Chapter 1- Layne

I was sitting in my English class, when it first started. I was fourteen. We were going over Ellen Foster by Kaye Gibbons. It was April. We were just starting the fourth marking period. It was eight period, and school ended after ninth. We were talking about, "Chapter 12", when Ellen was talking to the psychologist.

"Honestly," My English teacher said, "If anyone ever went to a psychologist, they know how ridiculous they are. They speak in these creepy voices and treat you like you are three years old."

We all laughed as she imitated the shrinks. "Do you wanna talk about it?" My teacher said in a high-pitched squeaky voice.

Someone cleared his throat from the back of the class, "Excuse me," said the voice, "I'm sorry, I'm here for my sister, I was told she was in this class."

I turned around and of course, there was my brother Dr. Lance Sweets. I rolled my eyes, "Lance! Mom and Dad told you to pick me up after school not during school."

"Yeah, well," Lance sighed, "You left your sign up paper for the psychology class at home and it's due today, so I thought that I'd bring it for you."

"Everyone," I announced, "This is my brother, Dr. Lance Sweets, he's a," I giggled, "psychologist."

My teacher blushed obviously she knew that Lance had heard the conversation.

"Sorry about that," My English teacher apologized.

"Don't be, I get that a lot." Lance smirked, and he got that retarded look on his face when he was attracted to someone.

"You don't look old enough to be a psychologist." My teacher noted. She wasn't flirting, it was true. My brother was twenty-three. He was barely old enough to be out of college, never mind old enough to be a big name psychologist, who happened to work for the FBI."

"Well," said my brother trying to flirt, sometimes I was convinced that he was destined to live a long lonely life, "You don't look old enough to be an English teacher."

"Lance," I said, "Stop trying to hit on my English teacher, just wait in the lobby until school is over."

Lance looked at me and blushed but then looked back at the piece of paper in his hand, "Well you need to turn this into guidance."

"Can we talk about it later?" I asked. I had no intention of taking psychology but I couldn't tell Lance that.

"Well, it's due today," he reminded me like I was a child. My teacher was right; psychologist did treat everyone like they were three years old.

"Can we just talk later? I'm in class, and I like this class," Like was an understatement I absolutely loved English.

"But it's due-" he began.

"Lance," I yelled, but I didn't need to say anything more because the bell rang and I could easily run to ninth period and lose Lance in the sea of people. So I ran out the class without a backwards glance.

All of ninth period, I sat thinking of excuses, to tell Lance, about why I wasn't going to be taking psychology. When the bell rang he was waiting outside my class. His arms were crossed like I was a three year old who needed to be disciplined. I pretended not to notice, like it was nothing out of the ordinary for him to be glaring at me like that. We walked to his car. He was getting me out of softball today. This was a positive and a negative. It was a positive because it was a hard workout, but a negative because I enjoyed softball; I had a lot of friends on the team.

When we sat in the car he immediately turned to me, "So, what is going on? Why aren't you taking psychology?"

I chose the best excuse that I had come up with ninth period, "I wanted to guarantee a spot in the class so I decided to wait a year." As I predicted he bought it instantly.

For some reason he brought me home. Maybe we were going to wait for Mom and Dad, but I had been under the impression that it was just going to be him and me today. "What are we doing here?" I asked bluntly.

"You should drop your stuff off." He answered. Wow, I thought, I was planning on doing my homework at his office, but I guess he had other plans.

"You need to understand that some of the stuff you see today will be extremely harsh." He began to explain.

'I understand," I answered before he had a chance to finish, "I researched Dr. Temperance Brennan, Angela Montenegro, Dr. Jack Hodgins, Dr. Camille Saroyan, and Agent Seeley Booth, I know what to expect." I assured him.

He nodded as we headed back out to his car. I have to admit I was psyched! Hardly anyone had this opportunity. My brother thought I was excited because I "wanted to be a psychologist." I was excited because Dr. Temperance Brennan was my favorite author. I definitely couldn't tell Lance that. We rode in silence until he turned into a mental institution. My eyes widened this was not the Jeffersonian!

