Chapter 5:

"You do this a lot?" Booth asked as Dean finished bandaging his wound.

Dean sighed, hesitated. "We've got some experience with injuries, yea."

"So. Hunters."

"Ya."

"I trust Bones with my life, so if she believes you, I believe you."

"Why do you call her Bones?" Dean asked.

Booth smiled. "Forensic anthropologist." Dean stared at him blankly. "She identifies skeletal remains, helps me with cases, stuff like that."

"She's smart," Dean stated. "I could tell that right off the bat."

"Yea. I need subtitles when I walk in her lab," Booth muttered.

"All done," Dean said, taking a plastic bag and putting the bloodied towels and gauze into it, putting away the first aid kit.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Booth stood up, folding his arms as he stared at Dean. "So. It looks like Bones isn't really interested in learning about this stuff, but…."

Dean looked up to him, shutting the back passenger door, and leaned back against the car. "You sure?" he asked, looking him over.

Booth hesitated, then nodded. "Yea."

"How about this? How about we load up what we need and start off. Then you can ask all the questions you want."

"Sounds good," Booth replied. "What exactly are we loading up on?"

"What kind of piece are you carrying?" Dean asked.

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Brennan and Sam sat, on the side of the road, silent for a few minutes before Brennan spoke up. "What exactly is it that you and your brother do?"



Sam glanced over to her. "You sure you want to know? I mean before you said—."

"I know what I said before." She paused. "Booth is a Catholic. He…believes in God. He believes in miracles. We've had more than one debate about the subject. But I…I was raised to believe in science. In what I can see."

"Actually, that's Dean's attitude as well."

Brennan glanced over to him. "How is that possible?"

"We had a job last year in, ah…Rhode Island. There was a woman who said she killed a man because she was told to by God. We caught wind of it and it turned out this was the second murder that happened in the area where the person said they were on a mission from God. We found out that one of the victims had murdered someone and buried them in their basement and the other was planning on meeting a thirteen year old girl that he'd been chatting with on the internet. So they were both…bad guys. Dean and I butted heads a bit because…I thought there was a possibility it could be an avenging angel. Dean said…he said there is no higher power. There is no God. There's just chaos and violence and…random unpredictable evil that comes out of nowhere…and rips you to shreds."

"Our mother was killed on my six month birthday by a demon." He glanced to her. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

"No…keep going," she murmured.

"Dean was four…when it happened. He told me that when she tucked him in every night, she used to say…angels are watching over us. That they're…protecting us. That was actually the last thing she ever said to him. But Dean's attitude was that she was wrong. That there was…nothing protecting her from that demon. He refused to believe in angels because he'd never seen one. I guess with all that we see, all the evil out there, I desperately wanted to believe that there was some greater good too."

"That is understandable," Brennan replied quietly. "The human psyche can only handle so much evil. For you to be exposed to what you're exposed to, to want to believe in a God or angels is understandable." She hesitated. "What ended up being the cause of the murders?"

"It was just a spirit," Sam sighed. "Just the spirit of a pastor who'd been killed, thinking that by influencing people, by making good people kill bad people, he was ridding the world of evil."

"Spirit," Brennan echoed.

"Yea," Sam murmured. "Look…when I have to explain what my brother and I do to someone…to anyone, whether it's a victim of something supernatural or…whoever…it's never easy. For more than one reason. People lock out the possibility of there being something they 

can't explain out there because it scares them. It scares them to think that there's evil that we can't put behind bars, that we can't arrest, that we can't enforce our laws with. That we can't…protect ourselves from."

Brennan nodded. "With what I'm exposed to on my job, I suppose I'm just grateful that I am able to bring murderers to justice and use my knowledge to catch those who hurt others."

"Dr. Brennan, you and I are in different worlds," Sam told her. "But we do the same thing. We help people who can't help themselves. We speak for the victims. We stop evil from continuing on a rampaging path through humanity. And if once you get back to Washington D.C. you need to pretend this never happened, I'd understand that. Fully and completely."

"No," she said. "It would be irrational for me to feign innocence when in reality I am aware of what is out there."

"It wouldn't be irrational though," Sam said. "It would be completely rational. It just might not be the thing you want to do."

Brennan looked over to him. "Thank you."

Sam blinked. "For what?"

"For…understanding my perspective on the supernatural and not mocking me for it or forcing me to face reality."

Sam smiled. "No problem."