A/N: Thanks for the reviews. They help the inspiration. As promised, a quicker update this time around.

Disclaimer: I own nothing Bones related except my imagination.

As was typically the case, Brennan was the first one from her team to arrive at the Jeffersonian the next morning. Since it was a Saturday, the lab would be pretty quiet most of the day. While it was fairly commonplace for her to work on the weekends, the rest of her team was only coming in because waiting until Monday could affect their ability to recover evidence from the remains which could be critical to the investigation. Unfortunately, flesh decomposition didn't stop for weekends.

She spent a little time going through the emails which had accumulated while she'd been out of the office the day before as she waited for the FBI to deliver the remains from the park. They arrived before the rest of the team came in, so Brennan pushed the gurney carrying the body into the x-ray room and proceeded to make x-rays of all the bones. It was a task she normally delegated to one of the interns, but she was impatient to get started. Besides, once Cam showed up she'd stake a claim over the body for the foreseeable future since there was still a good bit of flesh for her to work with and Hodgins would be all over the body gathering particulates and studying insect activity. It was best for her to just go ahead and get her x-rays now.

By the time she was done and she wheeled the gurney back out to the examination platform, she could see Angela and Hodgins had arrived. Not sure how much Cam had informed them regarding the new case yet, Brennan let Hodgins know the body was ready for them to start working with, then headed into her office to study the x-rays. She was still sitting at her desk, making notes of her observations, when Angela walked in a little more than an hour later.

"Good morning Bren. I guess you didn't get too far with your writing yesterday, did you?"

"Morning Ange. No. This case put the kibotts on that."

"It's kibosh, Sweetie. Put the kibosh on that."

"Oh, right. Did you find something for me?"

"Yeah, I've got an I.D. for you." Angela stated, handing Brennan the folder she'd brought into the office with her. "Cynthia Morton. 22. Lives in Woodbridge, Virginia according to her driver's license. We were able to identify her from her finger prints. Apparently she went through a rebellious phase a few years ago and got convicted on some petty theft charges so she's in the system. She spent about 3 months in jail shortly after her 18th birthday, but there's nothing in her records to indicate she's had any run-ins with the law since then."

Brennan took the file from Angela and started scanning through the contents. "How are the others coming along? Do you know?"

"Between Hodgins and Cam, they've been able to narrow the time of death down to sometime between 6-10 PM on Wednesday. Also, I think Cam has found some marks on the body that she'll want to go over with you when you get to a stopping point with what you're doing now."

Brennan reached for her cell phone. "Okay. Let me call Booth with the I.D. and then I'll go see what Cam's got."

By the time she finished examining the body with Cam, Brennan was forming a pretty clear picture of what had happened to this girl, both how she lived and how she died. She was just about to call Booth and give him an update when he called her. The address on Cynthia Morton's driver's license was for her father's house, Felix Morton. Booth was on his way over to pick her up so they could go talk to him together.

While in the car, Brennan went over her findings with Booth. Cause of death appeared to be strangulation based on damage to the hyoid seen in the x-rays plus bruising around the victims neck. The removal of her heart was definitely done after she was dead. Additionally, her body and her bones showed signs of long term abuse reaching back into her preadolescent childhood.

The house they pulled up to looked like a typical cookie cutter subdivision home in a middle class neighborhood where all the houses had been built at the same time, by the same builder, using the same basic layout. There was a front porch with a swing and a rocking chair. The grass in the yard had been recently mowed, but the planting beds in front of the porch were a little overgrown an in some need of attention. The balustrade around the porch could use some touch-up paint in a few spots.

Booth rang the doorbell. A moment later, the inner door was opened by a young, adolescent male who was still separated from them by an outer screen door. Despite the fact that Brennan estimated his height to be just under 6'-0" and he had broad shoulders with an obvious muscular physique, his face still showed signs of acne, his hair was floppy and unkempt, and he dressed like a typical teenage boy in loose fitting basketball shorts that fell almost to his knees and a sports team T-shirt. Brennan estimated him to be high school age and clinically observed that he would likely become a very attractive man when he finished maturing.

"Yeah?" was all he said, sounding bored and a little belligerent, and Brennan thought his greeting skills could use some work.

"Morning. I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth with the FBI and this is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian Institute." Booth flashed the boy his badge. "We're looking for Felix Morton. We've a few questions we'd like to ask him. Is he around?"

The young man's attention had turned to study Brennan during the introduction and he turned his eyes back to Booth only as he answered. "Dad? No, man. He stepped out to run some errands a little while ago but I expect he'll be back pretty soon if you want to come in and wait for him. Is everything okay?"