I turned to him, "What are we doing here?"

He laughed. I couldn't see anything funny about my question. "I don't just work at the Jeffersonian." He explained.

I knew that. I just thought, since he insisted I come to work with him we'd just be at the Jeffersonian. I didn't want to talk to crazy people, just smart people. I know how prejudice that was. Who said crazy people couldn't be smart? But I still thought it. I revisited the urge to sigh bored. I followed Lance into the mental institution without complaint. I bet he thought this would be a great a surprise for me, that I'd have the time of my life talking to crazy people. Fun! There was nothing I'd rather do, except maybe stick pins in my eyes! We signed in. Lance had a pass, and he signed me in as a visitor. We headed down a dark hall. The place was getting creepier by the second. We stopped at a room, there was a guard standing outside the room. That scared me. We walked into the room, it was extremely dark. Lance had a file in his hand; I was barely able to distinguish the name, Zachary Addy. I held back a gasp. I knew exactly who this was.

"Hello Sweets," Zack said.

"Zack," my brother replied, "I'd like to introduce you to my little sister Layne."

Oh sweet relief, I thought, he called me by my full name, not his little nickname he had for me "Little-Lanie," I waved, "Hello."

Zack nodded. My heart felt a jolt. Zack was way older than me, almost twice my age. However, he was so childlike. It broke my heart how someone, so sweet and so innocent, could take a life. He spoke so emotionless. Just logically, like a machine. But still he was like a child, who couldn't tell when something was wrong. I felt like I would cry. I didn't know why. I had never met Zack Addy before. Why did I care? Why did it upset me?

As Lance spoke to Zack, I couldn't follow the conversation. It was so upsetting to me. I held back my tears. I couldn't help but wonder why this stranger made me so sad.

"Is something wrong?" Zack asked me. I was shocked. I shook my head unable to speak without the risk of tearing up.

Lance looked at me oddly. "Sit down!" he motioned to the seat next to him. I slowly walked over to the seat next to my brother and sat, but I remained silent.

Lance looked at me again, "Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Yeah," I barely managed to say. Lance didn't buy it, but he didn't bring it up again. I knew he'd bug me about it later.

Zack's eyes stayed on me as he spoke to Lance. I tried to focus on the conversation and not on Zack, but it was impossible, Zack's eyes were glued on me. I just hoped he didn't realize how my eyes were about to start pouring tears.

When Lance finally gave up trying to prove a point that Zack obviously wasn't getting, he got up and I followed. We left the mental institution after that.

When we got in his car, on the way to the Jeffersonian, he turned to me. "What happened in there? Why were you so upset?"

"I was fine." I lied.

He gave me a look that said yeah right, now the truth. I pretended not to notice it.

When we got to the Jeffersonian I smiled. Soon I'd meet Dr. Brennan. We entered Lance's office. I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows. It looked like the offices you see on TV. Dull color, a desk, a couch, retarded toys like slinkys. "This is really . . . something." I managed to say without laughing.

"Well, get used to it." He said to me.

He really did not get it. I was never going to be a psychologist! I wanted to e an English teacher for crying out loud! But I had to keep these thoughts to myself. I hated having to pretend to love psychology. I hated having to lie to him, to my parents. Above all I hated this office. If I was even considering becoming a psychologist the office would be a definite deal breaker.

"Yeah," I lied, "I guess so." I would need to get used to it, for when I need a psychologist, thanks to my brother.

He sighed as he threw file down on his desk. "We've got a busy day today."

Yay? I thought. Did that mean I'd meet Dr. Brennan? Or did it mean the opposite? There was a knock on the door. Lance looked up and then checked his watch. "Come in." He answered.

A man with insane red curls entered. "Sweets," he said, "Look; a guy can only handle so much! I don't wanna hear any 'I told you so' s or, but this situation is killing me! My best friend is in the loony-bin! The love of my life left me! This is not a good time for me!"

