Okay well, I completely expected the reaction I got to the last chap. Many of you wrote me to tell me I made you cry (which gives me a strange sense of satisfaction I must admit, but only a little cuz I feel real bad about that too) and I also think I ruined a lot of people's new years resolutions because so many spoke of needing chocolate after the chap. But I was surprised at how many of you guys think I'm totally heartless, at least two of you are expecting suicide from Booth. Holy smokes guys, I'm not the Wicked Witch of the West Side! lol.

And A2B: No basement windows for you. POLO.

No, you won't
Cause you're gone, gone, gone, gone, gone.

Booth sat completely still on his couch in the living room. The apartment seemed dark and empty without her and he'd given up on reminding himself she was really never there in the first place. It didn't change how strange everything seemed now that she was gone. Really truely gone.

He looked up from where he'd been staring at the floor, and was surprised to find it was well past sunrise and light was filtering in his living room window.

A knock at the door was apparently what brought him out of his reverie, because it sounded again and he looked over. Long dark shadows were cast across the floor and he watched them shorten with each passing moment, he didn't seem to have energy for much of anything else. Just breathing felt like a chore.

He must have said something, because a moment later the door opened and Hodgins poked his head in. Booth flicked his gaze at him and then looked away again and it was enough of an invitatoin for Jack.

He shut and locked the door, shoving his hands in his pockets and wandering the room quietly for a while before he felt comfortable enough to join his friend on the couch. "Hey man."

He knew better than to ask how Booth was doing, that was one of the things that had spurred their heated argument in the lab the week before. It seemed like ages ago now.

Sighing, he removed his skullcap and scratched his beard as he spoke, satisfying Booth's inquisitive nature without making him ask the questions. "Angela sent me over. Her sister is staying with her so, she wanted to make sure you were…you know, alright." He finished awkwardly.

Booth nodded, appreciating the sentiment but unsure of how to react to it.

Taking a deep breath, he closed and rubbed his eyes. "Thanks, but I'm...I'm gonna be fine." His voice seemed strange to his own ears, but he paid it no mind. Nor did he notice how easily the lie slid off his tounge.

Jack's eyes made his skin tingle as they studied him with the intensity and focus only a true squint could muster. "Really, man? Because it's alright if you're not."

Booth looked at him and then away again, deciding he no longer wanted to participate in that line of questioning. "What time is the funeral, again?"

"Two."

Booth nodded and took another deep breath. He'd been doing that a lot lately. "Wanna watch the game?"

Jack hesitated and then nodded. He wasn't really a big fan of football, but something told him Booth wasn't either in that moment. In fact, if Hodgins was forced to venture a guess, he'd say, the man just didn't like the silence, and he didn't want to be alone.

So they watched the game.

---

The weather refused to cooperate with the gloomy mood of the funeral and instead decided to shine bright and warm down on the sad event.

The small gathering was made up of no more than a dozen of Brennan's closest friends and Russ and her father, who'd been let out on a one day pass for his daugher's funeral provided he be accompanied by two armed guards. Since all knew what Bennan would have said had they even suggested having a priest at the funeral, they instead took turns recalling a favorite memory of the woman they'd all loved more than they knew how to express.

Some memories brought on tears of sadness, "...we cried a little, and then we hugged. We've been best friends ever since..."

Some mixed the tears with laughter, "...and I, of course, had to rub it in. I mean, how often does a guy get to be right when he has a certifiable genius for a little sister?.."

Then, one by one, each approached the mahogany box, whispering something as tears traced the lines on their faces, hoping against hope that she'd been wrong about the afterlife. That of all things she'd ever gotten right, she could be wrong just this once. Except Booth, he layed a palm against the smooth, shiny wood but his lips never moved. It felt wrong to speak to her when she wan't going to answer back, because this time he had no doubt that she wouldn't. Without a word, he returned to his spot at the outer circle and eventually, the small gathering began to disperse.

He felt a hand slip into his and squeeze, he turned to see where it had come from when two arms were thrown around his neck, and a face pressed into his jacket. he could tell by the black curls falling across her shoulders that it was Angela. After a moment, she gave him a tight squeeze and took a step back, Hodgins' arm immediatly circling her hip and pulling her close. She clung to him for life.

"Hey." She sniffed and made a weak attempt at a smile. "You call or stop by if you ever need anything, alright FBI? Anything."

Booth nodded and held her gaze, doing his best to hide empty eyes behind a thankful smile.

"Likewise."

The others left and soon the sound of dry rustling leaves and silence were his only compainions. And still he stood, staring at the headstone of one 'Dr. Temperance Brennan (Bones)'.

"I'm glad they included the 'Bones' part. You'll have to remember to thank Russ and Dad for me."

Booth didn't look up, didn't need to. He knew she was there beside him, sans coat again.

"I thought you were gone." He muttered in a voice, hoarse from crying and cursing the sky.

She nodded, pushing her hair behind her ears, both their eyes trained on the headstone.

"I was, I just came back…to say 'goodbye'." She turned toward him then, eyes glassy and warm. "Goodbye, Booth."

He shook his head. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"Live Booth." She said quietly, "Maybe not today or tomorrow. But at some point, you're going to have to start to live again."

"I don't know if I can."

He closed his eyes as she touched his hand. "I do Booth. You can, and you will. Promise me."

He grit his teeth against the trembeling and opened his eyes slowly, so as not to cause the moisture collecting in them to fall. He managed to choke out two words. "I promise."

She nodded, releasing his hand. "I'm going to miss you Booth"

He held his breath, tears prickling at him all over again and he fisted his hands in his pockets.

"I already miss you, Bones." It was barely audible, but she heard him anyway. Leaning forward, she closed her eyes and pressed the gentlest of butterfly light kisses against his cheek.

"I love you too."

He didn't look up or look around to see where the voice had come from. She'd gone, and she was never coming back.

He would go back to work on Monday. And it would be hell. He would work with his new partner and he would get a new case, and he would go on. And it would be hell. He would go to the Jeffersonian and someday, someone else would have her office. That was going to be a living hell. But there was a bright side. One day, way down the line, further than he was capable of seeing on a cold, hellish day in December, it would get better. he knew, one day, it wouldn't be such hell.

Kneeling in the snow, heart racing and hands trembling, Booth reached out and traced the script letters of her epitaph etched in limestone for all of eternity.

We are, all of us, connected.

And he smiled.

When you're dreaming with a broken heart
the waking up is the hardest part.

END

I know a few of you were still hoping for a miracle, but I just couldn't do it. I know it seems harsh and cruel, but life is harsh and cruel sometimes and it takes no prisoners. Some might say 'this if fanfic, not life' I know. Sorry about that. I've got an angsty streak a country mile wide. But, while I do feel bad for killing Brennan, I went ahead and did it because I know Booth better than anybody on the show. Booth is strong, he's a survivor. And I know he can take it. Well I hope you enjoyed your ride on this angsty little locomotive (at least on some level) and hopefully, I'll see you guys again someday, perhaps even on a decidedly fluffier train...