Okay, April still has some issues to deal with, and they come out big time in this chap. FYI, it's a little graphic.

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If people saw me now, they'd think I was nuts…I don't know, maybe I am.

I just wish I could see what they see, or what they don't see…I just wish I could see something.

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April stood, not moving a muscle, staring at her face in the mirror. She had been doing this for more than an hour, ever since she'd run out of school after lunch.

To most, she might look as if she were looking for pimples or had just gotten lost in space for a moment, but that wasn't the case at all.

Beneath all that stillness was a war waging inside, as a girl who had been told for so long that she was worthless, struggled not to believe it.

She curled her toes into the soft bathroom rug and held her breath against a familiar tightness in her chest. But nothing changed.

Her dark hair fell flat against her cheeks and a pair of tortured green eyes were almost visible through it. She swallowed hard and the flush in her cheeks could have easily been seen against her pale skin.

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God, it's not fair! I was going to stop. I was ready to give living a try. And then he said that, the boy in my class. I know I should ignore him…but I can't. I keep hearing his words and I hate them, I hate what they make me think.

When I hear stuff like what he said, I know I'll never be okay, and I wonder why I even try. I wonder if it makes me horrible, because I hate them so much.

I hate my Mom for dieing and I hate my Dad for leaving. I hate Seeley for choosing Parker, I hate Tempe for trying so hard to understand me and succeeding. I hate school and I hate art and I hate Tommy for being sent away.

But more than anything…I hate me.

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Her breathing became ragged as she leaned over the sink, no longer able to fight back the sobs trying to burst forth from her chest. Her mascara smudged and her eyes looked even more sunken than before. Her skin crawled and then was ice cold, she felt as if she would suffocate if she didn't relieve the pressure, if she couldn't find some way to escape.

Unthinking, unseeing, she stumbled out of the bathroom and down the hall toward the kitchen. She gasped and wheezed, but couldn't get any air. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pounding in her skull and the raging sirens in her ears, but nothing helped. Her vision blurred and she couldn't stand the thought of staining her cheeks with tears again.

She slammed into the kitchen counter, not realizing she'd been running and without a thought she yanked open the silverware drawer. Adrenalin caused her to pull too hard and the box came flying out of it's tracks, spilling the contents across the kitchen floor with a loud clanging she didn't notice.

April hit her knees and with trembling hands, searched for the serrated knives. As the tortured wails and sobs broke forth, she refused to admit that she was crying, even to herself. Her shaking hands gripped the icy steel and she took a deep breath, hiccupping and wiping at her face, desperately trying to see through the pain.

After a single moments hesitation, she shoved her sleeve up and closed her eyes. She held her breath, and for a single instant, allowed images, memories and voices of the past to fully invade her mind. Something inside her broke, as it had so many times before. She pulled the knife across her skin and it left a ragged tear in it's wake. She did it once, twice more before the noise began to fall away.

Her breathing slowed and the memories stopped. She watched in absent fascination as the crimson liquid marred her delicate skin and she reveled in the calm suddenly washing over her now trembling body.

With a small sigh, she dropped the knife and sat back, curling into a ball.

On the floor amongst the scattered silverware and spilled blood, April let her tears fall.

Booth took a deep breath before bounding up the stairs to the platform where the squints were congregated.

To say the morning had been tense would be an understatement. Brennan had hardly looked at him during breakfast and her silent treatment was surprisingly effective for someone who probably didn't know what that meant. He hadn't argued when she took her own car to work and he'd refused to call all morning, still unable to convince himself that he'd been wrong, at least, no more wrong than she.

Finally, over a slice of cherry pie in the diner at lunch, which he'd hoped would calm his nerves enough to be civil when he went to the Jeffersonian, he had come to the conclusion that whether or not he'd been wrong about April, his harsh words to Brennan were way out of line. For that, at least, he could apologize.

"Hey guys, got anything?" Booth asked, trying to sound as normal as possible as he approached. Hodgins and Zack gave him an icy glance before returning to their respective computer screens and Brennan didn't even look up from her bent position over the remains.

He sighed. Great, she's got the squints on her side.

"Hello?" He tried, waving his hand in front of Hodgins' face. "Got any body sloosh from the vic that can help me out?" He asked cheekily.

Hodgins turned toward a microscope on his left. "Nothing so far. Check with Zack."

Booth closed his eyes briefly, counting away the anger he felt rising and slowly turned to Zack.

"How about you Z-man?" He asked, some of the luster now gone from his voice.

