Alrighty! Thanks to everyone for reading, fallowing, reviewing and favoriting! It really means a lot. A couple of the moments in this chapter are short and to the point to try and display the kind of 'un-realness' of it all, out of body feeling. Again, I don't own Bones, and I love you guys! Have a great day!

No, no one wanted to think about that day. Even if it was on everyone's mind. Despite the suddenness of what was happening, they all knew that part of the reason Brennan had wanted Angela so bad wasn't only because of their friendship. It wasn't only because of her slight unease around Booth right then.

Because Brennan had been here as well, opposite of Angela, her arms around her friend as she sobbed into her arms.

That day had been a case day. A normal day. Angela had come with Booth for a case, he'd wanted her to take pictures of the crime scene, when a car had crashed into the side of his vehicle.

Granted, the hero complex in Booth was strong, as it always was, and he hopped out to fetch Ange. Hit and run, the driver hadn't even cared, but then, by that time, Booth was more concerned for the artist.

After a bystander saw what had happened, she called 911 while Booth attempted to render medical aid. At the time, it hadn't looked bad, though Ange was knocked out cold. There was blood, a lot of it, but it wasn't until later at the hospital that they found out exactly what had caused the majority of it.

Twelve weeks pregnant. The crash…Well, it had terminated it. No one had known about it except for Hodgins, Brennan and, obviously, Angela.

The actual injuries weren't horrible. A broken rib that hadn't damaged any organs, some bruising. Nothing that lasted more than a little then two days in the hospital. It wasn't the physical part of the injuries that had worried them. Not really.

It wasn't only the chance of the child being born blind that would ward Angela and Hodgins from having another kid. It had been that memory as well.

At the time, Angela had reached for any sign that everything would be okay, and Brennan attempted to make it so. Of course, the awkwardness that was Temperance Brennan amazed most, but at the time, Angela had found it a comfort that her friend hadn't changed and was trying. That had been the biggest thing.

That had been four years ago. As much as everyone had hated the incident, they'd moved on. Angela had moved on, to a point.

The thing was, though, that Angela could understand the difference in their situation as her friend lay in the hospital bed. Brennan had felt the kid kick, she'd been feeling him kick for a month or more. And Booth had felt it outwardly only a couple days earlier. There was more physical evidence, which Temperance Brennan usually adored. This time, however, the evidence wasn't good. It didn't lead to a conclusion of satisfaction or knowing the whole truth. It just leads to heart ache.

"We should have a funeral for him," Angela suggested. Brennan looked up and furrowed her brows, shaking her head, trying to cover up her own pain with masking logic.

"That isn't reasonable, Angela. The mere grieving ritual is meant so share memories…We don't have any memories,"

Angela licked her lips and tried to find a way that she could explain it to Brennan in a way that wouldn't hurt as much, even though her words were like a sock in the gut. She hesitated and blinked.

"Sweetie, I know you don't like to grieve, you like to push things away, but anthropologically…Isn't it normal for societies to grieve? You just lost a literal part of you. Even Hodgins and I grieved for longer then I'd have guessed was possible…And it's a way of telling him you love him."

"The dead can't feel or know anything, Ange…"

"But you can. And so can Booth. And the rest of our family, we can all feel that you love him. It's…A way of laying to rest the way we feel, sweetie. It's more for the living then…" she couldn't finish, and choked off. Brennan, surprised, nodded and gripped her friends hand.

"Okay. Sure. If you think….If you think it'll…Help," she tried, trying to keep her own tears from spilling. It was everything, really. Exhaustion, hormones, grief. All mixed into a messy bundle.

"Okay," Angela stated, and tried to smile at her friend, to let her know everything was alright, but that would have been a lie, so she cut off and tried to stop the tears from flowing down her face.

They stayed silent for a long time, until Brennan stated, rather sheepishly, "I'm really tired…"

Nodding, Angela started to get up to leave her be when she said rather quickly,

"Please…Don't go…"

It was more then a plea, really. It was the obvious fear of a child that was afraid of being left alone. The fear hadn't come from Dr. Temperance Brennan's mouth, no, it had come from a young Temperance, a child alone in the world and fearing that she would suddenly have no one else left. Angela smiled and sat back down, biting her lip.