"Hodgins," Lance said calmly, "calm down. No 'I told you so' s or anything I promise."

Oh my god, that was Dr. Jack Hodgins, from my research I knew that, he was extremely paranoid. Oh and did I mention filthy rich?

"This is my sister Layne." Lance said, as he motioned to me.

Dr. Hodgins turned to me, "Oh, sorry about … that, I'm Dr.-"

"Hodgins," I finished for him, "I wrote a research paper on you."

"Well, then you must know how screwed over my life is." Hodgins said hopelessly.

"Calm down," said Lance, "No need to be dramatic."

"Dramatic?" Hodgins asked appalled, "My best friend killed a man. My ex-fiancé is now dating a woman! I don't think that I'm being dramatic!"

It was humorous watching Lance, this twenty-three year old, lecture Dr. Hodgins, a man around the age of thirty. Lance was the youngest one here and it was funny to watch him lecture them.

Irony was the best kind of humor. My brother had no idea how funny I found this all to be. There's my brother, trying to be a mentor to me, and all I'm getting out of it is the urge to laugh. Meanwhile my brother thinks he's all high and mighty, thinking how respectful I am of him. Nothing could be further from the truth. I had no respect for him or what he did. I thought of my friend Josie. She wouldn't hold back her laughter. She'd make Lance feel all awkward and insecure. I personally found it funnier when he was all high and mighty.

During Hodgins's rage there was a noise. Lance looked at his watch, "Hodgins, as glad as I am that you came to talk, I have a scheduled appointment right now with Br. Brennan and Agent Booth. I'll come to the lab and find right after."

I was filled with excitement and the urge to laugh. I was excited to meet Dr. Brennan; I wanted to laugh because watching Lance was like a comedy show. Treating Dr. Hodgins like he was a child and Lance was his mother. 'Honey you go to the lab, mommy has an appointment right now, she'll find you later.'

So Dr. Hodgins left, and Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth entered. I felt like jumping out of my seat in the corner, and running over to Dr. Brennan and begging her to sign my book . . . that she wrote . . . so I guess that made it her book. Either way I had to act professional so Lance would think I was in this for professional purposes.

The two partners just sat on the couch. They didn't say a word. My brother sat in his chair and relaxed. I cleared my throat. "Oh," Lance said, "I'm sorry Lanie. Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth, this is my little-Lanie. She's my younger sister." He smiled. He couldn't help himself, he always called me that, even when he texted me, e-mailed me, or instant messaged me. It was always, "hey little-Lanie," or, "What's happening little-Lanie?"

"It's Layne." I corrected him. He had been doing so well too.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan," Dr. Brennan shook my hand. I thought my life had ended right then and there.

"I'm FBI agent Seeley Booth," Agent Booth shook my hand. I nodded otherwise I'd end up asking him something stupid. "So," Booth asked nonchalantly, "You wouldn't happen to have any dirt on Sweets, would you?"

"Who, me?" I asked, and then I realized how dumb I sounded. Why would he be asking Lance if he had any dirt on himself?

"Yeah, you little Sweets," Booth answered, "got any dirt on your big brother?"

I shrugged, "Normally he tells his patients 90% of his embarrassing stuff. However, I could tell you about the time-"

"Layne," Lance said testing, "I will take you home immediately."

That shut me up, but Booth wasn't giving up yet. "That's smart, threatening someone in front of a federal agent." Booth said to Lance.

Lance crossed his arms and sighed. I guess Agent Booth didn't let my brother feel all high and mighty. I wondered how uncomfortable this situation must've been for him.

But Booth and my brother sat down. After fifteen minutes of silence Booth's phone rang.

"Phones are supposed to be off!" My brother said, like a teacher hearing a student getting a text message in the middle of class.

