"How dare he?"

*Trigger warning*

Chelsea and Booth are walking through a cemetery. It's the National Cemetery for those who were killed in battle. Chelsea yawns she was tired, after finding out that Brennan was going to be on tour for an entire year instead of a few months she was busy, her hands were full, of endless work, and no time for sleep or self-care, the day already started and she had woken up at her desk with like four hours of sleep in her system.

"I never get used to the magnitude of this place, what it's taken to keep this country free"

"All societies build monuments to their dead, to convince future combatants that it's an honor to die in battle" Chelsea explains.

"For these servicemen it was. And somebody using this place to protest the war just pisses me off. These are the lives that gave them the right. These men, they should be respected."

" If they were really respected, maybe not so many of them would be buried here." Chelsea murmurs as Booth shoots her a look.

" Are we gonna get into something here, Cherry?"

Chelsea shakes her head, " I don't see why. I think we both wish this place were a lot smaller."

They approach an agent. "Agent Booth, Dr. Swan. Right this way"

Booth, Chelsea, and the agent walk toward the scene. Jeffersonian employees are taking pictures of the scene and collecting samples. "It must've happened in the middle of the night. The place is so big no one saw the fire."

Zack is taking photos of a burned skeleton, leaning against a headstone. Booth, Chelsea, and the Agent approach.

"The accelerant was a charcoal starter," Zack says as Chelsea nods.

"We didn't find a suicide note."

"If he was a protester, wouldn't he have left a note?" Chelsea turns to look at Booth.

" Didn't need to. It's on Charlie Kent's grave. Press was coming out to do a tribute to him."Chelsea looks up and pulls out latex gloves. "One-year anniversary of his death."

Chelsea Nonplussed. "Charlie Kent?"

" He was in the National Guard. About to be drafted by the NBA when he got shipped out to Iraq. He gave his life taking out a group of insurgents to save his unit. Won the silver star." Booth explains.

" It's male. African descent. Approximately 20-29 years old. Too early to determine the cause of death."

" I'm not a pro, but I'm guessin' fire." Chelsea looks up at him pointedly.

"The White House and the D.O.D. want an I.D. as soon as possible." Agent Maguire says.

"So they can brand him a traitor."

"Why do you have to be so cynical?" Booth furrows his brows at the woman.

"I'm not cynical. It's a necessary psychology of warfare. Heroes and villains." Chelsea stands and circles around the remains. "Without clear distinctions like that, we'd never be able to fight."

" Yeah, well, I always found being shot at... was a motivating factor." Booth turns and moves away from the remains.

Zack and Chelsea are working on the remains now. "Bag these fragments of his clothing. I also want any singed plant life or debris you find around him." Booth moves the crime scene tape, fixated on something beyond.

"I'm on it," Zack replies eagerly.

Chelsea turns to stare at Booth. Booth shakes his head, standing in front of a headstone, not unlike Kent's. Chelsea joins him at his side. "What?"

" It's Jamie Richards." The headstone reads JAMES RICHARDS SFC US ARMY DEC 3 1970 OCT 26 2003 PURPLE HEART OPERATION IRAQI FREEDOM

"We were in the Rangers together. He was hit by a roadside bomb... just outside the green zone. He left a wife and two kids. The fact that he was near this—"

" You believe somehow he's still here watching?"

Booth swallows hard. " Yeah. You don't. I get that."

"I know you think he's a good man. That's -- that's enough for me." Chelsea turns back to the scene. Booth is crouched in front of James Richards. Grave. "Zack, I want pictures of all remaining tissue before he's moved."

Back at the Jeffersonian, there is A television tuned into the local news channel."The unidentified suicide victim was found at Private Kent's grave this morning. Services had been planned to honor Kent on the one-year anniversary of his death in Iraq." The Television report shows footage of Kent playing basketball.

" Ah. I used to love watching Kent play. He could fly." Goodman says.

" He made 46.4% of his three-point attempts in his last season."

"A basketball fan? I'm surprised, Mr. Addy." He smiles like a proud parent.

Chelsea walks onto the platform and turns off the television. "Zack, I'd like you to keep cleaning the bones."

"Did you see the game against North Carolina? Fifty-three points, and he grabbed 18 rebounds"

"Zack?" Chelsea gives him a pointed look, gesturing to the remains on the examination table as she puts latex gloves on.

Zack chastised, turns back to the remains, and turned on a UV light. "Sorry. Cleaning."

"It's difficult knowing Kent will never play again. Makes the war so real."

"Which is odd since it was all fiction that got us there in the first place," Hodgins says.

"So you don't think we should stand up to tyrants?"

" Sure." Hodgins Smirks. "I've been waitin' for the press to do that for three years now."

Angela shakes her head. "I can't believe you took the bait."

