This was originally a oneshot, but because Jess was so sad, I decided to make it a two-shot. This one is from Booth's POV.

Enjoy!

(This is where the line break should be)

Promises are often quite hard to keep. Promises are just hard in general. The promises you want to keep will often, one way or another, not be kept. You'll try your hardest and do everything you can do to make sure you can keep it, but most of the time something gets in the way. And then the promises you make unwillingly, the ones you don't want to keep, are the ones that are the easiest. They're the ones that seem to come naturally. Either way, quite often the result is the opposite of what you want to happen. Sometimes you don't want to keep a promise, but you feel you have to, because it's the right thing to do.

That's what it was like for me.

I'd made a promise when I wasn't thinking straight. I'd made a promise when I'd felt rejected, hurt and mislead. When I'd felt heartbroken and unwanted. When I'd truly believed there was no way I would ever be able to love again. When I'd believed I was broken beyond repair. I'd made a promise in a desperate attempt to stop it happening again; to stop me having to go through all that heartache again. If I hadn't made that promise, I would no doubt have tried again; over and over again. I would've made it my duty, my one true thing I would forever fight for. And I wanted to fight for it; God, I wanted to fight for it so bad.

I'd made that promise before I'd even had a chance to think about what I was giving up.

Now that I've thought about it, if I hadn't made that promise, I would've gladly continued to fight. Because it was worth it. Because she was worth it. The pain, the heartache, the rejection; I would do it again.

But I couldn't; not anymore.

A promise so simple, just four words, is the only thing standing in my way of taking her in my arms and professing my love for her over and over again. Because breaking a promise is hard, and it has its consequences. Breaking a promise to someone else, is different. In time, they forgive you. But a promise to yourself is another thing all together. The only person to forgive you is yourself. Breaking a promise to yourself, means losing trust in yourself. I couldn't lose that trust; I needed that trust to live with myself and what I've done in my life. Breaking your own promise, sort of leaves a hole in you, a hole that can only heal with forgiveness; and the hardest person to forgive, is yourself.

'I gotta move on'.

Not only did these words hurt when I'd said them, they continued to haunt me for months after that. In the middle of a warzone, when I should've been waking up screaming in the night after a nightmare of guns and missiles and dead bodies; I was having nightmares about the feel of her hands again my chest as she shoved me away saying, 'no'. And then hearing myself say, 'I gotta move on'; when that was the last thing I'd want to do.

Then I met her.

Yeah, she was pretty. She was smart and was a journalist writing about the current war in Afghanistan; but she wasn't her. Her dark brown hair and chocolate eyes didn't sparkle in the sun like her light hair and icy blue eyes did. She was smart, but she couldn't answer any question you through at her, and she was far too polite to correct me when I got something wrong. And, yes, she was a good writer, but when reading her work, you can't visualize an image in your mind so realistic it felt like you could actually see it. She was good, but she wasn't great.

I'd known it instantly; I'd set my standards too high. But how could you not, after swooning over her for six years.

She was nice, and it felt good to care about someone; not that I didn't care about her, I would forever care about her; but someone who cared back. So when the time came to go back to D.C, she came with me. She didn't understand why I was so intent on going to the reflecting pool before I even went home. But I had to. I had to see her, to know that she was happy. To know that my promise had been worthwhile. My promise to move on from her, let her live how she wanted to without me trying to push myself into it. Let me begin again, find happiness and love again. I know it now and I knew it then; I don't want to find happiness and love again, I'm perfectly fine with what I had.

I'd practically forgotten about her in the taxi next to me, when it pulled up about 50 metres from the reflecting pool. I'd walked hurriedly and there she was. Sitting on a bench, two coffees in her hand, looking more stunning than ever. She smiled at me brightly as I reached her, and soon she was in my arms. I'd pulled back and introduced her to my new friend.

"Bones, this is…."

I'd barely heard myself saying the rest. I was so intent on watching her face. Watching to see how she felt about this, about my new relationship. It was almost painful having to listen to her blabbering on about how we'd met, and I'd tried not to scrunch up my face when she'd called me 'her Seeley'.

She looked happy, hearing about all of this. She nodded at points, and though I couldn't hear a word of anything, I knew which parts of the story had been said, when her smile grew ever brighter. She seemed truly happy; and I couldn't put the weight of the fact that, I wasn't, on her shoulders. So I kept to my promise, keeping my sole intact whilst breaking my heart simultaneously.

"I'm happy for you, Booth."

I would leave her as she was; happy. "Thanks, Bones."

As promised.

(This is where the line break should be)

I don't like this as much as the first one, but that's up to you.

Jess, I'm so sorry it wasn't a 'happy' ending. Forgive me?

Please review and let me know what you thought.

Em xXxXxxx