A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! I'm trying my hardest to get back on my updating game, so bear with me.

Please keep leaving reviews, and also, don't be afraid to leave requests or prompts for one shots you'd like to have me write! I'll always take them into consideration.

This is set just before Hank is born.

Thanks, and enjoy this chapter!

"What is wrong with her?"

"Angela, she started to change the day she met you."

"What?"

"Well, she sees how you do it…big, you know? Big life.

Booth came along and gave her the opportunity, but

She got the idea from you. Brennan wants a big life like yours."

-Hodgins and Angela

"Mom and Dad disappeared and Russ took off.

Suddenly no one cared where I was.

I miss that. Someone caring where I was all the time."

-Temperance Brennan

Temperance Brennan sat in the rocking chair in her daughter's bedroom, watching her sleep. She hadn't done this in a few years, not since her baby girl was a newborn, but she had recently started up again, rocking in the corner as Christine Angela Booth slept on, running a soothing hand over her bulging stomach where her newest baby was also sleeping.

They hadn't decided on a name yet for their baby, though they knew it was going to be a baby boy. Booth wanted to talk names, but Brennan had wanted to wait, which had been a surprise to the both of them. Normally, she was all about getting ahead of the game, from pre-selecting Christine's top private schools and colleges to figuring out what dinner could be a week and half from now. But for some reason…she didn't want to name her baby just yet. They had done that with Christine when she was born. Spur of the moment, from the heart. That had been…beautiful, and Brennan wanted beautiful. Spontaneous.

A slightly painful kick jolted her attention to her stomach and she smiled down at the rounded bulge, running her hand over the sore spot.

"Hush, little one." She murmured, suddenly uncharacteristically gentle. "Mommy's here. Mommy's right here. And guess what? She's not going anywhere. Never, never, ne…."

Brennan trailed off, caught in the shell shock of a flashback. She had the sudden sense that she had once heard that exact same thing before, when she was a little girl. Her own mother must have said it once, long before she and Max had gone on the run, had left her in her brother's care and before her brother ran off, too, dumping her with CPS. It was a gentle memory from somewhere deep in her subconscious, and it unnerved her as well as soothed her.

"Mama!" Four year old Joy cried out for her mother, who sleepily came into the toddler's room.

"What is it, Joyous?"

"Mama, I had a nigh-mare." The child's mouth quivered and there were big, bulbous tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. "You n'Daddy were gone and I was all 'lone an' even Kyle lef' me and I - I don' wanna be 'lone, Mama! I don' wan you ta leave me!"

"Hush little one. Mommy's here. Mommy's right here. And guess what? She's not going anywhere. I'm not going anywhere, you hear me, Joy? Never, never, never, for as long as you want me. I love you, sweet baby."

Brennan looked back at her sleeping daughter, breaking the spell of the flashback. Christine was ecstatic about being a big sister, and Brennan was thrilled that she already seemed to love her baby brother before he was born. She knew sometimes siblings had trouble adjusting, but Christine was brilliant ("Just like her mom", Booth said) and said that being a big sister meant that she was officially "a big girl". She was just ….the sweetest and every time Brennan looked at her, saw what she and Booth had made together, it brought literal tears to her eyes. How had she become so lucky?

"Lucky lucky duck, all on your own. Where in the world has your family flown?" Brennan hummed to herself, and stopped again. Where had that come from? She didn't remember ever saying that rhyme before in her life…but it must have come from somewhere. She didn't just make things up, everyone knew that. Brennan believed she didn't really have much of an imagination to make things up like that. Yet….

Another memory. This one not as pleasant.

"Look at the freak with no family! Haha, loser!"

"Shut up, Nolan." Sixteen Temperance Brennan scowled, shoving past the older boy. "I do too have a family. I'm only here temporarily. They'll be back."

"Sure they will. They just dumped you here cause they love you. Freak!"

"Fuck off, Nolan."

"Ooh, Miss Temperance Brennan's got a mouth on her. You know what they do to the kids who got mouths on them here at the foster homes?

"What? Feed em like they do every other kid whose got a mouth?" Temperance was angry. She was really angry. It was her sixteenth birthday and her family still hadn't come to get her, and she was stuck in yet another awful foster home, where the kids somehow found it cruelly hilarious that her own family had split on her. Even though she insisted they were coming back. She hoped they were coming back.

"Nah. They toss em on the streets! Ugly duckling gonna get tossed out of another nest."

And that was another thing. She was going through an awkward phase, with big bulky glasses and braces on her teeth, and the kids at this home, Nolan in particular, had taken to calling her The Ugly Duckling. It was just another name, she told herself, like how the kids at school would call her Morticia. Just another name. Names mean nothing.

