Don't Own.

Special Agent Seeley Booth did a double take from the window on his way to his office. Inside sat his partner and Gil. He stood for a moment before shaking his head.

This case was a strange one, but that was hardly new. Strange to him usually meant normal in this world. This was hardly the craziest case he'd worked, not aywhere even near the top. So that wasn't the real problem.

They were all reliving high school a little with this one, old memories. He smiled, picturing each of the squints and how they must have been in those days. And then Booth thought of his own memories.

Booth could remember details of many things. He remembered high school, remembered being popular, remembered dates, games, cheating on papers, pulling pranks. He remembered the halls, the teachers, the friends. He remembered it.

But it didn't feel right either. Like they were false memories of someone else somehow.

They fit him. They were his memories. He remembered them. So why was it is all seemed so... wrong?

The guy sitting in his office made him all the more confused. He was another fmailiar face, but he knew that was next to impossible. He felt like he should know him... but how and why?

And it wasn't like he knew him, the man in there, but... Booth sighed. What did he mean? He just felt everything was familiar but so wrong. Images of a book store were fuzzy, protecting someone, a sharp pain... but that was all.

And it made zero sense.

He didn't have time to think about that anymore though. There was a dead kid to figure that story out.