Booth ignored Lance, and picked up his phone. "Booth . . . great . . . we'll be right there." He hung up the phone, "Looks like someone got murdered! Thanks for everything Sweets, but we gotta run." As he was about to run out of the room he turned to me, "Hey little Sweets, we'll talk later about . . . your brother." Then Brennan and Booth ran out of the room.

Lance looked at me and the smile that I had on my face disappeared. He kicked his desk, and the humor in everything disappeared. I was not sure why, but it left the situation as quickly as it first arrived. Then he looked back at me, "Let's go find Hodgins."

I nodded. We headed to the lab. Angela Montenegro walked over to us, "Sweets, are we being too difficult? None of Brennan's students want to stay!"

"Angela people just haven't been giving themselves a chance to adapt to this atmosphere. Don't worry about it." Lance said, "Oh," he turned to me, "This is my sister lit-I mean Layne."

"Hi," she smiled to me, and shook my hand, "I'm Angela, welcome to the Jeffersonian."

"Thanks," I said, "Your artwork is incredible! In English, we had to write about what one of your paintings may have meant, or been a story of, or the emotion you were trying to express."

Angela smiled, "That's very cool. I've never been told that before."

"Have you seen Hodgins?" Lance asked.

"No," Angela looked down, "I haven't spoken to him in a while."

Lance nodded, "Alright, I need to go find him. I'll catch you later."

Lance and I headed off in another direction. We found Dr. Hodgins examining bugs, they were his specialty. "Hodgins," Lance said.

"Sweets," Hodgins said examining the bugs.

"I told you I'd come find you and I did." Lance stated as if Hodgins didn't recall the earlier conversation.

"Yeah, well, I can't talk; Cam is working me super hard on these larvas." Hodgins explained.

Cam I thought. Did he mean Camille Saroyan? Oh God I had read an article on her!

"I'll talk to Cam," Lance reassured Hodgins. Dr. Hodgins opened his mouth then hesitated. He looked at me. I remembered how paranoid Dr. Hodgins was.

"Layne," Lance asked me, "Can you go into my office and put the files on my desk away in the file cabinet?"

"Sure," I agreed. Bummer. I would've really enjoyed seeing the comedy show again.

I headed back to my brother's office. "Hey!" I heard someone call after me. I immediately turned around and there was Dr. Camille Saroyan walking right at me. "Excuse me," she asked me, "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"I'm Layne Sweets, Lance's little sister." I explained.

"Oh," Cam said, "Where is Sweets?"

"He is talking to Dr. Hodgins." I explained.

Cam nodded, "Why aren't you with them?"

I shrugged, "Lance sent me away. He told me to his office and put some stuff away."

"Right," said Cam, "Well, I guess you can do that."

"Thanks," I said. I left Dr. Saroyan and went into my brother's office. I picked up a file. It was Zack's file. I sighed as I headed over to the file cabinet. I tried to open the draw, it was stuck. I pulled harder, it didn't budge. I pulled even harder. Nothing. One more try. It shot open and hit me in the stomach. I dropped the file instantaneously out of pain. I bent down and picked up the file that was now open. I couldn't resist the urge to read. Although I knew his story I couldn't resist an insiders report on it.

First were the basics:

Light brown hair

Brown Eyes

27 years old

Interesting Bass voice

Nickname "King Of The Lab"

Dr. Brennan's old assistant

Logical mind

Apprentice to the Gormogon

Stabbed a person in the heart.

Suddenly I heard my brother enter the office. I quickly shut the file and put it in the cabinet.

"Hey," Lance said, "you got exactly one file put away."

"Yeah," I said, "The cabinet got stuck."

He sighed, "It tends to do that."

"Yeah," I sighed, "I found that out the hard way."

He burrowed his eyebrows, "Huh?"

"I pulled it out a little too hard and it banged into my stomach." I explained my clumsiness.

My brother shook his head, "That's my little-Lanie."

I sighed, "Lance I have a question."

"Shoot," Lance said sitting at his desk.

"Did . . . Zack really kill someone?" I asked.

"That's what he confessed to." Lance said.

