, what you didn't want to accept. That is why you left and ran away from everything", Christine told her.

"But you said I couldn't change the past. I already took a gamble, and he said he… he has someone else", she pleaded, and Christine raised a hand to caress her cheek, "I don't see the point in seeing a future that can no longer be".

"Yes. The past can't be changed. But when you see what would have been, you will learn something about yourself. By letting your mind show you this, there is something you will only understand when you open yourself to the discovery. Go. I would advise you to start with the left one. When you're done, you'll be brought here again", she nodded, but fear was visible on her eyes, "While you're there, it will feel like it's completely real, you'll feel every emotion, every sensation", Christine explained.

"Go, honey. I'll be waiting for you", she encouraged, and Temperance timidly took the stairs down. She let her shoes take in the raspy texture of the gravel beneath her feet until suddenly there was a white light surrounding her, and she stopped feeling, her eyes closing.

The journey was beginning.

So, from now on, everything involving Brennan will be the journey she will be embarking on, as she finally lets go and lets her mind show her the future if she continues to travel the same road…

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