Disclaimer: I own my original characters. That's all. Not Booth. Not Bones. Not any of the songs I might use. Nope. Not me.

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His little whispers - love me, love meT

hat's all I ask for - love me, love me

He battered his tiny fists to feel something

Wondered what it's like to touch and feel something

"That was the best concert ever."

"Dude, I'm so glad we snuck into that one."

"Totally worth it."

Taylor Harris smiled reluctantly at her wayward group of friends. They stood together hunched outside sharing a stolen cigarette. Behind them, the lights of the theatre bathed them in a bright orange light. The night around them bustled with the noise of bodies and cars passing by on the street.

While the concert was indeed good, Taylor couldn't quite share her friends' enthusiasm. For the past week she had just felt strange. Not that anything was physically wrong with her. Surprisingly, it was the opposite. No. Mentally, something just felt off. Wrong. It had all started when her friend Jimmy had suddenly gone missing.

She finished her drag and passed the smoke onto her friend, Michele. The other girl shook her blond hair while breathing in. "Too bad Jimmy couldn't have been here, huh?"

"Yeah," Taylor agreed sadly. This particular group of friends were known as "street kids." They had no homes, no place to go. Their days were filled with panhandling, loitering, generally causing trouble, and finding a place to sleep at night. Needless to say, it wasn't unusual for one of them to go missing for a few days.

"He's around." Tom smirked. "He's probably playing Romeo outside some chick's window."

The idea was nice, and Jimmy had done it while chasing restlessly after a girl before, but Taylor doubted it was the case.

"Hey, are you okay? You're like, sheet white." Michele said suddenly to Taylor.

"I think I need some air." Taylor admitted.

"Air? We're outside! How much more air could you need?" Tom exclaimed.

"Are you going to barf?" Michele interjected. "Because if you are, seriously, go."

Taylor scowled at them both. "I'm not going to barf. God, you two are such assholes." With that she stalked off. Across the street from the venue was a small clearing filled with trees and brush. She jogged across the street and buried herself deep within the coverage. Her head down, she studied the grass as she walked and immersed herself in her thoughts. Jimmy was the sweetest guy she had ever known. It was unlike him to take off without telling someone, specifically, her.

She was so wrapped up in herself that she didn't notice her surroundings. A sharp hit to her forehead nearly knocked her down onto her knees. Rubbing the tender spot, she took a few steps back and peered upwards, expecting to see a tree branch. Instead, she saw what resembled the skeleton of a foot. Frightened, she whispered to herself, "maybe I'm imaging it." Cautiously she moved back a few more feet. There it was, no denying a full skeleton was hanging from the tree in front of her. As if it wasn't enough, the remains were covered in the last outfit that Taylor had seen Jimmy wearing.

Her soul seemed to leave her body in her high pitched scream. Then she threw up before blacking out.

Monster

How should I feel?

Turn the sheets down

Murder ears with pillow lace

Hours later

"Booth, why are we here?"

"Because, Bones, this is a murder."

Dr. Brennan glanced over in annoyance at her partner, FBI Agent Seely Booth. "I'm aware of that, Booth. But it's three in the morning. Why can't the local police handle this?"

"Because," he threw his SUV into park and shut it off. "If the victim really is who he's been identified as, he's the missing son of a federal prosecutor."

Brennan understood what he was saying. She simply didn't care. For the last week she'd gotten little sleep. Dr. Brennan was a world renowned forensic anthropologist. In her lab at the prestigious Jeffersonian she studied bodies, determining details most people couldn't gather from a pile of bones. It had been her expertise that had brought her together with Booth in the first place. Booth investigated murders for the FBI. Together they had solved numerous cases.

However, that being said, Brennan also identified the remains of men and women who had died long before history books had been written. An ancient caveman had been sent over from the Field Museum in Chicago. It'd been sent with hopes of identifying it's habitat, as well as certifying that it was real. Brennan had been so excited over the prospect that she'd barely gotten a wink of sleep; working until she felt satisfied with the job.

Tonight was supposed to be her first real night of sleep. She'd turned in early, only to be woken by her cell phone hours later. Booth had picked her up and the two had driven into Virginia.