"How about your mom? Is she home?"

"No. I don't have a mom."

"What's your name son?"

"Me? I'm Gil. Gilbert Morton."

"And how old are you Gil?"

"I'm 16. I'll be 17 in a few weeks. Why? What's going on?"

"Well then, since you're still a minor Gil, it's probably best if we wait outside." Booth stepped back, looked around the porch, then went and settled in the rocking chair. "I'm not really supposed to talk to you without a parent or guardian around, but you can chat with my partner if you want. She can't really tell you anything about our investigation, but she's not technically law enforcement so you can talk to her about other things if you want."

Brennan glowered at Booth as she stepped back and went to go sit on the porch swing. She hated when he did this to her . . . threw her into a situation where she had to make small talk with a stranger when she was totally unprepared. She watched as Gil came out of the house and carefully sat down beside her on the swing. Now that he had moved into better light, she could see evidence of a fading hematoma around his eye. With her usual tact (or lack thereof), Brennan pointed. "That must've hurt."

Gil lifted a hand and touched the side of his face. "Oh, yeah. Not too bad. I was just, you know . . . rough housing with a buddy of mine at school and things got carried away. It was an accident. He didn't even realize he'd hit me until the next day when he saw the swelling."

Booth and Brennan looked at one another briefly, both skeptical of Gil's explanation.

"So, you're that best-selling crime story novelist, aren't you?"

Brennan was surprised to be recognized by someone so young. "Yes. I am. Although my novels aren't really written with an audience your age in mind."

"Because they have sex and violence in them?"

"Yes. Precisely."

Gil smiled in a way that was typical of a cocky adolescent male. "I'm old enough to be familiar with both." Brennan imagined that was probably true. He had the type of looks that would appeal to the girls so she doubted he was still a virgin and she was fairly certain that he was a victim of abuse, like his sister, so he'd also be acquainted with violence. "You know, I've seen you in an interview on TV before and I've seen your picture on your books. I've read a couple of them. You're even prettier in person. You have gorgeous eyes."

Brennan blushed, not used to compliments unless she was on a date, and gave him a soft smile. "Thank you Gil. That's a very sweet thing to say." She looked to Booth to see if she handled that correctly.

Booth rolled his eyes as he watched Gil watching Brennan. Bones had just wrapped another member of the male population around her finger. Another new inductee into the Temperance Brennan fan club. At least this one was young enough that Booth wouldn't have to worry about her returning the interest. Booth raised his arm and snapped his fingers to distract Gil's focus on Brennan and they both noticed how he flinched instinctively, as though he thought Booth might strike him.

"Hey Gil. Anyone besides you and your dad live here?" he asked.

"No." He turned back to Brennan. "Is he allowed to ask me that?"

"He's just wanting to know if there's anyone else here who isn't a minor that we could talk to while we wait. It's a fairly big house. Four bedroom?" Gil nodded. "That seems like a lot of house for just two people, that's all."

"Oh, well my sister Cynthia used to live with us too, but she moved out a few months ago to go live with her boyfriend and his roommate at their place."

"You miss her?"

"Yeah, sure. It was better when she was here, but she comes by every couple weeks to see me and we text a lot."

"When was the last time she came by?"

Gil unconsciously lifted his hand and touched the fading bruise on his face. "Last weekend. Why?"

Booth decided it was time for him to jump in. Doing so would mean that anything they discussed with Gil would be excluded from court testimony, but Booth's gut told him Gil wasn't a suspect and it didn't feel right to keep Gil in the dark any longer. Booth went with his instincts. "Gil. Cynthia got into some trouble a few days ago. She's dead. She's been murdered."

Gil's eyes welled with tears and he started shaking his head. "What? No. No, you must've made a mistake. No, she can't be dead . . . she can't be. Who would want to kill my sister?"

Brennan reached out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder and he suddenly threw himself into her arms, crying on her shoulder. She held him gently and crooned softly, like a mother might comfort a child with a skinned knee, until his tears started to abate. She had the impression he hadn't seen a lot of tenderness in his short life.

"You know what I think? I think Cynthia came over to see you and ended up in a fight with your dad. I think he probably hit her and somehow during that altercation, you picked up that injury on your face, which looks about a week old." Brennan postulated softly.

Gil just looked at her silently, like he kind of wanted to say something, but also kind of didn't.