"I was just stretching, sweetie. I wouldn't leave you,"

As much of a lie as that was, it seemed to comfort the doctor, who instantly relaxed and leaned back. Angela was reminded of the time when they'd shared an apartment together, or the time in the desert when neither had wanted to be left alone. As Brennan fell asleep, she just hoped that Booth would be here at least twice as much as Angela would be able to.

The funeral, if you could call it that, was short and depressing. That's about the best you could get from it. Max offered to come and help out whenever they needed it, Russ had offered the same. Jared had offered his sympathies and had gone off to drink.

Every squint was mostly quiet, and everyone noticed, with a lot of sadness, that whenever Booth would attempt to wrap his arm around Brennan, she would shrug him off.

Everyone noticed, but because they were afraid to do so, no one mentioned it.

Max had come for the week to help take care of Christine.

"Grandpa!" Christine yelled eagerly as the man came into the house. He had laughed and nodded, hoisting her up to get a better look.

"Hey, Chrissy! Now, there's someone I haven't seen a while. You grew quick!"

"I been eating my veggy-tables," she nodded and Max chuckled before he kissed her on the cheek.

"Where's your mommy and daddy?" he asked, not seeing anyone around. Christine put her finger over her lips and made a shhh sound.

"Mommy's sleeping and daddy's upstairs. He was helping me make a lego house!" she said, then hushed herself. Max looked upstairs and nodded.

"Let's go help him, huh?" he offered, and Christine clapped her hands excitedly before running upstairs, almost tripping twice and going into her bedroom. When Max caught up, he glanced into the master bedroom and saw that no one was there.

Booth was on the floor, absently putting two pieces together and stacking them, trying to make it perfect and symmetrical, while Christine was putting random pieces together and stacking them on top.

"That's a great house, you two," Max said, lowering himself to the floor. Booth looked up, numbly, and nodded his head.

"Yeah! We're making a castle!" Christine stated excitedly. Max smiled and ruffled her hair.

"Where's Tempe?" Max asked, and while he meant it to be nonchalant, it sounded almost accusatory. Booth pursed his lips and nodded down, closing his eyes.

"She's in the guest bedroom downstairs. She won't sleep in our bedroom," he stated, exhausted, pained eyes boring into the older man as though daring him to confront him on this matter. Instead, Max simply nodded and started to get up.

"Do you mind if I check on her?" Booth looked down at Christine and shrugged.

"If the little princess doesn't mind," he tried to joke. Christine looked up in surprise and nodded.

"Do you think you can make Mommy feel better, Grandpa?"

"I'm her daddy. Of course I can," he tried, though he wasn't any more sure of that then he was that he was feeling a hundred percent. Walking downstairs, he knocked twice on the bedroom door before he walked in on his daughter, laying on her side, back to him.

Silence.

"Tempe. I'm really sorry," he started, walking up and trying to get her to turn towards him.

She simply curled up more, not answering and instead ignoring him.

"I know this has to be hard. But it'll be harder if you don't let people in. Come on, Tempe…Just look at me,"

At this, she whipped around and stared at him, her body quivering, eyes red. Staring at him, she could almost feel the anger radiating off of her own body.

"What, Dad? What do you want?" she asked, attempting to snarl this at him, to try and get him to leave her alone, but instead it came out as a pathetic whimper. He stared at her and shook his head.

"Oh, Tempe…"

She pulled away from his attempt to hug her and shook her head.

"Leave me alone, Dad. Just go play with Christine and help Booth out. I'll be out later," she said angrily, curling into herself, trying to stop the shaking. Max closed his eyes.

"I love you, Tempe. Okay? You can talk to me. You know that, right?" he said, but she shook her head instead.

"Leave me alone, Dad…"

He hesitated before turning around and opening the door.

"I'll be here for as long as you need me. We can talk. Okay? I'm not leaving this time,"

Once more, he was met with silence. Walking away, he tried to ignore the faint gnawing that he'd done something wrong.

I have no idea what I'm doing.