Disclaimer: No, I do not own Bones or any of the characters involved in it.

Title: Yes, once again it is from another song. Has anyone seen the trailer for 'Time Travelers Wife'? That is where this song is from, by the band Lifehouse.

"The broken locks were a warning

You got inside my head

I tried my best to be guarded

I'm open book instead

And I still see your reflection

Inside of my eyes

That are looking for purpose

They're still looking for life

I'm falling apart

I'm barely breathing

With a broken heart

That's still beating

In the pain

Is there healing?

In your name

I find meaning

So I'm holding on,

I'm still holding."

Author's Note: God knows why I decided to write this now, considering I'm in an EXTREMELY GOOD MOOD. But the idea was itching to be typed out. Hence, while I have to wait another 3 hours for my Dad to pick me up, I'm going to type like a mad woman.

I know I said I wasn't doing anything with the Season Four finale, but this is also a bit into Season Five. I might have used some of the spoilers that I found out, but I don't really remember, to be completely honest. And if they are spoilers, they could be completely off base. Just in case, if you want to save yourself for the 17th of September, then maybe reading this isn't such a good idea. But it is just speculation, so I might be wrong.


P.S. I'm not used to writing Angst-y things, so I might be doing a crappy job at this. I'm just saying. :D

Also, I didn't get a chance to really read over it, so sorry if there's mistakes.

Rating: K


Time; it controls our actions, it control us. Some people receive time, while others have it taken away, and it's not a question of miraculous intervention or fate: It is just the timeline we live. I had not known what to make of my own time, torn at by my childhood and coloured by actions, so I tried to make the best decisions that I could. After the trauma of my early years, I removed time from the equation; looking at it like it was just some kind of obstacle. It was something I could tune out, forget about when I sat in bed wishing to be on my own, listening to my foster parents argue.

It wasn't until I met Seeley Booth that I realized what time actually is. It is a gift; it is what holds together the fabric of reality, and while some times are hard, other are cherished and dreamed about. Time is what makes you who you are; how you evolved into the person you are today. Time makes you see the truth, and as time runs short in its natural path, we find things fitting together. It might not be the key to life, but things just seem to make sense.

Humans take time for granted, thinking that life is this never-ending expanse of time.

We take time for granted, until it is gone.


The doors at the entrance to the hospital creaked slightly, they always had. At least every time Brennan had been to the hospital; but this time she wasn't visiting a sick niece, a wounded co-worker, or a guilty assistant. She was visiting the man who couldn't even remember her name.

She made her way to the elevator through hallways bustling with running nurses, busy doctors, and anxious family members. Going to the 13th floor was slow, but she finally made it there and kept on her straight face. Nodding at the nurse behind the glass window, the buzzer sounded, and the doors to the psychiatric unit opened. At lunch, there were few visitors, but she preferred it that way. Starting down the hallway of rooms, watching the slow movements around her. Every time she came to visit him, it was like time stopped; almost as if time wanted her to suffer longer, to feel more pain than she already does. Making the next right, she pasted the oil painting on the wall and the cart of towels, before making her way to the end of the hall. Just in front of his room, she heard her name called.

"Dr. Brennan?" She turned to see a man walking towards her, clipboard in hand. The aged doctor was the head of the ward here in the hospital, and it scared her to know how many times she has talked to him in the last week and a half. "I just wanted you to know how Seeley was doing. He is grasping most of the things from his childhood, some of the he remembered and others he did not. But at this point, he is progressing very well. He should only be here for about another week." Temperance should have been happy, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to smile. She hoped that he would remember everything, that he would remember her.

"Thank you doctor. I appreciate all the help you've given him." A sympathetic look rose on the man's face, and he smiled weakly at her.

"Of course." With that, he turned back down the hallway to leave and Brennan looked back at the door she was heading towards. With a swift knock, and a fake smile on her face, she prepared herself.

"Come in." He called out, and she opened the door slowly. He was sitting on the ed today; he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, the one he had worn in Las Vegas. She made sure to grab that one, hoping he would remember. His hair was still growing from the surgery, it was practically a buzz cut now. She didn't like that either, but she didn't like anything about hospitals, they change people too much. Flipping off the television, he turned to her and waved.

"Hey Temperance." Trying her hardest to smile, she walked to the chair beside his bed and took off her jacket.

"Hello Booth, how are you today?" He huffed, rolling his eyes, and placing the television remote on the table beside him, he looked back at her.

"I'm alright. Breakfast sucked, but I didn't complain, because they have my favourite for dessert tonight." He smiled, but it wasn't his normal smile, only the ghostly version of it. The smile that didn't have the heart he usually put into it. Smiling back, she looked back at him excitedly.

"Pudding, right?" Brennan asked, folding her hands on her lap. He tilted his head slightly, squinting at her in question.

"Yeah, how did you know?" He watched her in confusion, and she couldn't help but let out a small sigh. He didn't remember; the last time he was in the hospital, eating pudding in between saving her life. Of course he didn't remember.