"Your sister had marks on the sides and backs of her thighs, bruises that are consistent with someone who's been hit recently with a belt, about a week ago actually. I've noticed from your movements and how you sit that you're favoring the same part of your body, like you're also tender there. I suspect you've also been beaten with a belt."

"You can tell stuff like that, huh? Just from watching me? Like in your books."

"Yes. The books are fiction, Gil, but the science is real. I'd like to see your legs. May I take a look?"

"Whoa. Whoa, there Bones. You can't just ask a kid to take his pants off for you."

"What? He doesn't have to take them off Booth. They're shorts and they're very loose. He should just be able to pull the leg up a little and I'll be able to see his biceps femoris and vastus lateralis."

"Do I have to?" Gil asked.

Booth glared at Bones before sitting forward in the rocking chair, elbows on his knees and hands clasped loosely together while he addressed the almost-a-man in front of him. "Yes and no. We can't ask you or force you to show us right now because you're a minor. But, confirming that you have marks similar to your sister's could be relevant to our investigation so we will want to see your legs and we will get a court appointed warrant so that we can look at them and even photograph them as evidence."

Gil studied Booth. "You suspect my dad, don't you?"

"Right now, we're just gathering evidence and we have to look at everyone as a possibility. Can you tell us where your dad was last Wednesday evening?"

Gil perked up a bit at that. "Wednesday? Is that when you think Cynthia . . . when you think . . . it happened?"

Booth nodded.

"Dad was here all night. Wednesday was a poker night for him and some of his work buddies. They came home together after work and stayed probably until about midnight."

Well shit, Booth thought as he sat back in his chair. Guess that would've made it too easy. Now they'd need a new suspect. "What can you tell me about Cynthia's boyfriend?"

"Rodney? Rodney wouldn't hurt Cynthia. He's good to her."

"Still. We need to talk to him." Booth asked Gil a few more questions about how long Cynthia had been dating Rodney, where they lived, what kind of work he did and that sort of thing. By the time they were done, Gil's dad still hadn't come home and Booth was antsy to get back to the office now that Felix Morton didn't appear to be a viable suspect. He excused himself from the porch and went to place a call in to the FBI. He gave the office team an update on the situation and asked him to send out another agent to sit with Gil until his father got home and to inform Felix Morton about the death of his daughter.

Brennan watched Booth as he walked away. Then, turning back to Gil she let him know what was going to happen next. "Gil, since we've seen evidence that indicates your father physically abuses you, we are legally and morally obligated to report our observations. Someone from Children's Services will be sent out to investigate and if they believe you've been harmed, you will probably be removed from your father's care. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Gil just nodded his head, too confused by conflicting emotions to know what to say. He didn't want his dad to get in trouble and he didn't want to leave his dad either. But, he wouldn't mind getting away from the beatings.

A short while later, Booth and Brennan's relief showed up. Booth gave Gil a copy of his card and told him to call if there was anything Booth could do to help him out.

Both partners climbed into Booth's SUV in a somber mood. Brennan not pleased at the prospect of potentially sending a child into the foster system, even if he wouldn't be there long before he aged out and Booth inwardly cursing abusive parents in general, at a loss to understand how an adult could hurt a child that way while memories from his own childhood filtered through his mind.

As he pulled out of the neighborhood, Brennan could practically feel the tension and anger rolling off of him. His hands gripped tightly to the steering wheel. His jaw clenched so tight that he had a slight tick. "I'm sorry Booth. I know how hard it is for you when we have a case that involves abuse victims." She sighed. "I just wish I knew what to say to make it easier for you."

Booth felt her compassion like a soothing hand and the red haze in his mind receded back to a more manageable level. "You know what Bones? You don't have to say anything else. Let's just focus on the case and I'll be fine. Okay?" Booth meant that just knowing he had her support and empathy helped make things easier so they could continue to work, but that's not how she interpreted his response.

"Sure Booth." She turned and looked straight ahead, feeling rebuffed. "Besides, I understand that you have Hannah now if you need someone to talk to."

That's not what he'd been thinking. Hannah didn't even know that Booth had grown up with an abusive alcoholic as a father. Early on in their relationship when she'd first started asking questions about his family, Booth had simply told her that he and his father didn't get along and had been estranged since around the time he graduated college. That happened to coincide with when his younger brother Jared had moved out of their dad's house. Now that he knew Hannah better and trusted her more, he probably ought to give her more detail, but the subject simply hadn't come up before this.

Booth changed topics. "Gil gave us the address to Cynthia's boyfriend's place. What do you say we swing by there and see if we can speak with good ol' Rodney?"