A/N: I'll make this short since you already have a lot of reading to do for this chapter. I swear, I had to hold myself back on that one because I would have written more than 13 pages. Anyway happy reading! I'm glad you all still like this story. By the way, the spelling mistake at end was put there on purpose.

She had expected anyone but the child she was currently staring at in the warmth and light of the Robertson's living room to be the intruder in that dark and stuffy underground room. The way his eyes had shown in the spotlight, almost like those of a cat, had startled her. Now that he was out in the sunlight, he looked pale and, through his thin skin, Temperance could distinguish every single bone in his body. She mentally named them all she looked him over. His clothes were dirty and way too big for him, because of the fact he looked like he hadn't eaten in days or the fact that they had already been too big for him in the first place, she had no idea.

She wondered who he was. The child refused to talk and wouldn't break the silence to even tell them his name. Booth had gone to the SUV to fetch her laptop.

"If he's reported missing," He had said more to him than to her "we'll find his file in the missing person's database."

He had waited a few seconds, to see if the child was change his mind, before walking out.

The front door opened and Booth stepped inside the house. Seconds later, he was coming around the corner and walking inside the living room, closing the french doors behind him. Sitting down beside her on the love seat, he handed her the laptop.

"Male. Brown hair and brown eyes. Between four foot eight and five feet tall. Possibly between 9 and 12 years old." Booth told her, as he examined the little boy.

Temperance typed in the information and watched as pictures of various children flashed rapidly before her eyes. In a matter of seconds, twenty hits had been found.

Leaning closer to his partner, Booth looked down at the small screen. He shook his head at the first photo.

"Not him. Click on the next one."

Booth looked up every now and then at the child sitting across from him. His eyes were cast on the floor, never leaving the tip of his worn-out running shoes. More questions than answers ran through his mind. Who was this child? What was he doing under the Robertson's home? Did he know who had killed Mackenzie? Had he heard? Had he seen? Had he known about the other remains? Had he seen them?

The tenth picture showed a young boy with short brown hair, an angelic smile plastered on his sweet face. Booth read the name before turning to his wife. Temperance nodded. Though the little boy in the picture looked younger than the one sitting across from them, they knew they had found their match.

"Jeremy Lexington?"

The boy looked up from his shoes. His eyes were empty, devoid of any emotion, but Temperance could tell by the way his shoulders had slumped at the sound of his name that he knew he was defeated.

"My friends call me Jimmy." Jeremy mumbled under his breath.

"Well, Jimmy, now that we've found your name, would you mind telling us what you were doing in that room?"

The boy remained silent.

"Or maybe we should just call your parents and ask them to come down here."

"They wouldn't come anyway."

The tone had been so low, Booth hadn't understood a word.

"I'm sorry, what?"

The boy looked up at the agent, annoyed.

"They wouldn't come down anyway!" The boy replied, louder. "They don't care."

Booth and Temperance exchanged a look.

"What do you mean they don't care?"

"My dad left me when I was four and my mom recently got a new boyfriend and she hasn't even looked at me since then."

Booth sighed.

"Is that why you've been living in that room?"

"I ran away from home." Jimmy replied.

"When?"

"I can't remember."

"The file says that his mother reported him missing about three weeks ago." Temperance said.

Booth nodded.

"What have you been doing all this time?"

"Walking around, mostly, stealing stuff to eat."

"Are you from Winchester?"

Jimmy nodded.

Booth wondered how an 11-year-old boy, who had run away from home and was reported missing for over three weeks, had been able to walk around the city undetected.

"Obviously you haven't only been stealing food. We found the Robertson children's belongings in your bag, stuff they have claimed went missing. How did you get them?"

The boy glanced briefly at Lucy Robertson, who had joined the couple in the living room.

"I'd sneak in during the night. I left all my stuff at my house and I needed stuff. Am I going to go to jail?"

Booth turned to Lucy who shook her head.

"I won't be pressing charges."

"You're pretty lucky, Jimmy." Booth added.

The boy nodded.

"Come on. I'll drive you home."

