A:N/ Finale! Thanks to all my readers and reviewers. Angstyfluff ahead

Chapter Eight: Hope

"Bones!" Booth rounded the corner and saw Brennan, her hand to her face. He could hear dry sobs as she stared across the street. He came behind her, softly calling her name. When he put his hands on her shoulders she fell back into him, letting everything out. She sunk to her knees and Booth rocked her, whispering assurances in her ear. "It's okay, everything's going to be alright."

She could feel his strong arms wrap around her waist as he tried to find her hands. She could feel his breath in her ear and on the back of her neck. She wished so hard that she would stop crying, she knew that people were staring. She tried to no avail, and she cried harder.

Booth shot a steely glare to gawkers and they seemed to get the message and looked the other way. Seeing Brennan like this nearly killed him, but he knew that letting her grief out was healthier than holding it in.

Like she always does.

He felt her hands take his and squeeze tightly. He pulled her closer, wishing that he could shield everything from her. The strong and independent if not completely people-clueless woman he had come to know and care for trembled in his arms.

"It's okay to cry. It's just you and me now, you can let it all out," he whispered.

And she did.

- - -

Booth sat on the couch in Brennan's apartment and nervously kneaded his palms. She'd been in the bathroom for a long time. Just as he was about to check on her, she reemerged, looking as mentally drained as ever. She sat in the chair across from him, rubbing her temples.

Slowly Booth said, "I wasn't able to get the taxi's license. I'm sorry."

Brennan shook her head and said, "It wouldn't have done any good. He's most likely out of DC now. Why he would come here in the first place, I don't know."

Booth was silent; she was right.

"I'm sorry for making a scene out there. You know as well as I do that I just don't do things like that," she stated. Booth noted that if it hadn't been for the red eyes (or see for himself), he would never have noticed that she had cried earlier. She must have come to terms with all this, he thought, and Booth felt a huge weight lift off his soul.

"It's okay," Booth assured. Then he asked, "You gonna be alright?"

"Before my father left, he mouthed the words 'not yet Tempe'. Do you know what that means?" Brennan questioned.

Booth shook his head no.

"It means that one day he'll come back. Right now, I feel as if I should be hurting, that I still should be crying. But I don't. Seeing his face, something that blurred continually for over the last decade and a half…it makes me feel…"

"Hopeful," Booth finished.

"Yes…my father said 'not yet' and not 'goodbye'," Brennan finished.

A silence filled the air as the two thought about the last twenty-four hours. Then Brennan asked, "Do you think I'll ever find out what happened that night to my parents?"

Booth thought about for a second and answered, "Yes. I know you will. And I want to help."

I shouldn't draw him into this any further. He's my partner; that does not give me the right to use him for my personal issues Brennan thought uneasily.

"I can't ask you to take time from your cases because of my personal problems," Brennan said, "As your partner, I can't do that."

Booth looked at her thoughtfully and said, "You're not asking; I'm offering."

Brennan sighed and said, "Booth…please…you know I'm right."

Booth wasn't defeated. Then he said quietly, "Then ask me as a friend."

Brennan looked at him, and saw the determination in his eyes. They say the eyes are gateways to the soul, even though she did not believe in such a thing. But she saw care, and she knew then that Booth would be there for her, whether she liked it or not. Slowly she asked, "Seeley, can you help me?"

He smiled and said, "You already know the answer to that."

END