"Lucky lucky duck, all on your own. Where on earth has your family flown?"

Temperance Brennan was brought out of her reverie by the sound of Christine's bedroom door creaking open. Seeley Booth's head popped through the opening, turned to smile at the little girl curled up in bed, and then caught sight of her in the corner, rocking back and forth in her bathrobe and slippers.

"Bones." He whispered. "What are you doing up, and why are you watching Christine sleep? Come on, time for bed."

He motioned for her with his hand, and she hesitated for a second. She didn't know why, but she suddenly dreaded leaving her little girl all alone, even in her own room. What was going on with her? Brennan looked at Booth, and there must have been something in her expression because his changed from a tired peacefulness to being more alert, and he cocked his head in question.

"Bones. Come on." He motioned again. "I'll make you some tea."

Now she stood up, a little awkwardly, trying to find her new balance with the weight of the child she was carrying, and waddled after her husband, still uneasy about her flashbacks and the unsettled feeling in her heart. But about what? What was she so upset about? That said, how could she not know why she was upset? Maybe it was just her hormones kicking into overdrive with her lack of sleep…that had to be it.

She followed Booth downstairs to their kitchen. She never got tired of saying that. Their kitchen. Their home. Their bedroom. Their children. She was never sure why, exactly, but she supposed it had to do with the sense that finally she had something that everyone else had. A home. A family. A place where she felt safe and loved and where she belonged. She hadn't had that in…a very long time before she met Booth. Fell in love, had their first child and now their second…

She absentmindedly took a seat at the counter while Booth went around to start up the kettle, which made her smile. He only ever used to kettle to make her tea. Booth thought it was too old fashioned, that it took too long so by the time the tea was ready, nobody wanted any anymore, but Brennan loved it. It soothed her, the slow motions of filling it with water, letting it come to a steady boil. It reminded her of her mother, how she would make tea when Brennan was upset.

"I'll tell you what, Tempe. You can scream and rant and swear all you wish in the time it takes for me to make a cup of tea."

"That'll be five minutes, Mom. I can't possibly get everything out in five minutes! I'm just so - so angry!"

"Temperance Brennan, do I look like your father? I'm going to show you how I make tea, and you can rant and yell about your thickheaded brother until the water comes to a boil. But, once the tea is set, that is where you stop and let it all go and breathe. That is the way to make a cup of tea."

Brennan hadn't understood her mother's logic. Not until they disappeared and she made her own cup of tea. She had found herself talking aloud, screaming and crying to no one (Russ was working the night shift, trying to take care of them both, of her) and when the water came to a boil and she poured herself a mug, she had suddenly found herself drained of all emotion…and somehow, feeling better than she had an hour before.

So when Booth turned the stove up, and placed the kettle on top and turned to face her, raising an eyebrow in question, she was ready to spill.

"I don't know why I was watching her sleep." Brennan sighed. "I just…I felt like I had to."

"Is this about the case a few weeks ago?" Booth asked gently. "Jamie, the little boy that went missing?"

"No." Brennan shook her head, running a hand through her hair, untangling the snarls. "At least, I don't think so. I mean, I haven't been thinking much about anything these last few nights except Christine…and this little one." She rubbed a palm over her stomach.

"Who we really should name one of these days, you know." Booth chuckled. "Instead of calling my boy "Little One" or all the other ambiguous nicknames."

"Soon." Brennan sighed. "Very soon, but…not yet."

"Bones," Booth came around the counter to press against her, a solid form of security and love, "What's going on with you? Half the time you're lost and thought, and not like you usually are, and the other half, you seem almost always ready to burst into tears. Seriously, talk to me."

"I-" She swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat. "I keep thinking…about…my family."

"Your family?" Booth said.

"My mother, Max, Russ." Brennan explained. "Even some of the foster homes I stayed at when I was fifteen."

"Okay…?" Booth paused, waiting for her to continue. For a moment, Brennan didn't know how to. She had no idea what her problem was, why she was so nervous and unsteady. She shouldn't be upset. She had a job she loved, she saved lives and caught murderers. She had a husband and a home and a family, which would soon have one person more to love, and -

And she saw it. Saw it so clearly that she stood up from the counter, shoving the stool back and backing away from Booth. She walked to the kettle, where a wisp of smoke was coming from the spout. The water was beginning to boil, and not just for the tea.

"Bones?"

"I remember what my mother used to say to me when I had nightmares." Brennan said sharply. "I haven't thought about that my whole life, and suddenly it comes back to me now. I remembered the chant some of the other foster kids would yell to me every day, calling me a freak because my family deliberately left me, calling me the Ugly Duckling and Morticia and I was so angry all the time because I hated them and I hated myself and I hated my mom and dad and Russ for leaving me all on my own. And I remember what my mom used to say when she would make tea like this, how she would let me yell because she knew I needed to vent, and when the tea was done, I would stop and feel empty and better."