The two emerged from the car. Brennan set to work immediately, winding her way through the various police authorities and over to the victim. Booth followed, unable to take his eyes off the swinging skeleton. There wasn't an ounce of flesh or muscle on any of the bones. Nothing had decayed. The bones were almost perfectly white. Although, the victim's clothes were still on the body, untouched. "Um, Bones?" Booth called Brennan by his nickname for her.

"Yes?"

"Where's the rotting flesh?"

"I won't know till someone cuts it down." Brennan gestured. Within minutes the police had gently removed the body from the tree. A strong piece of rope had been tied around the neck bone. Snapping gloves over her hands, Brennan bent down to get a closer look.

"What happened here?" Booth asked the nearest officer.

"Got a call from a bunch of teenagers. Kid was walking through the woods when the skeleton literally kicked her in the head. She identified him as her missing friend."

Booth nodded. "How does she know that?"

"Something about the body wearing the missing kids' same clothes."

"Girl still around?"

"She's over in the ambulance. Understandably she passed out when she put two and two together."

Leaving the scene, Booth crossed back over to the ambulance sitting at the edge of the street. The doors were open, revealing a girl sitting on the metal edge were beds were rolled in. A beige blanket had been placed over her shoulders. From a cup she sipped water slowly. A boy stood next to her on the ground, talking.

That night he caged her

Bruised and broke her

He struggled closer then he stole her

Tied wrists and then her ankles - silent pain

Then he slowly saw their nightmares were his dreams

The girl glanced up at Booth approached. Up close he could see her clothes were dirty and torn. Her dark hair hung together in greasy tendrils. Looking beyond that, he could still see the worry in her eyes.

"Hey, look at it this way, at least you didn't pass out in your own vomit." The boy was saying as he stopped next to them.

The girl looked from Booth to the boy. Her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. "Thanks, Tom. You can go now." When he hesitated, she hissed, "bye!" The boy retreated like a lost puppy. Booth liked her already.

"You Agent Booth?" She questioned.

"Yeah. How do you know?"

"They told me you'd be asking me some questions." She sighed, blowing air up at her hair. "I told the police everything I know."

"Well, go over it again with me. What's your name?"

"Taylor Harris."

"What's your relationship to Jimmy Collins?"

"He's my friend. He's one of us."

Booth looked at her, perplexed. "One of you?"

"Street kids. You know," she looked uncomfortable. "Homeless."

"How long has Jimmy been missing?"

"Like a week now. He just vanished. He was asleep next to me and in the morning he was just gone. It was weird."

"Has he ever done this before?"

"No. I mean, not without being arrested or something." Realizing what she said, she looked at him wide eyed. "Not that we cause trouble, or anything."

"I'm sure." He cracked a smile. "And the body is wearing the last clothes you saw him in?"

"Yeah." She studied him. Tears filled her eyes. "How come the bones are… they're.. there's no.."

"I don't know. That's something we'll have to figure out. Did Jimmy have any enemies?"

She laughed sadly. "We live on the street, Agent Booth. Everyone hates us."

"Anyone stick out?"

Pausing to think, she finally said, "Mr. Travis."

"Okay, who's he?"

"He's this guy who lives next to the convenience store on Third street. We kind of loiter outside there, smoking and whatever. But he's old and crazy. He's always threatening to kill us. He's even come outside with his gun before." Taylor pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. "A few weeks ago he and Jimmy got into a big fight. They actually got physical."

"What were they fighting over?"

"I don't know. I came in the middle and just pulled Jimmy away."

"Okay," Booth was pleased with the information he'd received. "One last thing, Taylor. Where are your parents?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen them for a long time."

Booth found Brennan making arrangements to transfer the remains to her lab. "Find anything out from the girl?" She asked.

"A little. There's a Mr. Travis I need to talk to. He's threatened the kids more than once for lurking around. They live on the streets. They have no where else to go."

They both turned to watch Taylor hop out of the ambulance. Tom placed his arm around her. The two walked back to the street.

"I don't get it."

"What, Bones?"

"Anthropologically, it's the parents and societies job to take care of their own."

"Parents don't take responsibilities seriously anymore. You were in the foster system," he reminded her quietly.

"Yeah, but I waited until I graduated high school and then I got out. I didn't just run away. There's danger on the streets. Look at Jimmy."

Shaking his head, Booth said, "I think some of these kids feel there's no other way out."