"Why?" I asked it as more of a rhetorical question, but Lance answered it anyway.

"The logic made sense to him." Lance said curtly. He changed the subject, "Hoe has school been?"

"Fine," I said, "What logic?" I brought back the Zack subject.

"I'd rather we didn't talk about it." Lance dismissed me.

"Okay," I said, "Do you really think he did it?"

"He confessed to it! Why would he lie?" Lance said.

"It just doesn't seem like this guy's a murderer." I insisted.

"Well, he confessed to killing the man. That's what happened." Lance answered, "Now can we please talk about something happy?"

"Like me telling Agent Booth all your secrets?" I teased.

"Right, you do that and I'll take you home and won't bring you back here ever again." Lance threatened.

"Well, what if he needs to know, for like a case or something?" I asked.

"Then you get a lawyer." Lance replied.

"Fine," I groaned, "You win."

Lance smirked, "I always do."

"So, what did Dr. Hodgins want?" I asked interested.

"I'm not allowed to tell you that." Lance explained, "It's nothing personal, it's just a little thing called Doctor-Patient-Confidentiality."

"Right," I said, "I understand. Totally."

"So, I figure we finish up here, and then head over to Carvel, I'll get you sherbet. Orange? That's still your favorite right?"

"Yup," I sighed, "Lance, why did you bring me here? I'm really appreciative of it, but I don't understand why. It's not like we've done anything aside from talk to a few people. And that was all you."

"Well, I thought it'd be nice for you to see how psychologists operate. Get an idea of what it's like." Lance explained.

"Right, yeah, thanks." I said.

"How about next time you can talk to some of my patients. I'll be there of course putting my two cents in, but the point is, it'll give you some good on the job training." Lance said. This got him excited, "Oh, I'd better call Mom and Dad. We can plan it all right now!"

"Cool," I said. I was excited to know that I'd be coming back here, but not that I'd actually have to guide these people.

So Lance called our parents and arranged for me to come back in two weeks. "This is gonna be great! It'll be just like when you'd visit me in college."

"Yeah," I sighed, "fun." Lance used to use me as a guinea pig in college for his projects. Sure it was fun. I was little. I had fun eating sugar for research, or staying up all night and watch TV. Some of the experiments were nerve wracking, like if tight hair styles aggravated children. The answer was yes. But I could've told him that without him having Mom put my hair in an extremely tight ponytail. A lot of times he made me take tests, like Math, English, Social Studies, Science, and he'd make me take them twice. Once before the experiment and once after his stupid little experiment. Normally I enjoyed the experiments, not the tests.

"So," I said, "any girlfriends?" I knew about Daisy. He dated her until he found out that she was engaged to another man. I met Daisy, I never really liked her, and when I found out about her being engaged all I thought was poor Lance and good riddance.

"Nope," he said, "not recently. What about you, any boyfriends?"

"Yeah, right," I answered.

"Oh," Lance said, "What makes you say that?"

"Um it's just too much work sometimes." I said, "And besides, I'm happy. I don't need a guy."

"So, who broke your heart?" Lance asked.

"No one," I said, "maybe I'm okay with being single. Are you okay with being single?"

"Yes, considering the way my last relationship ended." Lance said.

"Don't pull that!" I said, "That's what you get for not being cautious! You're just lucky that she didn't get pregnant with your baby. That would be very bad. Maybe you're that one with the broken heart, not me."

"I've seemed to have touched a nerve." Lance said cocky.

"Well maybe you're just in denial." I shot back at him.

"See, that is great stuff! You'll be a great psychologist!" He supported me. He didn't get that I was fighting with him, actually fighting with him not just joking around.

"Hey," said Lance, "Let's head over to Carvel and then I'll take you home."

"Okay," I sighed.

Lance and I left the Jeffersonian. I couldn't get Zack's brown eyes starring at me out of my head for some reason. I had not yet realized that I was doomed, but maybe it would've helped to have some warning.

8