A/N: I know what y'all are thinking. Didn't you just post a birthday fic for Sunsetdreamer this morning? Yes, yes I did. But it's a very special 48 hours in the Mob as Biba's birthday is today! Two birthdays in two days. That's a Mob power surge if I ever heard of one!

What can I say, B? You are my very own Fanfiction Jiminy Cricket: the animated character who sits on my shoulder, clears her throat and points to her watch. I wouldn't have half of my stories done without your encouragement! :D You are also the sociopath who captures angst better than I could ever even imagine. And while I know that this isn't as high on the angst-metER as you deserve, contrary to previous belief, I do actually have a small piece of a soul and this is as angsty as I could go without losing the rest of it completely. Lol. I hope it does the job. Love you! Happy Birthday!

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones, Mumford and Sons, or anything actually. But what a perfect world it would be if I did.

OOOOO

A white blank page and a swelling rage, rage
You did not think when you sent me to the brink, to the brink
You desired my attention but denied my affections, my affections

So tell me now, where was my fault

In loving you with my whole heart?

Oh tell me now, where was my fault

In loving you with my whole heart?

"White Blank Page"-Mumford and Sons

OOOOO

He looked down into his glass and the bartender refilled it without being asked. He still couldn't believe that he was in this position…again. The third time was supposed to be the charm. He took the shot in front of him bitterly. God, what had he been thinking in letting himself believe that anyone could love him the way that he loved them? Hadn't he learned his lesson? Clearly, something was wrong with him on a deep level for him to be that delusional. He heard her footsteps before he saw her. He knew the sound of her footsteps better than he knew his own. Pressing his fingers into the bridge of his nose, he wondered just how she had found him. She was the second to last person in the entire universe that he wanted to see right now. He could feel her eyes on him but he didn't look up as she slid onto the barstool next to him.

"Are you drunk?" It was a simple question, but it ignited the rage he was trying to shove down into his soul and drink away. He shook his head shortly.

"Relatively." He paused. "Relatively I'm drunk, meaning I am drunker than usual but no, I am not a drunk." Brennan furrowed her eyebrows at his statement, concerned for him.

"You sound…something." She said, unsure of how to describe it. "Hannah called." She informed him. Booth exhaled sharply and winced in pain at the name.

"Just…" He cut her off with a wave of his hand, unable to hear that name right now. The tears flooded his eyes but he refused to let them fall. He chuckled humorlessly at how reliably tactless his partner really was. "I really, I-I- I don't want to talk about that, 'kay? I'm just…I'm over it, I'm over it. I'm done, 'kay?" He didn't mean the last syllable to plead so softly with her, but he was desperate to drop the conversation. Even she had to understand that.

"So…what happens next?" She asked hesitantly, wanting to know what he wanted to talk about instead.

"What happens next?" He said, her question bringing him right back to his enraged state. That had been what she had asked him. What was wrong with these women? "What…" He dropped the question he really wanted to ask and tried again. "I mean, you like evidence, right Bones? Well, he…here's the evidence. The evidence is that there is something wrong here." He pointed to himself. "Now, I-I fell in love with a woman. I had a kid. She doesn't want to marry me. Well and, and then the next woman...well she's…" He didn't finish; there wasn't a word to describe her.

"Me."

"Yeah. And now…" he gestured. "I mean, what is it with women who just don't want what I'm offering here?"

"Booth..." She said, simultaneously feeling sympathetic for his pain and wanting him to understand where they were all coming from.

"No. Just, you know what, drink, drink." He commanded her, unable to hear it right now. "I'm just really…" He paused to take the shot. He slammed the glass down on the bar. "I'm just mad. I'm just really mad at all of you. Alright, I'm just mad. Okay, so you want to know how this is going to work? Okay, this is how this is going to work. Me and you are partners. That's what we do, we're partners. Alright? And I love that. I think that's great. And uh, we're, we're good people who catch bad people, right?" She nodded her head as she tried to catch what he was talking about through his drunken rage. "Yeah, and, and, and we argue and we, we go back and forth, we're partners. And sometimes after we solve a case, we come here and we celebrate. That's what we do. We celebrate. So as far as I can see, that is what happens next." He said definitively. "Are you okay with that?" He asked her. She didn't respond. "Great, because, you know, if you are, tell you what, you stay here, and you have a drink with me. Alright, maybe, uh, we have a little small talk, chit chat, and if you're not, well, you can leave." He said as his voice broke. "There's the door." He murmured softly, his heart breaking even more at the thought that she would actually do it. "And uh, tomorrow, I'll find you a new FBI guy."

"Those are my only choices?" She clarified.

"Yeah." He cut her off. "Those are your only choices." He couldn't look at her, convinced that she was going to walk out the door, like every other woman in his life had always done, herself included.

"Then I'll have a drink." She said gamely as she threw back a shot on his behalf. They both raised a finger in unison, beckoning the bartender for another round. He filled them up again and glanced at Brennan for approval. She simply nodded. But there would be no more alcohol after this. She would take over from here.

