The sound of the ebony, baby grand piano filled the first floor of the empty house with sound. Her hands danced from key to key flawlessly. Her long brown hair that reached her lower back when it wasn't pulled back, was pulled into a high ponytail. She was wearing a long sleeve black and blue plaid shirt. Her jeans were tight were deep navy blue.

The phone in the kitchen rang causing her to jump out if her skin. She ran to answer it, "Hello?".

"Hey Jamie it's dad. We just got a case and we are both swamped with paperwork. We won't be home for dinner, but Dr. Sweets should be stopping by to bring you some dinner, since I know we don't have much at home, speaking of which there is a grocery list along with money near the front door. Do you think you could do the shopping tomorrow?"

She nodded before she realized that he couldn't see the gesture, "sure."

"Thanks kiddo. I have to go now, but I love you and your mom and I will try to be home as soon as possible." She hung up the phone and walked into the den. It was big with two dark brown faux leather couches and there was a huge flat screen connected to the wall. Underneath the tv housed their outrageously big DVD collection.

About 20 paces away from the fireplace, which was barely used, was a door that lead downstairs to the basement. The floor was covered by a thick white carpet and the walls were a light grey color. Once she rounded the corner at the bottom of the steps her bed came into view. It was a queen sized mahogany colored bed with blue and black bed sheets. Next to it was a huge i-home. In the corner there was a desk with a MacBook computer. And across from the bed was a bookcase the size of the wall that was bursting with books.

Jamie's POV:

I collapsed into my bed and threw my backpack towards my desk. The homework could wait, I wanted to relax for five minutes. I rolled over to face my iHome and plugged my iPod touch into it. I put it on shuffle and turned the volume all the way up to drown out my thoughts.

Playing The Dirt Whispered - Rise Against

The music leaked from the speakers an filled my ears relaxing me immediately. When the song ended I decided it was time for me to get up and clean my room. I picked up all of my clothes and started a wash. I organized all of my books, cleaned off my desk, and cleaned the bathroom that connects to my room.

Once I finished I took out my math homework and laid on the floor while I was doing it. I was happy my parents weren't home. They suffocate me, my mom is always so literal she doesn't let me lay on the floor and have my music playing while I'm working. Then there is my dad who always is profiling me. I feel like every conversation is an interrogation.

I was so lost in thought I couldn't hear the doorbell over the music which was now playing Black Veil Brides Knives and Pens. The song ended and I heard my phone ringing 3 missed calls from Dr. Lance S. "Shit." I cut the music and shot him a text I'll be right there. I ran as fast as I could to the door and swung it open.

"Hey there." He said holding a few boxes of Chinese Takeout.

"Hey." I smiled, "come in. Come in." We walked together to the kitchen.

"Your parents say hi." I reached up to get two glasses and almost dropped one.

"Oh." Was all I could say.

He got the water out of the refrigerator, "Oh?" He asked, "why oh?"

I shook my head as I handed him some chopsticks, "it's nothing."

"Oh come on Jamie you can trust me." He smiled weakly. I knew I could trust him he was like my best friend at the Jeffersonian.

I sighed and sat down, "I was just hoping I could see them. They disappear for a few days at a time and then when they come home they interrogate me like I did something wrong." I opened a box of Lo Mein and began to twirl it around in the box.

"They're just busy and they feel like they're missing out on raising you." He said, "you know they love you right?"

I nodded, I knew they loved me, but I felt like I barely knew them.

"How was school today?"

"Ha" I laughed, "same shit different day." I shrugged not wanting to get into details, all he would do is freak out and worry a lot. I had the situation under control. I could deal with it so it wasn't a problem.

"Really, hmm that's funny because I don't believe you." Once those words came out of his mouth I tensed up a little.

"What do you mean?" I asked pretending to be clueless.

"Oh come on? You seriously think I'm buying that. The limp when you answered the door you were trying to hide. The bruise on the top of your head that you tries to hide with makeup. Please just tell me?" He had his hand on top of mine. I was shaking.

I tried to get up and run to my room, but he caught me and held me close to him. "It's ok I won't hurt you. Just let me help you." I shook my head and struggled to get out of his grasp, but that only resulted in him holding me tighter.

I shot up in my bed, a cold sweat was running down my forehead. My hands were shaking. How much of that was a dream?

I walked up my steps and into the kitchen. I got a glass and two Advil to help my headache. I swallowed the pills and the water and leaned against the counter. I felt a pair of arms wrap around me pulling me into a hug. I turned around, to see me dad. I let out a silent sigh of relief.

"What are you doing awake?" He asked me not letting go.

"I woke up to a bad headache I just came up for an Advil so I could go back to sleep." He let me go and nodded, "when did you get home? Where's mom?"

He sat down at the table, "she's upstairs asleep. Sweets called us and told us that you weren't answering the door so we told him where the extra key is. He found you passed out on the floor in your room."

I looked at him shocked, he continued, "You had a fever. So he put you in your bed and stayed here until we could come over. We wanted to make sure nothing happened." Typical. Them not being here, not going to lie thought that stung a little.

"I'm going to go back to bed then dad. I'm exhausted."

I turned to walk back down the stairs but he stopped me by placing a hand on my shoulder, "you would tell us if anything was wrong right? You know we are here for you and won't judge you?"

I turned around to face him and I hugged him, "Of course Dad." He kissed my forehead like when I was little and said goodnight.

Once I was downstairs I started to think about what had actually happened. However, I couldn't remember a thing.

The next morning I woke up around 8:40. I guessed because of the fever they let me stay home. I forced myself out of bed and upstairs to the kitchen where I found Lance sitting talking to my father.

"What's going on?" I asked as I tried to rub the sleep from my eyes. I walked to the fridge to get a glass of Orange juice.

"Sweets is going to stay with you while we're working."

"I'll be fine. Lance needs to work to dad."

"Cam gave me permission. Plus I have my laptop so I can catch up on some paperwork." I walked over to get a glass out of the cabinet while my dad was giving Lance the rundown.

I wasn't paying attention and the glass slipped from my hand and onto the floor, "Fuck!" I gripped my hand, which had a big gash across my palm.

My dad ran over with a towel and held it to the wound. He picked me up and carried me over the broken glass and laid me down on the couch, he bandaged my hand and I fell asleep.

Booth's POV-

As I picked her up I couldn't help but notice how light she was. I watched her sleep on the couch, and she kept twisting and turning like she was having a nightmare. "Maybe I should stay here?"

"No Agent Booth it's ok I'll watch after her. If I need any help I'll call you. She will be ok."

I nodded, He was right I just didn't want to admit it. "I'll be in touch." My last words before I ran out of the door and pulled out of the driveway. I drove about one block up the ride before I pulled over and punched the steering wheel. It let out a quick loud beep. What was I doing wrong? Why did she look so...empty? My heart sank, but more importantly one question kept popping into my head. How can I help her?

LANCE'S POV:

She was out cold. Her skin was pale and she was covered in a cold sweat. Could it be the flu? Maybe it was just a bad cold? Was it a stomach virus?

No. None of those made sense. Why couldn't I figure it out? She's never sick. I've known her for years, but I can never really remember her being sick? Other than the chicken pox when she was little no, I can think of a time when she was sick.

I sat on the ground next to her and listened to the sound of her breathing. In an out, in and out, in and out. It was a lot like listening to a metronome. I decided to look at how bad her hand was, so as carefully as I could I unraveled the bandage and examined the cut. It wasn't that bad, about an inch in diameter, however it was kind of deep so I can understand why it hurt.

I pushed the sleeve of her shirt up so I could make the wrap more stable than Booth did. What I saw scared me.