"Yeah. Me neither." His Cell phone rings. Goodman winces as he pulls it out, rolling his eyes.

"Oh! Press Office of Defense. Please I.D. him. This is the third call in an hour " he answers the call, looking annoyed. "Hello?" he suddenly looks tired, annoyed, and weary. "Yes. It's a pleasure to hear from you, sir. Yes, we're very close."

" All right."

"I fed his dentals, approximate age, and height, along with the rough sketch I made from the tissue markers into the D.O.D. database." Booth appears swiping his card through the security reader and mounting the platform.

"The victim had lamb about an hour before his death. Of course, it's a little overcooked now." Hodgins jokes

"He Toasted himself. Who cares what he ate?" Booth mutters as Chelsea rolls her eyes.

"Just doing our jobs, Booth."

" Big boys telling you to sweep this one under the rug?" Hodgins smirks at a very annoyed Booth.

"Just can the left-wing conspiracy, Hodgins. Probably one of your nut-ball friends here on the table."

" Don't think so. Fabric found at the scene was cotton with synthetic polymers. Dye: olive green. This dude was wearing a military uniform. He's one of yours, not mine."

"Okay. His name is Devon Marshall." Booth turns to Angela Chelsea is looking towards Angela and Booth's direction. "He served in the Guard with Kent."

"What?"

"He was there in Mosul the night Kent was killed". Devon's Photo and info were on the computer screen behind Angela.

"He was protesting?"

"Marshall could've had a change of heart. It's not like support for the war is increasing." Hodgins says.

" It also could've been survivor's guilt. The guy who saved his life didn't make it. You can't imagine what it's like carrying that around." Chelsea looks at Booth.

"I don't think so, Booth. There's evidence of damage on the external auditory meatus....here and here."

" I'm sorry, you know, but I left my phrase book at home." Booth sasses.

" The opening i the skull where the auditory nerves feed into the brain," Zack explains.

Booth looks and sounds exasperated. "So we're talking ear hole?"

Chelsea looks at Booth, looking perplexed and annoyed with him. "Yes."

"They simplify these words for a reason, people."

" Something was jabbed into his ear." Chelsea explains.

Booth slowly. "Okay, that's clear. But why?"

"There's scrapings within the cranium and marks on the inside of the parietal and occipital. Whatever was used was pushed completely through his skull."

"Someone scrambled his brain, then set the fire so there'd be no tissue left to see what had been done." Hodgins says as Chelsea nods.

" Exactly. Devon Marshall didn't die in the fire. He was murdered first." Chelsea looks to Booth, Booth's face staring in Chelsea 's direction, looking tense and grim.

🦋

Chelsea and Booth in the SUV. Chelsea is talking to Booth as she is on a cell phone. Booth stares ahead, driving.

"Marshall was against the war. They knew he'd look like a protester, so no one would expect murder." Chelsea says.

" As far as anyone knows, this is still a suicide.I want the killer to think that he got away with it. He's smart. I want the edge."

" Okay, Zack, then magnify the marks on the cranium. Call me if you match them to any kind of weapon." Chelsea ends the call.

" Y'know, I'm just gonna be asking his mother a few questions. You could've just stayed back there and played with your Bones."

" I know. Just wanted to keep you company, that's all." Chelsea shakes her hair out of her face. She had a fresh blow out, her hair was flared out at the sides of her face. It was nice and silky smooth very flat with big curls at the end.

"Company?"

"Yeah. I'm trying to be more sociable. You know?" Chelsea explains.

Booth doesn't look convinced."Lousy liar."

"I know what its like out there. I did do two tours after all, but I just think inside, you're still military, Booth. You might be too close to this one. I just wanna make sure you stay objective."

" I know how to do my job. I was doing it just fine long before I met you."

Chelsea nods. "You're angry."

Booth annoyed. "Well, because I have people all around me with opinions about the war who don't know what the hell they're talking about!"

Chelsea scoffs. "I've been in Sudan, Rwanda. For two months I served two tours one in Baghdad and Iraq. I sifted through the wreckage of 9/11 trying to help the families of the victims."

" All I'm saying is that this is just another case. That's all. It's just-- It's another case."

Chelsea shakes her head and looks away. "You're not such a great liar yourself." Booth sighs. "I'm your partner. Let me be your partner."

The partners are in Booth's office. Booth is holding a framed photo of Devon Marshall. "Did he, uh, have any troubles since he came back? Any personal problems?"Booth hands the photo back to the red-suited figure in front of his desk.

"Some days..." She sighs, looks down at the photo and then back up. " I didn't know him. He used to be very outgoing, happy." Booth and Chelsea are listening to Regina Marshall, Devon's mother, both studying her. "But since he came back, all he did was spend time with his little sister..." she nods to the little girl next to her in the seat. " take her to school, help her with her homework."