Jimmy shook his head.

"No. I'm not going back!"

"Why not?"

"Because they don't want me there."

"You don't know that. If your mother reported you missing, it's because she cares. If she hadn't, she wouldn't have done so. Come on. I'm sure your mother is worried."

Jimmy looked up at the agent and frowned. As much as he dreaded going back home, he knew he had no choice. The FBI agent sitting across from him was much taller and much stronger than he was. He wouldn't be able to fight him off even if he tried.

Reluctantly, the boy got to his feet, followed by Booth.

"You go home. I'll drive him alone."

"How am I supposed to pick up the kids? We left my car at the museum."

"Just walk." Booth replied. "It's not far."

Temperance sighed irritatedly.

"So where do you live?"

Jimmy remained silent and stared out the window. Booth sighed loudly.

"Look, I would really like to help you. But if you can't even answer my questions, I'll have no choice but to hand you over to the local PD and they're going to find out on their own where you live. It's your call. Either you don't talk and I drop you off at the police station and they will drive you home in a police car, or you tell me where you live and you get to be brought him by a cool FBI guy in a cool SUV."

A smile twitched at Jimmy's lips.

"You're not that cool." Jimmy said, turning to him.

Booth smiled and the boy shyly did the same.

"So? What will it be?"

"98 Coulter Street."

On the other side of the city. Booth thought. This boy has come a long way by foot to get where he is now.

Putting the SUV in reverse, Booth pulled out of the driveway. They had been driving for a few minutes when Jimmy spoke again.

"You'll probably want to ask me about the bones?"

Booth remained silent. Jimmy, getting no answer, turned back to the window.

Booth wasn't surprised when he turned onto Coulter Street. Neat neighborhood, upper middle-class to lower upper-class, houses that he wouldn't be able to afford on his own salary. He didn't like to judge but the neighborhood spoke of child negligence, done by parents who were so focused on their job they forgot that buying children stuff could not replace parental love and affection. Yet, when he looked at the little boy, he felt as though his mother wasn't part of that crowd. It seemed more to him she had been pushed into that world in spite of herself.

He turned to the boy.

"That's a pretty nice neighborhood you live in."

Jimmy nodded.

"My mom and I moved here about six months ago. We live with her boyfriend now."

"What's his name?"

"Corey."

Booth nodded. His instincts had once again proved him right.

They stopped in front of a two-storey pink-brick house. Flowers had already started to bloom on the front lawn and a vine climbed up a white rack beside the front door. Three cars were parked in the driveway, including a mini-van.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"I have a sister. Her name is Clarissa. She's thirteen. Corey has two kids too that live with us. They're younger."

"How old?"

"Seven and four. Dylan, the older, is okay but Arianna is a pain in the a-"

"I see." Booth replied, cutting off the end of the young boy's sentence. "Come on. Let's go inside."

Opening the door, Booth climbed out of the SUV. He was surprised to see Jimmy getting out so willingly. He had expected him to put up a fight, like he had done for everything they had wanted him to do since they found him. Yet, there he was joining him on the other side of the vehicle. Maybe the boy did want to go home.

They walked up to the front door in silence and Booth rang the bell. He turned to the boy who now looked nervous.

"Everything is going to be okay."

Jimmy nodded.

"Do you think anybody is home?"

"All the cars are here. I wouldn't see why not."

They heard footsteps on the other side of the door and by the sound of them, Booth guessed they didn't belong to Jimmy's mother.

The front door opened to reveal a teenage girl, not much taller than Jimmy. Her eyes widened at the sight of her brother.

"MOM!"

"Clarissa?" Booth asked.

The girl nodded.

"Can we come in?"

Clarissa stepped aside, letting her brother and the stranger with him inside of the house. Booth was closing the door behind him when a young looking woman came around the corner.

"What's the matter, Clari?"

She stopped in her path as her eyes fell on her son. Her hands immediately went to her face and she gasped loudly.

"Jimmy?"

Her voice shook, letting no doubt as to what she might have been feeling. Soon, tears shot to her eyes and she was launching towards her son. Gathering him in her arms, she began sobbing. Booth simply watched, silently.

