Sorry guys, no cutesy hospital scene ::sad face:: We're jumping ahead a few weeks to Brennan's release from the hospital.


36—Crisis

Two days after her release from the hospital, Doctor Temperance Brennan was in her apartment packing. Systematically, as if she could do it in her sleep, she packed a bag of khaki pants and white long-sleeved shirts, with enough underclothes to last her a week. She packed no jewelry, and the only shoes she had placed in the bag were a pair of dark brown work boots.

Moving into the study, she packed a smaller bag, this one with her personal laptop and accessories, followed by a series of small shovels and brushes, and finally a digital camera. Checking that everything had been packed so as not to break during travel, she zipped the bag shut and placed it by the front door.

With one more check to be sure she had everything she would need, she was finally satisfied she hadn't forgotten anything. Moving quickly through the apartment, she checked the locks on the windows and pulled the blinds shut. Stopping in the entryway, she placed two white envelopes on the table, turned on the alarm, picked up her bags, and left the apartment.


Booth dialed her number again, cursing softly when it went directly to voicemail. He'd been trying to call her for the last couple of hours, and hadn't had any luck. She'd obviously turned off her cell, and she wasn't answering her home phone because she wasn't at home.

He knew she wasn't home because he'd already gone by her apartment earlier in the day and noticed her car was gone; otherwise he'd have broken down the door to make sure she was alright.

Pacing the length of his living room, he tried to tell himself that she was fine. That she had a very good excuse for her to be away from her apartment and have her phone off. He tried to make himself believe she hadn't been kidnapped, that she wasn't tied up in some warehouse bleeding to death and in pain.

It wasn't working. Trying to get his mind off of where he was afraid she was, he began thinking of the places she might be. Normally the lab would be his first guess, but since the lab had literally been destroyed in the explosion and subsequent fire, that wasn't an option.

Flipping open his phone, he dialed Angela, hoping the artist had somehow managed to get Brennan out of her apartment.

"Angela, hey, have you seen Bones?" he asked, successfully keeping the worry out of his voice.

"Not today. I tried calling her earlier, but she didn't pick up. I figured she was with you," Angela told him, curious as to where her friend was. "I'm guessing by the call that you haven't seen her either."

"No, and she's not at home," Booth replied, the concern squeezing itself back into his voice. "I'm going to try a couple of other places. If you hear from her, have her call me, alright?"

"Of course. I hope you find her," Angela told him, her voice filled with worry that hadn't been there at the beginning of the conversation.


Brennan stood in line for security, her gaze focused on the floor. Fingering the boarding passes in her pocket, she took another step forward in the line, wondering how long it would take Booth to realize she wasn't at home.

He probably realized it already, she thought. And he's probably working himself up into a frenzy. She felt guilty for making him worry, but she knew it was the only way she'd be able to get away without him coming after her.

Lifting her bag from where it had been resting at her feet, Brennan showed her boarding pass to the airport security guard and passed by him towards the metal detectors.


Booth drove towards the Royal Diner, hoping she had decided to grab some food. Without even pulling over, he knew she hadn't. She wasn't at their usual table, nor was her car in the parking lot.

Sid's was his next stop. Heading away from the Mall, in traffic, Booth pulled out his phone and dialed GW Medical Center.

After explaining to countless people that he was an FBI agent looking for his partner, he finally reached the doctor who had been treating her. No, she hadn't come back for any reason, was all he managed to get from the doctor before being hung up on.

With a sigh, he pulled into the parking lot of Sid's, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of her silver sports car. It wasn't there.

He was already on his way out to Hodgins' estate when he thought to call the prison where her father was. No, Max Keenan hadn't had any visitors today.

Calling Angela back, he informed her of what was going on.

Twenty minutes later, Booth and Angela were heading back to Brennan's apartment, spare key in hand.


It wasn't as if she had just abandoned everyone right after the explosion, Brennan mused while sitting in the boarding area. She had been in the hospital for nearly three weeks, being treated for a concussion, two cracked ribs, and a myriad of abrasions and burns of varying degrees.

Quietly she had spent her days in the hospital bed, never once complaining about wanting to get out. Rarely speaking at all. Booth and Angela had tried to get her to talk; Sweets had tried as well. They'd even called Dr Wyatt to come by to see her, but she wouldn't talk about anything.

Booth had brought in her laptop, and she spent the days sending emails and working on her next novel. She ignored the nurses and doctors when they came in, not even acknowledging them to argue with their assessments.

She knew Booth had been worried about her, but she really just didn't have anything to say. The doctors told him it was shock, and perhaps a mild case of amnesia. She knew they were wrong, and yet she didn't disagree with them.

The day she had been released, she had asked Booth to take her by the lab before they went to her apartment. He'd acquiesced, if only because she'd actually talked to him.

That's when she finally saw what had become of her precious lab. Her lab, her refuge, the place she'd felt the most safe, the most comfortable, since she had been a child. It had been reduced to nearly nothing.

Even three weeks after the explosion, they were just barely setting about working on it. The investigation into the explosion had taken a number of days, followed by another week of neutralizing any chemicals and residual complications from the explosion. Then clearing away the debris took days, especially in the lab itself, where machines and electronics had suffered severe damage.

The Angelator had been reduced to a tangle of wires and metal framing, Angela had told her, nearly in tears that her brain child had suffered such a horrific death.

Losing the lab and all her hard work had been too much for Brennan to handle, so as soon as Booth had left her alone in her apartment she had booked a plane ticket online.


Booth and Angela entered Brennan's apartment, knocking just in case she really was home. The beeping of the alarm told them she wasn't.

Stepping into the entryway to enter the code that would deactivate the alarm, Booth saw the envelopes on the table, sitting next to Brennan's cell phone.

Picking up the letter with his name on it, Booth silently passed the other to Angela, and began reading.