" Said his job now is keeping me safe. But most of the time, it was like I was taking care of him." Chelsea glances over at Booth. Booth looks back and focuses on Devpn's sister Kiara Again. " It was like he was scared all the time."

"Did he, uh-- Did he talk, you know, to anyone else he served with?"

"Just Jimmy. He talked to him when Jimmy wasn't in the hospital, the V.A." Kiara says.

"When he was over there, he really believed in what he was doing. He wrote us all the time, saying how good he felt seeing the people free... Voting. 'Cause he remembered when his grandpa was a young man he didn't have the right to vote." she looks at Chelsea. "When can I have my son back? When can I lay him to rest?"

" Soon, Mrs. Marshall. We just wanna make sure we have all the facts." Regina Marhsall and Kiara rise to leave. Booth, looks tired and grim. Chelsea looks at him and sighs.

The partners find themselves at the V.A hospital "I know it's his sister, but it seems odd..."Booth and Chelsea walking side to side down a hallway. A man using a cane walks by. "for a grown man to be spending so much time with a 13-year-old."

"You come back from combat, it's still all over you. You know, you wanna be around something pure, something innocent. Take you for example after you came back you taught at an elementary school." Chelsea nods agreeing with Booth. "Adults, they want you to relive it all. They, they want war stories like they're entertainment."

" It makes 'em feel better. If they hear you survived, then maybe war isn't so bad. John Wayne syndrome."

"Don't tell me you're gonna trash the Duke?"

"Wh-are you kidding? I love the Duke." Chelsea smiles.

Booth Imitating. " I wouldn't have guessed that one, little lady."

"Remember "Stagecoach?" Chelsea starts imitating. "Listen, cowboy. Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway."

"What was that? The Duke? That was horrible. That was like, Jerry Lewis."

"Was not."

Men are sitting together, talking.

" Just a couple of quick questions, Jimmy."

Jimmy, his wife, Booth and Chelsea sitting around a coffee table on couches. " I-I-I can't-- I can't talk about Devon now, man. I-I just can't."

"Why can't you just leave him alone? He's got enough troubles." Jimmy's wife says.

"I understand, okay? It's-- readjusting takes time. It's different for every one of us."

" It sure as hell was different for Devon. He's gone, man.Son of a bitch should've never checked out on me like that." Jimmy mutters angrily.

" That's when Jimmy came back in here-- when he heard about Devon." Booth and Chelsea are listening carefully. "He was doing pretty good before that."

JIMMY turns to his wife. "Baby, I can't hold a job yet. I can't even provide for my family."

" Did you and Devon ever argue?"

"Oh, no. We, we had to stick together. That's what it was all about." Jimmy explained.

"Devon would call, and Jimmy would take off to meet him. Middle of dinner, playing with Sarah-- It didn't matter. Jimmy would go." Jimmy's wife says bitterly.

"He needed me, Karen." Jimmy lights a cigarette. " Man, you served. You know what it's like when you get back. You got no one but the guys you served with."

"You and Devon would visit Corporal Kent's gravesite?" Chelsea asks

" It never should've happened like that. Not to Kent. We would go and tell him that we-- we were sorry. We needed him to know."

Booth shakes his head. " I understand."

" I don't. How did it happen, Jimmy?"

"It doesn't matter, Cherry." Booth barks.

" But, Booth–" Booth begins to stand up.

"We'll see you later, okay Jimmy?"

Karen smiles and nods. " At home. He'll be at home next time with me and the kids. Right, Jimmy?" Jimmy doesn't answer. Booth pats him on the shoulder as he and Chelsea move to leave the V.A. Hospital.

Booth and Chelsea begin walking down the hallway. "Jimmy loved that guy. He didn't kill him."

"Now you're a mind reader."

" Maybe. You want me to guess your weight?"

Chelsea shoves her hands in her pockets. " You do and you could loose a tooth. Booth, you've gotta stay objective. Jimmy was one of the last people to see Devon alive. He admitted they went to the cemetary. Jimmy could've killed him."

"Oh, here we go. I thought you didn't like speculation."

"I don't. That's why I took this. Cigarette butt" pulls an object out of her pocket. "See if we can pull any DNA from it and match it to anything he left on Devon."

" Right. If you got what you need, then why are you giving me such grief?"

Chelsea puts a restraining hand on Booth's arm. "Because I thought you could've been a little tougher in there."

" I'm tough."

Chelsea narrows her gaze eyeing him up and down. " Most of the time.

Booth Chuckles. " Do you always have to get the last word in?"

"I like to, yeah." Chelsea nods the two still staring at each other, Booth is wearing a sickly smirk. He is about to say something, but is interrupted.