Minutes passed and the sobbing slowly subsided. Jimmy's mother finally disengaged her son from her grip and turned to the FBI agent.

"Thank you for bringing my son home."

"No problem, ma'am."

"Where did you find him?"

"It's a long story to tell out in the hall. Would you mind if we sat down somewhere? I'll tell you all about Jimmy's story and then I would like to ask him a few questions."

"About the bones?" Jimmy asked.

Booth ignored his question.

"Shall we?"

Jimmy's mother, who turned out to be called Hannah, led them to a small room that Booth believed was only used when greeting guests. Two white armchair and a vanilla love seat served as the only piece of furniture in the room, along with a coffee table and a lamp.

"This is quite a nice home you've got here."

Hannah nodded.

"We moved in with my husband just before Christmas. It was supposed to be a Christmas presents for both his kids and mine but it didn't turn out exactly how he have planned."

The siblings remained quiet.

"What?" The mother asked, as though surprised her children hadn't agreed with her.

Clarissa and Jimmy exchanged looks.

"Mom, don't get mad." Clarissa started. "It's just that since you and Corey moved in together, you kinda..."

"I kinda what?" Hannah asked, offended.

"You kinda stopped caring." Jimmy replied.

"I did not stop caring."

"It seems like you did, Mom." Clarissa continued. "Jimmy and I felt like we didn't exist to you anymore. All you cared about was Corey, Dylan and Arianna."

Hannah turned to her son.

"You feel the same way?"

Jimmy nodded.

"Why do you think I ran away?"

Hannah's eyes widened.

"You ran away? Where?"

"That's why I'm here, Mrs...?"

"Stiles. Mrs. Stiles."

"Well, Mrs Stiles, this is why I'm here. You see, my partner and I found your son living in a room under a family's basement."

"What?"

"The problem is that this home is currently under investigation because of a murder that occurred."

Hannah's head snapped to her son.

"You lived under 53 Maple Street?"

Booth frowned.

"I never mentioned anything about 53 Maple Street."

"Of course you didn't." Hannah replied, never taking her eyes off her son. "But there aren't a lot of murders here in Winchester, Agent Booth. I just put two and two together."

Booth nodded.

"Mrs Stiles, I would like to ask your son a few questions if you don't mind. Since he is a minor, I needed to wait for a parent or legal guardian to be present while I question him."

"You will do no such thing, Agent Booth."

"Why not?"

"Because my son is no murderer."

"I never considered Jimmy to be the murderer. But since he has been living under that basement for nearly a month now, I just thought maybe he would know something."

"Well he doesn't."

"Mom." Jimmy warned her.

"Shut up, Jeremy. You will not answer any questions."

"Mom!" Clarissa said, embarrassed by her mother. "Jimmy said..."

"He said nothing, Clarissa. Mind your own business, will you?"

"Mrs Stiles, I'll ask you to stay polite towards your children. There is no reason for you to be rude with them."

"Don't tell me how to raise my kids, Agent Booth."

"Mom!"

"I told you to shut up, Jeremy."

"That's exactly what we mean when we say that you don't care, Mom. Jeremy is trying to tell you that he knows something about the murders and you just tell him to shut up. You never care what we have to say and you always ignore us. You weren't like that before."

Hannah sighed.

"Fine." She said, her face crunched up in an attempt to control her anger. "Talk."

Booth turned to Jimmy.

"How did you know about the trap door?"

"A little girl showed me. It was a little past midnight when I walked in front of 53 Maple Street. I saw a girl sitting standing on the lawn and she told me to follow her. So I did. She led me to the far end of the backyard, towards the shed. Then she pointed to the door. I told her thanks and I climbed down."

Booth frowned.

"A little girl told you where the trap door was?"

Hannah snorted quietly. Booth ignored her.

"Yes."

"How was she? What did she look like?"

Glancing at his mother, then at his sister, Jimmy replied:

"A bit younger than me. Maybe eight or nine. She had long brown hair and blue eyes. She said her name was Melanie."