Before Zack could answer Brennan spoke.

"Booth, why don't you stop harassing my team and go do something productive at your own office?" She picked up the right femur and examined it closer under a magnifying glass, "No, wait, let me guess, I'm not an FBI agent, so I wouldn't understand." Her icy words were accompanied by a meaning ful glance before she returned her attention to the remains.

Booth winced. "Bones, I…"

"Your victim is eleven-years-old. Female." Zack jumped in, "Asian decent. Bone density irregularities suggest she suffered from Osteogenesis Imperfecta."

"Brittle bones." Booth supplied. Zack looked up, surprised, as did Hodgins and Brennan who flicked her eyes toward him before turning away again.

"What?" Booth said defensively, putting his hands on his hips, "I listen, I learn."

Hodgins started to open his mouth, but closed it again at the challenging glare Booth sent him.

"That's correct Agent Booth." Zack said finally, "That was the cause of the fractures Dr. Brennan noted on her preliminary."

Booth turned to Brennan for the first time. "So she wasn't beaten?"

Brennan straightened, her posture and tone all-business.

"No, not necessarily. Most of the fractures are healed, many years old and her bones are underdeveloped from the constant strain." She put her hands in the pockets of her lab coat, bringing her eyes to Booth's for the first time and fighting down the wave of heat she felt every time she met gazes with him.

"The cause of death was the split between the C4 and C5 vertebrae, her neck was snapped."

Booth nodded but didn't respond, letting his eyes stay on hers a moment longer, hoping to communicate, plead with her. But Brennan grew fidgety under his gaze and turned away just in time to see Angela approaching.

The artist swiped her way up onto the platform and went to Booth and Brennan, a mixture of puzzlement and disgust on her face.

"What is it Angela? Did you get a match in Missing Persons?" Brennan asked, unconsciously moving to stand beside Booth, just outside his personal space.

"Yeah, two." Angela held up two printouts of identical girls with dark hair, dark eyes and bright smiles.

Brennan took the papers from Angela and Booth leaned over her shoulder to read them, though he was being careful not to touch her.

"Kim and Anne Tsu."

"Twins?" Booth asked, already knowing the answer.

Brennan nodded her head morbidly. "They were snatched from a shopping mall in Bethesda in 2003. Anne suffered from Osteogenesis Imperfecta."

Stepping closer to read the file over her shoulder, Booth placed his hand on the small of Brennan's back. She stiffened at the contact and pursed her lips. Shoving the papers into Booth's hands, she stripped away her lab coat and moved briskly off the platform.

"Bones…"

"Let's go."

Booth took another deep breath and quickly followed his girlfriend off the platform, their talk would have to wait.

"I don't like Mr. Tsu. He didn't seem too broken up." Booth commented as they left their victim's subdivision. He hoped to pass the rest of their thirty-minute drive back to DC in an easy and relatively safe, discussion of the case while avoiding any uncomfortable relationship talk.

"Well, characteristically Asian men are less likely to outwardly convey emotion. Much like in the United States it's culturally frowned upon for men to show any kind of weakness, including crying." Brennan stated to the passing scenery. Then she turned away from the window to face him. "Besides, if he killed his daughters, where is the other body?"

"Who said anything about 'daughters'?"

"You think the other girl is still alive?"

Booth shrugged as his cell phone rang in his pocket.

"We only have one body, don't we?" He flipped open his phone and Brennan considered his argument.

"Booth."

Brennan ignored most of his conversation, silently coming up with arguments to dispute his theory, since there were plenty of reasons why they wouldn't have a body for Kim Tsu.

But after a few moments, Booth's voice began to work its way back into her thoughts, he did not sound happy.

"Well where is she?…What do you mean you don't know, isn't there some sort of attendance policy?…So you're telling me you lost her." Booth grew more and more tense, his grip on the steering wheel tightened and Brennan watched as he clenched his teeth when listening to the person on the other end.

"Fine. Maybe next time you don't wait until three hours later to call me." He slammed shut his phone and moved over to take the next exit off the highway.

Brennan waited for him to fill her in, judging by the red in his face, she wouldn't have to wait long.

"That was April's school." He said tersely. Brennan straightened at mention of the girl's name. "She hasn't been seen since lunch."

Booth slid his gaze over to his partner and for the first time that day, they were seeing eye to eye. Both equally worried about a girl they both considered their own.

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Maybe when I wake up it'll all be over.

Probably not...but a girl can dream, right?

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