"Booth!" a Man in a wheelchair, looking pleased to see Booth. "Son of a bitch."

" Hey, Hank! Hey!" Hank pulls him down and they hug, patting each other on the back. "How the hell are ya, man?"

"Great, just got some new wheels."

" Sweet ride, man. Hank Lutrell, Dr. Chelsea Swan." He introduces the two.

" The bone lady." They shake hands. Chelsea has a wry look on her face.

"That's me."

"I heard you two were working together. Booth and I were in the same unit in Kosovo. Hey you gotta come over for dinner. Janie and the kids keep asking about you." Hank says as Chelsea nods with a smile.

"Yeah, I'd love to. I'll call. We'll uh, make it a date, okay?"

" Great. I gotta roll. I gotta be in court at 3:00." Hank says, "They can't start without the judge." Booth pats him on the shoulder as Hank wheels away. " Hey, call me or I'm gonna kick your ass." With that hank wheels away,

Booth sighs. " Uh-huh."

"What happened to him?"

Booth looks exasperated and irritated. "He got hurt." Booth walks away and Chelsea stares after him for a second before following.

The partners fine themselves at the base where Marshall was stationed.

Col. Shore. stands up; Chelsea , Captain Fuller and Booth follow. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Dr. Swan. You've helped us with some casualties that we never thought we'd be able to I.D. Not to mention what you did in Baghdad was outstanding. "

Chelsea nods curtly. "Someday, maybe I won't be needed."

" That's what we all hope. Captain Fuller,, give Agent Booth and Dr. Swan all the help they need."

"Yes sir." Fuller Gestures for Booth and Chelsea to move ahead. "Please." Booth and Chelsea move to sit in front of Fuller's desk.

"So uh, this is your third tour in Iraq, Captain?" Booth asks.

"Yes. A National Guard unit can be difficult to lead. Nothing against the Guard, but usually they're inexperienced, shortchanged on equipment. But Kent's unit, they were one of the best I ever had."

"And Devon Marshall?" Booth asks.

"Marshall was a good soldier. But after he came back, he seemed to turn against the military. Saw us as the problem over there. You must've known men like that."

"Some people just aren't cut out for it." Booth says,

"Like Jimmy Martin." Chelsea speaks up.

"Jimmy's been having some troubles, but he still supports us."

" Both Marshall and Jimmy, uh, seemed like they had trouble getting over Corporal Kent's death. Any idea why it was so tough for 'em? Tougher than usual." Fuller looks at Booth. Booth stares back knowingly. Fuller looks away.

"We were on a patrol in Mosul. Intel reports indicated there were insurgents in this neighbourhood. We were canvassing the area. Private Campbell, she stayed in the Humvee as the unit headed towards a small house up the street. There were five of us -- Kent, Marshall, Martin, Lefferts, myself. It was a small house -- two rooms. I looked through the slat and saw three insurgents in the back room, one a woman. They men had AK-47s. I sent Kent and Lefferts to cover the back so no one could run. I heard the pop, pop, pop of the enemy AK-47. Kent made entry to take them out before they could get to the rest of us. Lefferts followed him in while we were kicking in the front door. When we got to them, Kent had already been killed taking out the insurgents. Sight like that stays with you. Two part-times like that, I guess it was too much.But whatever Marshall was trying to do desecrating Kent's grave, Kent saved the unit. Marshall can't take that away."

Booth flatly. "Devon Marshall was murdered, captain."

"God." Fuller runs a hand over his face.

"Any bad blood between him and Jimmy Martin?"

"Not that I know of." Fuller replies.

"We only have the after-action summary of the incident. I'd like to have the full report, Kent's autopsy, the photographs you took of the scene and any other evidence that exists."

"You'll have whatever you need." they both nod before Chelsea and Booth are walking out of Cpt. Fuller's office.

" I thought we were keeping the murder to ourselves." Chelsea was irrritated by how Booth was acting.

" He's the company commander, Cherry. He's a decorated officer."

"And you think a soldier wouldn't kill someone? Because your wrong."

Booth seems taken aback by this. "Huh, and suddenly it's your job to question the motives of everyone who served?"

"No, it's my job to solve a murder. Yours too." Chelsea Opens the car door and climbs in. "Treat him like you would anyone else involved in an investigation. You're not in the military anymore, Booth."

Booth Irritated. " I will find out who killed Devon Marshall. That's all you need to know."

Chelsea was tired, between arguing with Booth and all the endless other cases she had, she didnt want to be awake in fact she was having trouble keping her eyes, open. She wasnt mad at Brennan for extending her book tour. She just missed her, but she knew how important that book was her to friend. It was a collective project but she willingly let Brennan take most of the credit or at least as much as Brennan would let her.

"How's Booth doing?" Chelsea jumps a bit at thsound of Angela's voice. She straightens up acting as if she wasnt sleeping.