OOOOO

Brennan helped Booth into his apartment as she shut the door behind them quietly. She wasn't sure what to expect, but there was no evidence that Hannah had ever been there. Apparently, a nomadic existence left no trace evidence behind. She couldn't say that she minded. This would be easier on everyone, herself included.

"You're always honest, Bones, so be honest with me, kay? What do I do wrong?" Booth asked as Brennan led him to his bedroom.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Brennan asked as she pulled down the comforter for him and he sat down.

"Why don't any of you want me?" He asked her. "What do I do wrong?"

"We all wanted you." She admitted honestly. "Every one of us."

"Funny way of showing it." He muttered bitterly as he fumbled with his shoes. She wanted to explain, but she knew that would only end up putting the blame on him, and that wasn't fair. The only thing he did wrong was love them blindly, and how could that be a sin? Instead, she went to the bathroom and wet a washcloth for his face.

"Booth, you should know that I'm not going anywhere." She promised as she wiped a cold washcloth over his forehead. "You can't push me away anymore."

"Why not?" He asked her.

"Because you are the most important person in my life." She said as if it were common sense. "You're my partner." Booth simultaneously found himself wanting to kiss her and hating her for saying something like that to him. Instead, he climbed into bed, tears threatening to fall as he listened to the sounds of her leaving him in peace. After the door closed behind her, he closed his eyes to say his nightly prayer. Tonight, it was only one line.

"Why her?"

OOOOO

When Booth opened his eyes again, he found himself standing in a room that he hadn't been in for over twenty years. Confused, he looked around him, wondering how he had gotten here. He heard humming coming from the kitchen and despite the fact that he was almost forty years old, he nearly ran to the sound.

"Ma?" He managed to choke out the word before staring dumbfounded. The sight of his mother standing over the stove cooking was almost too much to bear. Her dress, her heels, her hairstyle, it was exactly the same as he always remembered it.

"Seeley, come try this." She said as she held out the spoon, her hand protecting the floor from drips as she guided it towards him. He was frozen, but he couldn't deny her anything so he moved forward, his feet working autonomously from the rest of his body. He tasted the marinara sauce that he hadn't had in 30 years. "What do you think?"

"It's perfect." He said. She smiled proudly and kept stirring. "Ma, what are you doing here? You're dead."

"I'm cooking for my son." She said logically. Booth just stared and she couldn't help but chuckle at his face. "Okay, if this is all in your head, you tell me what I'm doing here." She told him, wanting him to figure it out for himself.

"I don't know." He said honestly, still flabbergasted by the sight of his mother and her newfound ability to read his mind.

"You asked a very serious question." She told him, her voice hinting at disapproval. "You wanted to alter your past." She said. Booth stared at her, wondering how much she knew. "I'm well aware of the situation." She said with a smile. "I've always liked Temperance. She's good for you. Keeps you on your toes." She smiled and he felt an ache deep within his chest. God, he had missed that smile. She pushed him over to the table and sat down a plate of pasta in front of him. "Now, tell me why I'm here." She said. Booth stared at the food in front of him and when he looked up into his mother's caring eyes he suddenly felt five years old again.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Ma." He said, the emotion breaking in his voice.

"Come here." She said as she wrapped him in a hug. Booth buried his face in her neck and was hit with the smell of baby powder. He had forgotten that she always smelled like baby powder. "We'll start at the beginning and tackle one problem at a time." She informed him.

When Booth pulled away to ask her what she was talking about, he realized that the environment had changed. He was now standing in the classroom where he had first laid eyes on Temperance Brennan. It was empty, but she was standing at the front of the classroom, teaching. She was completely oblivious to the two new guests who filled the only chairs in the room.

"Do you remember this moment?" His mother asked him.

"Of course I do. It was the first time I ever saw Bones." He said as he took her in. "What are we doing here?"

"We're starting at the beginning." She said as she looked towards the doorway. Booth was surprised to see a younger version of himself slip in the back door. "This is when you first knew?" She asked more than stated.

"I don't know what I knew." He said honestly. "I just felt… something."

"Fate." His mother offered. Booth nodded as he watched his partner meet, well, himself for the first time. "Do you know what she thought when she first saw you?" Booth stared at his mother and shook his head slowly. "She was instantly attracted to you."

"How do you know that?" He asked.

"A woman always knows." She smirked. "Come on, we're going to be late."

"Late for what?" He asked as his mother took his hand.

"You'll see." She said.

OOOOO

Booth found himself in his old office. He glanced at the folder on the desk and he knew why they had come to this moment. Cleo Eller. Although, at the moment, he, or, the other version of himself, didn't know that the remains belonged to Cleo. Not until Bones did the identification and Angela drew up the sketch on the Angelator. He watched as the younger version of himself sighed in frustration on the phone.

"No sir, she refuses to cooperate with us. I tried everything. I…" He closed his eyes. "Yes sir. I understand." He hung up the phone and sighed.

"Bones refused to take my calls." He smiled at the memory. "I had to trap her at the airport." He informed his mother.

"Not in this version." She said. "In this version, you don't convince her to come back." Booth furrowed his eyebrow. "You wanted to see what would happen. I'm showing you. This is your life without Temperance Brennan." His mother said as they left the office.