Sorry people, I know I have updated in ages (as D-no has reminded me ALOT), but Ive had exams and a severe case of writers chapter is quite sorry.

Anyway here it is.

They all spent a long time in the diner, discussing what they were going to do about Sweets. It was hard for them to face the fact that he obviously didn't want their help. Of course, they all agreed that that was their own fault. However, as much as he didn't want help, was just as obvious that he needed it. After a few hours and numerous cups of coffee, they decided that when they had a chance they would each apologise for their actions towards him, but not directly mention Thomas or the case. They would wait until Sweets felt comfortable enough to discus it. It wasn't the best plan, but it was the only one they had. Still they still had one problem…

"Um, guys, what are we going to do with the case?" Angela asked tentatively.

Their eyes shone with a sudden realisation, they all sighed in unison. Again.

"This is bad." Hodgins said, grossly understating the situation.

"We can't just drop the case," Stated Cam, the cop in her calling out, despite the nature of the work. "The bastard may have deserved everything he got, but it's still our duty to catch his killer."

Booth nodded slowly, but he still looked mutinous. He always took it personally when something happened to his people, and even though was only a six at the time; Thomas had hurt one of his people. There had been pictures in that folder. Pictures of a tiny six year old, with scars similar to those he had seen only on torture victims. He was just expected to act as if this was a normal case, not likely!

"There is nothing we can do," whispered Brennan, she had not liked dealing with the Thomas case before, but now… well, as cheesy as it sounded, now it was personal.

"Well this just sucks."

In only a few words Angela summed up every feeling in the room.

…...

"Dad?" The word felt weird on his young lips, he had only started saying it a few months ago, but it was slowly getting easier.

James Sweets looked up from his newspaper to see his seven year old son (It still gave him a thrill when he thought that. He had a son!) staring up at him from up at him, a question evident in his big brown eyes.

"Yeah, Lance, what's up?" He waited patiently for Lance to respond.

"Dad, can I ask you a question?" The query is timid and Lance looks away quickly, because old habits are hard to break.

James smiled encouragingly; he knew it took a lot on Lances part to even ask if he could ask a question. So he just smiled and replied in a calm voice.

"Of course."

"What's normal?

Ok, James was not expecting that.

"What'd you mean, sport?"

Lance just kept his eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

"Lance?" James was becoming concerned.

"The other kids called me weird, they said I wasn't normal" Lance said, his voice small, after a short pause "so I was wondering, what is normal?"

James was shocked, that was an awfully deep question for a seven year old, he'd known that his son (!) was very sensitive and highly intelligent, but this was different. Wisely, he decided not to go into the semantics of 'normality' and chose to address the reason Lance was asking the question in the first place.

He opened his mouth to reassure his son but the only thing that came out was a slow mechanical beeping noise.

It became louder and louder with every second.

Suddenly, twenty-three year old Lance Sweets woke with a shock. He had been dreaming. Flopping back into his bed, he sighed in resignation.

He remembered that day. He remembered asking that question. But he did not remember what is dad had said.

Why couldn't he remember?

Somehow, in all of this chaos, he needed to remember those words. It was as if all his problems would just melt away if he could just remember those words.

He searched his mind for a few moments but had no success.

Lance knew he would have to stop stalling, he knew he would have to face the case eventually. He would have to face Brennan and Booth, they had probably told everyone at the lab already, and he couldn't hide from them forever.

Nodding to himself, he decided to just up and get it over with. He was an adult after all, he could handle it.

However, a small treacherous part of his mind didn't seem to agree.

So what do you think?

Good? Bad? please review.