"He's angry. I think I said some things."

"Sweetie –"

Chelsea Defensively. " He wasn't being objective. I just had to get him to focus."

" You have to think before you speak."

Chelsea shakes her head. "Why? I can say anything to you without thinking about it first."

Angela shakes her head. " Yeah. Men aren't like us. They're much more fragile and needy. The fact that they think *we're* the needy ones is a testament to our superiority."

Chelsea Grins, amused. "Yeah. I guess I forgot."

Zack walks in. "Dr. Swan, the military delivered all the paperwork you requested. Private Kent's autopsy report is careless and incomplete." He hands the files to Chelsea. " There was no incison, no X-rays. So there's no way to confirm the amount of bullets he was hit with."

"The M.E. marked seven entry points but the report says there were only six bullets."

Zack nods. "I could've done better with a Crayola."

Booth Throws the folder down. "Medical reports are done on the fly in combat situations. That doesn't mean that they're falsified."

Chelsea just sighs. She was stressed out. Her head was hurting and if you looked close enough you could see her slightly shake. "Dont you think I know that...." they both sigh nostrils flared. "Booth, the report is a mess."Chelsea turns to Angela. " Ange, I'd like you to input these photographs and enhance them for as much detail as possible."

Hoggins walks onto the platform. "I couldn't salvage much flesh from Marshall's ear but I'm sending anything useful up to Pathology, see if they can match anything with the DNA they pulled from Jimmy Martin's cigarette." He Faces Angela " Were you really mad before?"

"Why? Because of your strident, paranoid ramblings?"

"I'm guessing mad. Fair enough. Can I at least give you some material to read?"

Angela Doesn't look up at Hodgins. "You could try, but you'd walk funny for a week."

Hodgins Cowed. " I'd better, uh, work on these scrapings for Zack."

"This is a murder. We know Devon would visit Kent's grave. Jimmy said to apologize. He knew something about Kent, Booth, something these reports will never tell us."

Booth furtively looks around, then looks at Chelsea. " So what do you wanna do?"

"I wanna exhume Charles Kent."

Booth Incredulous. " Exhume a war hero? Do you have any idea what you're asking?

Chelsea stares back at Booth squarely, determined. "It's the only way we'll really know what happened to him."

"The report."

Chelsea bangs her hand on the table Which startles everyone, she was irritated and tired and quickly coming unglued. "Which is sloppy and incomplete."

"He is supposed to be honored this week, Cherry, not humiliated."

"Doesn't Devon Marshall deserve as much respect and honor as Kent?"

Booth shakes his head. " I'm sorry Cherry, I can't let you do this."

"I'm not asking for your permission Booth. I can get the court order on my own. I was just kind of hoping for your support." Chelsea Walks off. Booth stares as she leaves, turns his head and looks tired and conflicted.

Its nighttime now, everyone is standing by as a dirt-covered but ornate coffin is lifted out as Booth, Chelsea , Bradley Kent, Tina Kent and two anonymous soldiers look on. Mrs.Kent, who looks heartbroken and angry as she walks over to Booth and Chelsea

"Agent Booth, I'm Tina Kent."

"Listen ma'am, I'm very sor-" he was cut off by Tina Kent she slaps him across the face.

Kent's body is on a gurney; the crew surrounding the table. Booth stands away, examining Cpl. Kent's belongings laid on the next table.

Booth picks up one of the medals, taking it in. "You know, this is a Silver Star." Behind him Hodgins and Chelsea look over towards him. Booth clenches the medal in his hand.

"I know how much you hate this, Booth."

Booth swallows hard. " Let's just get this over with, all right?"

Chelsea turns to Zack. "Okay, I want a full set of X-rays, and a clear picture of all fracture patterns"

She looks To Hodgins. ' And a tox screen and analysis of any particulates in the wounds."

" D.O.D. wants this done fast. They want this out of the press as soon as possible" Goodman Explains.

"It will take the time it takes to do properly." She turns To Angela. "Can you run scenarios on the angles and the entry order of the shots?"

"Yeah" She Leafs through photos. " I should be able to give you something."

Hodgins turns to Booth, starts to ramble. "I know we don't see eye to eye on a lot of stuff because you know, politically, I think we live in an Orwellian nightmare due to –"

Booth Crosses his arms and tensely interrupts. " What-- what are you trying to say?"

"Just-- I'm sorry, man. I really am." Hodgins Walks past him.

" I'll need X-rays of L-1 through four, and the left scapula."

"Uh, he's just a kid."