"You want to vent? Okay, vent." Booth said, opening his arms. "I'm right here, listening."

"Christine is about the age Russ was when my parents had me." Brennan started. "My parents….what if we end up like my parents?"

'What do you mean? Your parents were criminals."

"I mean - my parents were criminals. Yes. But only because they thought they might be doing some good for the future. Providing something for their children."

"Bones, they were -"

"I know, okay? I know that! But just listen to me, Booth! Our jobs aren't exactly safe! We've been shot at. We've been poisoned and nearly died! Some of our friends have died because of what we do. Remember Christopher Pelant? How hI had to go into hiding with Christine for months? How that killed you? What if some sick psychopath pops up again and threatens us? What if you and I have to disappear like my parents did to protect Christine and - and her little brother? What if Christine can't handle caring for him all on her own? What if she isn't stronger than Riss was and just takes off and he has to fend for himself his entire life, never knowing what he did wrong to push his entire family away, not knowing he was loved more than anything else in this world?"

"Bones - Temperance, hey. Hey, it's alright." Booth tried to come around to her, but she backed away from him. On the stove, the kettle was shaking slightly, beginning to whistle.

"No, it's not alright, Booth. Why couldn't I have been normal? Why couldn't I have been like Angela, doing normal things like dreaming of being an artist and going to Paris? Why did I have to be a freak and have parents who made enemies who tried to kill them and a brother who only wanted to take care of me but got scared and dumped me at Child Protective Services? Why did I choose to be involved with the FBI where people wanted to kill me every other month and release poison gas and make bombs and turn my interns into killers and target practice and make me question whether or not anything is even worth it if it means hurting the people you love?"

The kettle was screaming now and Booth ran forward to lift it off the flame and turn it down before placing it on a cool burner. Once he did that, in a movement so quick she didn't have time or energy to deflect, he reached her and pull her into her chest.

"Temperance, listen to me. Listen very closely. First of all, you are not a freak. You are amazing and wonderful and unique and absolutely unlike any other woman on this planet. You are the love of my life, and if you're a freak, well then I guess I am too."

"You're not a freak." Brennan said softly.

"And you're not either." Booth said it so firmly, as if was a simple fact, like the sky was blue or grass grew in the earth, that she felt herself believe. "Secondly, Bones…I know how you feel. This life we chose, the line of work we're in, it's dangerous. And things have happened…bad things, that will haunt us for the rest of our lives and it's hard - so damn hard - to put that behind us and let it push us forward instead of dragging us down. But that's what we have to do. Let everything that happens to us become a part of us, a part of our history and let it make us better people. Christine and her baby brother, they'll see how strong Mommy and Daddy are, what we've gone through and they'll know that if we can survive all of that and all that's yet to come, then they can conquer the world, or ace that math test or ask out whatever boy or girl they think is out of their league."

Brennan laughed, despite the aching tiredness in her whole body.

"And finally," Booth said softly, "The risk is worth the benefit of a big life. The ones we love will be hurt. That's a fact and a trial of life. We can't stop it. Not really, not in the long run. But it's a risk we take, because if there's no risk of being hurt, then there's no risk of being loved, is there? Of living that big, wonderful, magical, adventure-filled life I know you've always wanted."

"Russ used to say stuff like that when we were kids." Brennan said quietly. "We'd be sitting on the step outside the house, watching cars go by, wondering if the next one would hold Mom and Dad, wondering if today they'd be coming home. And he'd talk to me, about the big dreams he had, the big life he planned to lead, and how he knew I was destined for big things in life." She choked back a few tears. "I miss him. Everyday, I miss my big brother who dreamed and called my name outside the classroom windows to see if I was alright and who was there everyday after school to pick me up. I miss the brother who wouldn't ever dream of dumping me on some smoker lady's front porch and driving off the same way Mom and Dad went."

There was silence for a long time as they simply held each other, Booth trying to soothe his wife as she broke down completely for the first time in a while, against the onslaught of broken memories from a lifetime ago.

"You know what, Bones?" Booth said after she had calmed some. "What if we name the baby Russ?"

Brennen pulled back and looked adoringly at her husband, smiling slightly.

"Are you kidding me? We'd never hear the end of it from him, and Dad would never stop insisting on changing the name to his. We'd be defending the name on both fronts. Plus, one Russ is enough for this family."

"So if not, Russ, what then?"

"Why don't we talk about that over a cup of tea?"