Just a little announcement regarding this sequel. This is fiction - in the real world, anyone suffering from any type of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder should see a doctor without delay. I do not in any way, shape or form recommend attempting to treat someone suffering from a PTSD.

Having said that, here is the first chapter of the sequel to Retrieval, and it picks up a short time after the other story ends. You really should read Retrieval first, everything in this story will make a lot more sense if you do. I hope you like it - please review, I just love hearing from all of you! (Oh - I posted this in the middle of the night, so if there's anything that doesn't make sense, don't hesitate to let me know! Thanks!

RECOVERY

"Angela, have you finished the facial reconstruction?" Bones wheeled around in her chair, motioning as she spotted the artist climbing the stairs.

Angela crossed the platform, leaning on the railing next to the computer. "I'm working on it, sweetie – Zach had a lot of remodeling to do before I could start. But I'm getting there." Angela smiled, putting her hand on Bones' shoulder. "So, you want to go have dinner after we're done here? I found this really great Tapas place called Jaleo – they have the best paella dishes, and an extensive wine list." She draped her arm around Bones. "Whatta ya think?"

"I can't, Angela, sorry. I have to catch up on a lot of work, and anyway, I can't have wine. Alcohol is contraindicated while I'm on my medications." She grabbed her papers, limping to the stairs. "Maybe next week." She made her way slowly to her office, ignoring everyone around her.

Angela followed her progress, sighing unhappily as she saw Bones' door quietly shut. She dropped into the chair her friend had vacated, swiveling slowly back and forth. She looked up as a shadow fell across her. "Booth, hey."

"What's up – you get fired or something?" Booth leaned against the railing and stared at Angela. "Why the long face?" When she didn't respond, an uneasy feeling snaked down his spine. "What's wrong, Angela? Is Bones okay? Where is – "

She stood up and, grabbing his arm, tugged him toward the stairs. "We need to talk." She dragged him down the hall to her office, shutting and locking the door behind her. Sitting in her chair, she folded her arms. "What has she told you?"

"About what? Angela, where is she – is she alright?" He leaned forward over the desk. "Tell me what's going on."

"I mean, what has she told you about what happened to her in Dulny? Because I can't get a word out of her. I've been trying for a month now to get her to go for dinner, for coffee, just for a chat, even."

Booth rubbed his eyes, knowing without a doubt what was coming. And wishing he was wrong. "And?"

"And – nothing. There's always a reason why she can't go, and she disappears into her office. 'Maybe next week', that's what she keeps saying." She frowned, leaning back in her chair.

Exhaling, Booth leaned against the desk, running a hand through his hair. "I know – I've tried to connect with her for lunch, dinner, a drive around town, anything. She always makes excuses – and since she hasn't been cleared yet to resume field work, the only time I see her is during lab hours. I even stopped at her house a couple of times, but she says she's tired, and doesn't let me in." His troubled eyes met hers. "She won't let me in – in any way. Since we got back, she's slowly distanced herself from me. I can't seem to reach her." It hurt, having to admit that. They'd always depended on each other, for everything, no matter how serious. The knowledge that she would hide from him now, when he was sure she needed help the most, was a bitter pill for him to swallow.

"Do you think she's worried about her injuries? Maybe she's afraid she won't ever be one hundred percent again."

"No, that's not it. I was with her when the docs at GWU told her she'd recover completely. Besides, she's too much of a scientist to bitch about recovery time – she knows all about that stuff." Frowning, Booth considered the matter. "I've been thinking about this, trying to get a handle on it. She's closed off – I've seen this before. Hell, I've been through this before. She's not dealing with the emotions – you let that crap get hold of you, and after a while, you can't get rid of it without help. I've seen some guys just fall off the radar; they can't come back from it." He immediately regretted speaking so candidly when a panicked look crossed Angela's face.

"So what do we do? We can't make her see a psychiatrist – she would never willingly do that." She bit her lip, bewildered. "She's the most rational person I've ever met – but I'm not sure reason will work this time." She glanced up, her brows lifted in question as Booth stood, hands jammed in his pockets.

"Reason's not the answer. I'm gonna have to push her, maybe pretty hard. She's not gonna like it – I can't be sure how she'll react. I don't want to do this, but she's so stubborn, that may be the only thing that works." The sober lines of his face bespoke his reluctance to proceed.

She bit her lip, troubled by the expression on his face. She'd never seen him look that scared - ever. "And if it doesn't?"

Booth looked at her grimly. "Then she'll still have you."

"Further examination of the ribcage revealed unusual pitting of the manubrium, as evidenced in exhibit B. It is the determination of this office that the deterioration was caused by the application of a caustic agent, most likely – " Bones snapped off her recorder as Booth stepped in her office and closed the door. "Booth, I can't talk right now – I have to finish this report for Dr. Saroyan. You'll have to come back later."

He simply turned and flipped the lock on her door. "This can't wait." Moving to her desk, he sat, facing her squarely, observing her. She'd gained back some of the weight, but there were deep shadows under her eyes. He hated seeing her so fragile. Be careful what you say – don't screw it up. "We need to talk about what's going on with you." He sensed an immediate reaction from her, and knew that her defenses were at the ready.

"With me? There's nothing 'going on' with me." Her face was set and cold, and her tone told him that, contrary to what she'd said, she knew exactly what he meant. "I'm trying to get my work done for the day."

"Bones, something's not right – you're not right. Did you ever talk to anyone about what happened in Dulny?" Bullseye, he thought, noting the flush of anger in her cheeks. Her chin jutted out, a sure sign that she was ready for a fight.

"With whom would you have me talk?"

"Well, how about a psychiatrist?" he offered, knowing how the suggestion would be received. She didn't disappoint him.

"What possible reason would I have to speak to a psychiatrist? You know I can't stand 'soft' sciences. Besides, there's nothing wrong with me, and I resent your interference in my life." She impatiently shoved at the papers on her desk, scattering them completely.

He observed the tightening of her jaw with grim satisfaction. Yep, she's way more angry than she should be. Cracks in the façade… "You need to share what happened to you – keeping it to yourself is just gonna hurt you in the long run. If someone knew what happened –" He broke off as she slammed a book to the desk.

"You know what happened. So I really haven't kept it to myself, have I?" Rising unsteadily from her chair, she headed for the door, fuming when he stepped in her path. "You need to get out of my way, Booth." She hesitated, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. "I'm truly grateful for everything you did – but I don't want to talk about this."

He leaned in, gripping her by the shoulders. Time for one last shove. "The nightmares," he ground out, taking a chance, "how often do you have them?" He watched the color vanish from her face, and fought viciously against the guilt. I'm doing this for her, dammit. It has to be done. He released his hold, and she stood, breathing heavily, eyes on the floor. Knowing he'd pushed enough for now, hating himself, he headed for the door, looking back at her as he unlocked it. "You have to face it sometime, Bones. It's not gonna go away." Leaving her standing there was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. I won't be leaving you alone for long, Bones. We're going to finish this.