"It's always the young. Anthropologists have theorized that wars break out when there's an increase in the population of unmarried men under the age of 25." Booth shoots her a blank stare. " I'm sorry. I need to create a distance from the victim. It's how I deal. I-- I didn't mean–"

Booth Tense, uncomfortable. " Just, you know, do what you have to do. I'm gonna go do my thing." He Quickly walks off. Chelsea stares after him, looking unsure, but even more unsure as to what to say.

It had been a long few hours and the X-ray of Kent's chest is displayed on the monitor, Chelsea and Zack are going through the X-rays.

"The X-rays show that six of the bullets are still in the remains."

" I need to see which entries were fatal. Anything more on Devon Marshall?" Chelsea asks.

"We're still working on the bone dimple on his neck."

" All right. Set up a tray so we can start extracting bullets" Chelsea's hand shakes as Zack takes ntoe sending her a worried glance.

"Maybe you should take a break Dr. Swan."

Chelsea shakes her head. "I will take a break when we figure out what happened."

🦋

Time wasnt really important to Chelsea she knew it was day time she just didnt care enough to stop working not yet, not until they had done everything. Chelsea is working with a piece of evidence under a microscope. Booth had arrived a couple minutes before he was pacing.

"Their stories don't line up."

"You said the events seemed consistent." Chelsea says.

"Exactly. We got a group of traumatized soldiers who all managed to say the same words to describe the first shots. "Pop, pop, pop." It was rehearsed." Chelsea looks at him, curious. "They're hiding something."

" That makes sense." she pulls out a bullet from one of the entry wounds, squinting at it. "There's something Devon knew about."

"And someone else didn't want to get out." Chelsea pulls out another bullet, studies it and places it in a tray.

"That's all of them." Zack says.

"The way the blood pooled around the bullets these three were the ones that killed him."

Booth looks at the screen with the fatal bullets displayed. "These rounds aren't from an AK-47". Gestures to the other tray. "These are."

" Well, they didn't kill him. Circulation had stopped by the time these bullets hit."

"Wait. The ones that killed him are from an M-14." Pauses in realization. " Those are from our weapon."

Chelsea nods knowingly. " Friendly fire."

"Oh, God."

"Booth–" Chelsea begins.

Booth Interrupts. "You know what? Let's just find out who did this. All right? Not all personnel in a unit carry the same weapon. We have to find out who was issued the M-14." Chelsea nods and looks down while Booth looks aside, arms crossed.

After showering and changing her clothes Booth and Chelsea are in his car. "Lefferts was the only one issued an M-14."

"So Kent runs into the house firing. The insurgents fire back. Lefferts follows Kent in. Lefferts is shooting, and he kills Kent."

"Devon wanted to tell the truth, but Lefferts, he's got a succesful legal practice. Too much to lose. Lefferts kills Devon. Son of a–" Booth hits the stirring wheel they make it to Lefferts office. Where Lefferts is dead, hanging lifelessly from the ceiling by the cord wrapped around his neck. He's still dressed in the shirt and tie he was wearing in the interrogation room. Booth, staring at the dead man stonily. Chelsea walks into the room behind him.

Booth Holds up a piece of papers and reads. "I shot Kent that night. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. But I can't live with it anymore."

" His assistant says he was out of town the night that Devon Marshall died. He couldn't have killed him. The murderer's still out there, Booth."

The pair go back to Booth's office. Chelsea is sitting in front of his desk. "Devon Marshall was too badly burned. Hodgins couldn't get enough useable tissue to match the DNA from Jimmy Martin's cigarette."

"The one person who had a motive killed himself, but he couldn't have killed Marshall."

"The M.E. confirmed suicide?" she asks

Booth nods. "Yeah. Plus, no one was in or out of the office." he hands her a folder. " He uh, definitely killed himself."

Chelsea paging through the file. "But we still have no idea who killed Devon Marshall."

There was a knock at the door, " Agent Booth?" Booth and Chelsea look towards the door.

"Mr. Kent." Booth stands. "This is Dr. Swan."

" I know." he nods.

"I'm sorry I exhumed your son, sir. But we needed–"

"No, please. Thank you. It's important for us to find out how he died."

Booth gestures towards a empty chair. "You wanna sit?"

"No. I-I just wanted to ask. There's so many conflicting stories. Now the captain says he can't talk to us. I just wanted to ask you to find the truth. My wife and I can't live not knowing what happened to Charlie. We need the truth."

Booth nods " Of course." Bradley Kent backs out and leaves the office.

The partners head back to the Naval base Cpt. Fuller is walking with Booth and Chelsea .

"I can't talk to the family. There's an ongoing investigation."

Chelsea rolls her eyes, "Convenient."

"Cherry."

"What?" she shrugs.

"And you had no idea this was a friendly fire incident?"

" If I had, don't you think I would've reported it?" Fuller says as Chelsea shakes her head.

