50WTKHB

A/N: It might not have been clear in chapter 26 that Hannah died, but Parker sent her to wait in line for the roller coaster of death repeatedly so it was more implied rather than (graphically) stated that she died. I did cut out a part about her head landing on the mini-golf flagpole but I thought that was too graphic. I don't know why I would think that's too graphic though. It's really not.

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"Just another regular day at work, looking at perfectly average decomposing human remains." Brennan muttered to herself, leaning over a body.

Angela walked up behind her, hands on her hips. "Sweetie, is this your way of coping? You don't need to pretend everything is fine and normal. It's not, and it's okay to say that. I know you don't seem to like letting emotions show, but I know they're in there." She rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. "Sweets was-"

"What?" Brennan asked loudly, pulling out an earbud. "Sorry, I didn't catch that. Oh! I'm working on writing a children's book. I recorded my narration of it and now I'm listening to it. You wanna hear?" She tugged on the cord that was tucked under her lab coat and held out an earbud to Angela.

"...Please tell me you aren't using the words "decomposing human remains" in a children's story."

"W- is there something wrong with that? It's part of life I don't know what we are hiding our children from. Christine liked it."

Angela was about to respond when someone barged through the Jeffersonian doors and marched up the steps, ignoring the card swipe thingie. A small possey flanked him.

"I'm sorry, can I help you? You can't be up here, Angela call security." Brennan's instinct was to step in front of the body on the table in a defensive position.

"Already on it." Angela said. She took a closer look at the man. He was a large black man with incredibly cool shades and some snazzy bling, along with an open hoodie that hung low on his sides. "Wait a minute..." Angela hesitated.

"Jeffersonian Security Services, is there a problem?" A tinny-sounding voice came through the phone Angela had dialed.

The man heard it. "Security? Really? C'mon son!"

Angela broke into a grin and told the security guard, "You guys have GOT to get down here. Fucking Mr. T is in our lab!"

There was much fuss and excitement on the other end of the phone. Angela hung up.

"S'cuse me miss, I don't use that prefix anymore. Just "Mr. T" to you."

"Yes, Mr. Mr. T sir." Angela babbled.

"Lady - it's just Mr. T. C'mon."

His possey echoed him with a series of poorly-timed, "C'mon"s.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Brennan asked, frowning. "I would appreciate it if you would keep yourself to the bottom of these stairs, this is a sterile area, and your street clothes are rather... dirty." Brennan tried to regain some authoritative position , even though all of his clothes looked perfectly clean.

"Street clothes? Lady, these are my "Angry" clothes! I'm "Angry"!"

"He angry." Someone in the back echoed, and was promptly shushed by the others.

Suddenly the entire security crew burst through the side doors, jumping over each other. "It's really him!" They all ran up to him but didn't get any closer out of 'spect.

One of the security guards however didn't realize what was going on, and walked right up the steps.

"Hannah? Hannah Burley?" Brennan asked in surprise.

"Yeah?" Hannah asked.

"How did you get hired as security here, I thought you were a journalist." Brennan gestured to Hannah's security uniform.

"I don't work here; these are my street clothes."

"Listen up, y'all!" Mr T said loudly, causing immediate silence. "I am here for one reason. I heard rumors that Sweets is dead? Somebody wanna debunk this rumor right quick because I'm not caught up on my DVR yet."

"It's true." Angela said, pain in her voice. "He's gone."

"Like, fired, off the show? For good?" Mr T asked.

"What show? He died a few days ago. For good."

"They always come back in flashbacks." A possey member reassured Mr T.

"He was my favorite character! Where is he now?"

"I told you, he's dead. In the cemetery a few blocks past the courthouse."

"Lemme just straighten a thing out real quick here." He looked around, grabbed Hannah Burley, and ran out of the building. He ran a couple blocks past the court house and found the tombstone marked "Lance Sweets". Mr T quickly dug up the coffin, pried it open, took Sweets's body out, and switched it out with Hannah's. He buried the coffin, turned the tomb stone around and carved "Dis Bitch" into it with his bare hands, then ran back to the Jeffersonian with Sweets over his shoulder.

"Here. I got him. He's back on the show now, right?"

The color returned to Sweets's body, and he was set down on the floor, a little wobbly. "What... what happened?" he said.

"You hungover, dawg. You was hangin' out with my boy Shawn and his friends, tell him I said hey. And tell him not to steal another man's bling! C'mon, son!"

"Dude..." A random fan walked up behind him. "That was Ed Lover. This is all Ed Lover. C'mon."

"I... I was drunk?" Sweets asked.

"Yep drunk mhmm now get back to your little actin' thing you do."

"Wh- acting? I'm a psychologist-"

"Is this for real?" Angela asked. She covered her mouth with her hands as tears began to well up in her eyes. "O-ho my god, Sweets, we thought you were dead... you have no idea what was like and I hope you never find out."

"Why are you crying? I was just drunk." Sweets said, but Angela had already rushed down the steps (cautiously in those high heels) and threw her arms around him, practically crying into his shoulder.

"Come here, Bren." Angela urged, seeing her socially awkward friend standing uncomfortably at the top of the steps.

Brennan walked down slowly, muttering something about this being scientifically impossible. Finally, as she reached Sweets, she let her emotional walls down for just a second, "...You have no idea the pain you caused." She put her head to his shoulder and breathed in deep, letting a few tears fall discreetly onto his jacket. "Smells like 5-day-old decomposition." She observed.

Sweets just looked around, more confused than ever.

"Yeah, the pain you caused...!" Mr T wiped at some shameless tears. "It hurt, man! Don't make me come back here and do that again!"

"Your... reactions are similar to those of grief, over the loss of a loved one. Did I miss something? Is Daisy okay?" He began to panic.

"You make more episodes now, y'hear? You and that obnoxious Daisy bitch, you married, do the thing, have some kids. Understand? Don't make me come back here again.

"What did you do with Hannah Burley?" Brennan asked, since it seemed no one else cared. Not that she cared.

"Was that that bitch I ran outta here with?"

"Yes, that one."

"Oh, she dead." She dead alright. Or she will be in... how long can a person go without water?"

"Three days." Brennan said.

"Yeah. Three days then."

Brennan leaned in towards Angela and whispered, "Start the countdown timer again. Prepare the pinatas"

Angela nodded discreetly. "Should I send out the invites to the usual crowd?"

"Yes." Then she addressed Mr T.

"Thank you Mr T sir, whoever you are. Your deeds are much appreciated."

"No more killing off characters, y'hear? Don't make me have to come back. That's just rude! C'mon, son!" With that, he turned and left the Jeffersonian, his possey close behind.

As the security team headed back to their quarters, it left Brennan, Angela, and Sweets.

"...Who was that?" Sweets asked.

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