"Oh, it is everyone's favourite." She replied, smiling tiredly at him. He nodded, before looking out the window beside his bed. He saved her more times then she would like have liked, but she needed him. Like she still needed him now. She would never forget. He would never remember.


She thought that bringing him back to his apartment after weeks in the hospital would make her feel better. Selfishly, she thought that putting the pieces of Booth back together would in turn help her, but it didn't. Watching him throw his keys in the dish by his door, like he always did. Watching him go to the kitchen and get a glass of water, like he always did. Watching him toss himself onto his couch, like he always did. But it didn't, somehow it just made her feel worse.

"It's good to be home." He sighed, face down into one of the couch cushions. She could barely even bring herself to smile at him, leaning against the wall in the entrance.

"I'm sure it is." She wasn't sure why she was so sad. Was it because he remembered most of the things from his past, but somehow couldn't remember the moments they would have together? Was it that this, impersonator, of Booth was some kind of walking and talking punishment? Punishment for feelings she had hid for so long? Whatever it was, it silenced her from saying much at all, and made it impossible to look him in the eyes. Because those chocolate brown eyes were empty to her, they just weren't right.

"Well would you like to stay? We could order some food or something?"

"No," she nearly blurted it out, but stopped herself in time, "you probably need your rest anyways, so I'll just leave." Anger flared inside her, not wanting to dine with Booth, when he could barely even remember half the things about her. But she knew that anger wouldn't help anything, anger wouldn't bring back the old Booth. Anger wouldn't make her love him less.

"Oh, sure." He looked at her in that way he did, when he could usually read her like a short novel, but this time it was like nothing shined through in his eyes. "I'm sure you're tired too. Next time, maybe?" She nodded, turning towards the door and away from her partner.

"Yeah, next time." She needed to get out of his apartment; she needed to get away from him. But she was in the doorway, when suddenly he was behind her.

"Temperance? I probably won't see you until we have a case, right?" Brennan could not turn around. She could not look him in the face and tell him that he used to call her everyday, whether they had a case or not. Or that he would take her out to lunch at least twice in the week, just to see her and get her out of the lab. She couldn't bring herself to say these things, because deep down she wanted him to just know. Just know, like he always did.

"Probably not." Her voice nearly cracked, but she found the will to turn around and face him.

"Then I'd like to thank you, for everything you have done to me. I'm glad I have a partner like you."

'Partner like you'. The words morphed their way into her brain, and she felt the urge to run. Partner; that was their foolish cover-up: the word behind which they would hide their true feelings. It stung, the way it fell from his lips like he was so sure that they were great partners. That she had always had his back, and he had always had her. And while this was true, deep down they both knew the truth. She would never forget it. He would never remember it.


"Everything will be alright-"

"You can't know that." Brennan wasn't sure why she was always picking fights with Booth, but lately, she couldn't seem to control herself. Maybe it wasn't her, but this new Booth. The Booth that couldn't remember why she loved dolphins, or what her favourite Thai food dish was, or the real reason why she wouldn't go to his fake funeral. This new Booth, he wasn't HER Booth. He would sit and watch her with his hands in his pockets, and sometimes she wished she could ignore his caring eyes and remember they aren't his, just silhouettes of what they used to be.

"It can always get better." She had had enough of his constant encouragement; it was annoying. She didn't want to act like everything was all right; that they were still partner and nothing had happened. Something had happened, and she wasn't about to forget that. Anyone who could was spitting in the face of the old Booth.

"Brennan." He went to place his hand on her arm, and her eyes flooded with tears at his touch. Booth would never touch her arm, he would pull her into a hug.

"That's not my name." She said under her breath, pulling away from her partner as one single tear rolled down her cheek.

"What?" Booth went to take another step towards her, and she backed up even further, looking him straight in the eye.

"That is not my name!" She pulled at the anger bubbling over the surface, but it was too late. His confused look seemed to aggravate her more; Booth was never confused, he knew everything she was thinking.

"But everything will be okay-"

"No it won't!" She barely remembered what they were fighting about anymore, but she couldn't stop herself now. "If everything is going to be okay, then what is my name?" More tears fell down her face, but they were tears of anger. How could he not remember anything? How could he not remember that he loved her?

"Your name is Temperan-"

"No! What is my name? What is the name you gave me that no one else was allowed to call me? If everything is going to be okay, then you must know my name!" He stood uncomfortably still while she was farther away than necessary, tears streaming down her face and her breathing hitched.

"I- I don't know." He said to her quietly, before looking down at the ground.

"It's Bones. You called me Bones." She said, her voice finally calm, but her stare menacing.

"I'm sorry-"

"Get out." It was quiet, but she knew he would hear it. With one last look, he went to touch her hand, before she took another step back, anger soaring in her.

"I SAID GET OUT!" Without another word, he left the room, and she fell onto the floor in tears.

She would never forget. He would never remember.