"Well, there are just so many inconsistencies in the report, captain, it seems like–"

Fuller cuts her off. "You're good at your job, Dr. Swan, but you don't know the first thing about combat. We were taking fire. One of my men was killed The area wasn't secured. Do you think I'm counting bullets and drawing pictures?" He turns to Booth. "You've been through it. Does it ever go the way you want it to? Is it ever the way it should be in combat?"

Chelsea was about two seconds away from smacking this guy and Booth clears his throat giving her a warning look, he was an asshole. She knew what it was like. Hell she lived it for almost a year of her life. Wondering if she would ever make it back home. If her sister would be able to be notified when they didnt find her body.

"We have to ask these questions. It's a murder investigation. You understand that?"

"And I'll cooperate any way I can. I don't want any more of my men to die either. Now, if there's nothing else–" Turns and leaves. Booth and Chelsea share a look.

"How dare he say that to me, How dare he ridicule me like i dont know. Does he even know? I was a woman in field where it only favors men. He has no idea the hell I went through, to even make it to the ranking I got. I was in a league with men and I was in charge all of them. Can you imagine? The things I got told. Screw him." Chelsea chest was rising and falling she was truly angry and Booth felt bad, he understood where everyone was coming from except her, he forgot that she was a woman going through all of the same things he had went through. The car ride back to the Jefforsonian was quiet, Chelsea didnt even say goodbye when he dropped her off.

She stayed quiet focusing in on this case. She was already annoyed she didnt need to feel it anymore. She didnt need those emotions rising up and messing with her head she needed clear judgement.

"Got something. A splinter pattern. Particles of wood were blown back into one of the exit wounds from the AK-47s"

"The missing bullet" Chelsea says.

"But he wasn't leaning against wood when he was shot. He was in the middle of the room." Zack says as Angela pulls up an Image on the screen changes as Hodgins goes through them.

"No. He was on the floor."

" Someone stood over him and squeezed off some rounds from an AK-47 after he was already dead." Chelsea explains.

"The missing round passed through him and into the wood floor."

"Yeah, but all the insurgents had already been killed and they were the only ones with AK-47s." Angela says.

"I hate to say conspiracy, but, my peeps, we've got a conspiracy." Hodgins starts evily grinning.

"Someone wanted to cover up the friendly fire incident by making it look like he was killed by the insurgents." Hodgins, looks incredulously gleeful at this news. Chelsea turns to Angela. "Angela enhance all the pictures of the aftermath so we can see body positions, bullet holes, damage to the house. I wanna reconstruct what happened that night."

Chelsea and Angela were in her office. Angela was at the computer, the photos from Cpl. Kent's death on the screen. Chelsea leans in to see the pictures. " I wanna see all the walls. Can you scan them for bullet holes?" Computer beeps. " Okay, single out the ones that came from Lefferts' weapon. This is hard for Booth. He's idealistic."

"Well, it's nice to know somebody that wants to keep honor and responsibility alive."

" I feel like Booth thinks I'm taking that away from him." Chelsea Looks down at the files. " Okay, it says Insurgent "A" opened fire when he saw Kent and Kent took him out. Let's see "A" again." The

photo changes to the Iraqi man with his hands held out, gun in his lap.

" You're just doing your job. He knows that."

" I guess." she frowns, "Magnify his hands."

"What are you looking for?" Computer zooms into the photo, focusing on the dead man's hands.

Chelsea mimics his pose." Well his hands are splayed like he was shielding himself from the rounds coming at him. Cadaveric spasm. The muscles became rigid when he died. He might not have been holding that weapon"

"What do you mean?"

"Show me Insurgent "B." Photo changes to a man lying face-down on the carpet, gun by his side. She sighs. "I tell Booth we're on the same side." she flips a page. "I'm not the one who's disillusioning him. It's my findings. But when I look at him, I--I don't know what else I can do."

" I do."

Chelsea gives her a look. " Ange."

Angela huffs. "As a friend, Chelsea."

Chelsea takes a seat in the chair next to Angela. "Yeah, that whole "friends with benefits" thing, that's-- that's not happening."

" I'm not talking about that. I'm-- I'm talking about being there for him. Knowing when a simple touch is enough."

"Maybe I can write him a note. I can be very articulate on paper." Angela concedes defeat. "Zoom in. Okay, magnify the blood smear." Computer zooms in on the blood smeared on the carpet. "I mean, you can see by the smear he was moved, turned, that gun placed next to him. Okay, show me "C."

The photo shows Kent lying in the foreground, dead. Behind him lies a woman, lying on her side. "Okay, this is the third insurgent woman, about 40, holding the unexploded grenade in her hand."

" Magnify her torso."

"Wait, she's lying on a dinner plate." Angela says as Chelsea nods.

"The serving spoon is next to her. She'd been holding it when she was shot. "

"And a grenade?" Looks skeptical

Booth walks into the office. "Found anything yet?"