Booth nodded.

"Did she tell you anything else?"

"No."

"Did you see her other than that one time?"

Jimmy nodded.

"I saw her a couple of times. I saw her that night."

"What night?"

"The night he killed the little girl who lived in the house. The night he pushed her off the roof."

"You saw him?"

Jimmy hesitated, casting another glance at his mother. Finally, he nodded slowly.

"She came to get me. It was still dark outside and I didn't see much. I saw him, on the roof, then I heard a thump and a loud crack. I got scared and I ran back through the trap door before he could see me."

"Jeremy, when you first arrived, were there human remains in your hideout?"

Hannah gasped loudly. Clarissa remained quiet.

"Yes."

"Did anybody come to the hideout while you were there?"

Jeremy shook his head.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure."

"Okay. That will be all for today."

Getting to his feet, he expected Hannah to do the same. But the woman seemed frozen in her seat, as though too shocked by her son's confession to even move. Nodding to both children, he turned around. He was about to walk out the small living room door when Jeremy's voice stopped him.

"You know, the little girl? I just think she's lonely."

Booth frowned before nodding and stepping out of the living room.

Half-way to his SUV, the front door of the house opened behind him.

"Agent Booth!"

Booth turned around to find Clarissa jogging down the stoned stairs and towards him.

"Thank you for bringing my brother back. It wasn't the same without him here."

"No problem. Just doing my job."

"Also, there's something else I thought you should know. There's a rumor going around town."

"A rumor?"

"Yes. About the murders. It's not really a rumor, it's more of a legend."

"A legend?"

Clarissa nodded.

"It's not really a secret what happened to those girls, Agent Booth. Everybody knows their story here in Winchester. But one day, the story changed. Just before the remains were found, I had heard the part of the legend you could say is a rumor."

"Which was?"

"That the girl's remains were still under the 53 Maple Street basement."

Booth frowned.

"Who did you hear that from?"

"Some guy at school who had heard it from someone else, who had heard it from someone else. I didn't really believe it because it had already passed through a few people at school who were known to tell lies. I was really freaked out when I found out that the rumor turned out to be true."

"That boy's name? What is it?"

Clarissa remained silent.

"Clarissa?"

He watched the teen take a deep breath.

"His name is William."

"Okay."

"William Robertson."

The light in the living room was on when Booth pulled in his driveway around six. The front door opened as he slammed the SUV door shut in a loud bang that echoed off the walls of his quiet neighborhood.

"Hi Brina!" Booth said to the little girl who came running towards him.

"Hi Daddy!"

Picking up his daughter in his arms, he kissed her temple.

"Did you open the door all by yourself?"

"Yes." Brina replied.

"Are you sure?" Booth asked, knowing that his two-year-old daughter had been unable to open the door by herself. "So Lukas didn't open the door for you?"

"No." The child answered, shaking her hair, her blond ponytail swaying in time with her movement.

"Then why is Lukas standing at the door right now?"

Brina squealed loudly as Booth tickled her stomach. Setting the child down on the ground, he stepped inside the house.

"Hi Dad."

"Hey Buddy." Booth replied, ruffling his son's hair.

"Mom and Riley are in the living room."

Grabbing his daughter's hand, Booth walked to the living room.

He found his wife and his daughter sitting on the couch, each of them with a book in their hands.

"Well, what a pretty sight." Booth remarked, sarcastically.

Temperance looked up.

"You're home. How did it go?"

Booth sighed.

"It's a long story. Have you guys eaten?"

"No." Riley replied, closing her book. "We're staaarving."

"You're staaaarving? How many a's were there in that word, Temperance?"

"I don't know."

Booth chuckled.

"Okay. Who wants what for dinner?"

"Pizza!" Lukas.

"Chicken fingers!" Riley.

"Fish ticks!" Brina.

Booth looked down at his baby daughter, still holding his finger.

"You want fish ticks?"

The toddler nodded.

"Okay. Who's up for fish ticks?"

"I am." Lukas replied.

"Then fish ticks it is."