"Yeah." Chelsea turns to face him. " None of these people were armed when Kent went in there. All of the weapons were planted on them after they died. Fuller's unit killed an unarmed family." Booth and Angela are stunned.

"Kent shot unarmed people?" Booth asks.

" They look like a family."

"About to sit down to dinner." Angela says.

"Were there any other questionable operations with this unit?"

" None. They served another six months without incident." Booth explains.

"How could something like this have happened?"

"Woman could've heard 'em. She was on her way to the backdoor. Kent probably thought the spoon was a weapon." Booth says as Chelsea gives him a look.

"A spoon?"

" It's dark. It happens. He's inexperienced. He's scared out of his mind. You only have an instant to make a choice. Kent probably thought he was being attacked so he burst through the door." He continues.

" From the spray pattern, he was shooting as he entered. He must've killed the woman first, the others as they rushed to the woman to help." Chelsea explains.

"He probably thought they were attacking too. Lefferts hears all the firing. He goes in. Kent turns. weapon's still pointed. Lefferts shoots, kills Kent. It all happens in seconds."

"But if Kent turned to face him-- " Angela goes on to say only to be cutt off by Booth.

"It doesn't matter. I mean, after all the shooting all Lefferts sees is a weapon pointing right at him. He just reacted."

"God." Angela shakes her head stunned.

" Yeah."

"So this was more than a friendly fire incident."

Booth nodding. "A hell of a lot more."

Booth arrested Fuller for Obstruction of a crime scene. He heads back to the Jeffersonian. "Devon Marshall's killer is still out there. Fuller placed some confiscated weapon on the Iraqis, pressured the others to keep quiet, but he still has an alibi for the night of Marshall's murder"

"Zack found some discoloration on Devon's vertebrae."

" It was caused by residue from pethidine, an opiate affectionately known as Demerol." Hodgins says.

Chelsea picks up the bone. " Someone jabbed a syringe into his neck, creating the indentation in the bone. He would've been unconscious in seconds. That's why the instrument could've been placed in his ear without a struggle."

" It was a nine-inch surgical curette like this." Zack Holds up the item.

"So we're looking for someone with access to surgical tools and prescription drugs."

"Someone the army sent to medical school." Booth's face looks quiery as if he figured it out.

Booth, Chelsea and Army soldiers walk into a local hospial seeing Campbell putting a bandaid on a little girls cut. Campbell ooks up and is not surprised, but resigned. Booth and Chelsea look expectant. Campbell looks down, nods to herself and looks back up. " He was gonna tell. I-- It's like the war was still going on. I was just trying to survive."

In the end Campbell was placed into the brig, she was the Navy's problem now. Chelsea and Booth were attending Devon's Funeral the Marshall's walk towards the gathered mourners, Booth and Chelsea standing in the front row.

Regina holds a folded flag against her chest. "My boy was just trying to do the right thing. Thank you for letting people see that."

Chelsea nods. "You can be proud of him." They leave, leaving Chelsea and Booth alone. They meet with the Kent family, and Tina Kent embraces Regina Marhsall, sharing their mutual loss. "I would never have expected to see that."

" Well, people will always surprise you." Booth explains.

"That hasn't always been my experience."

"I've done some things." Booth nods.

"I know."

"No, no, you don't."

Chelsea looks a Booth thoughtfully.. "Yes I do, because...I have too. But it's okay."

"Well, not-- not as a secret..." Booth sits. " it's not. I have to be uh, honest about myself." Chelsea sits next to him. " I-- I have to be able to tell someone."

"You will in time, Booth. You will."

Booth nods hastily. "I was sent to Kosovo. There was this Serb, General Raddick, who led a unit who would go into villages and, you know, destroy 'em. Women, children, all-- all killed because he wanted to ethnically purify his country. He'd done this twice before. I mean, we had facts, proof. 232 people just erased. I was the sniper sent in to stop him. He was set to leave in a couple hours. It was his son's-- son's birthday. A little boy maybe about six or seven. I can still hear the music from the party, you know? That song just playing in my head. Nobody knew where the shot came from, but, you know, they knew why it came. They said I saved over a hundred people. But, you know, that little boy who didn't know who his father was, who-- who just loved him... he saw him die, fall to the ground right in front of him. That little boy all covered in his daddy's blood was changed forever." Booth sighs. "It's never just-- It's never just the one person who dies, Cherry. Never. Never." Chelsea places a hand on his forearm, silent. Booth sniffles, and places his hand atop hers, grateful. "You know, we all die a little bit, Cherry. With each shot, we all die a little bit." Chelsea has her own tears, as Booth's thumb is rubbing her hand.

Bones 01x21: The Soldier on the Grave

Word count: 7400