She had been singing Cyndi Lauper, her smile widening when she had seen Booth bounce happily in his seat along to the music. He had had an incredulous look on his face, as if astonished to realize that her mother had been telling the truth all along.
Now he has looking at her from the floor, his eyes unfocused. His shirt had a widening circle of crimson as her hands pressed down on the wound, her vision blurry as her tears littered his shirt.
'Booth! Booth! Look at me!'
She could feel his blood pumping sluggishly through her fingers, making them warm and sticky.
The bullet had been meant for her.
For some reason, Brennan could not find it within herself to feel any remorse for Pam. She had reacted on instinct. Booth on the floor gasping for breath…
Before she realized what she was doing, the gun was in her hand and the bullet had found its way into Pam's throat. The woman had looked stunned for a second before pitching forward and collapsing on the ground. She had killed a person today. Shouldn't she be feeling guilt? Shouldn't she be feeling some kind of repentance?
'You have to stay with me okay?' Brennan pleaded with him. She felt him start to tremble beneath her.
'The ambulance should be here any minute Sweetie.' Brennan barely heard Angela. She had a form of pilot's fixation. Everything disappeared around her except for Booth.
'If you leave, who else is going to call be Bones and tell me how much you admire my scientific expertise?' Brennan said, her voice shaky. 'I'll never be able to tell you how ridiculous your socks are…'
Why hadn't she warned him? He had mentioned that Pam had given him socks. Manipulation and obligation. She had laughed with Sweets. She should have gone with him when Pam had asked to meet with him alone. That should have been a warning.
'Bones,' Booth said weakly.
'Oh God Seeley,' Brennan whispered. His face seemed to be paler. The blood was still pumping out of the wound.
'Don't…cry,' he told her. Brennan laughed hysterically.
'Well, next time bring me to an open mike night with better security,' Brennan told him. 'You're going to be okay, do you hear me Booth. You're strong, and fit, and healthy. Your chances for recovery are well within your favour.'
Booth smiled faintly. She felt one of his hands on her thigh, his grip faint but there.
'Now isn't the time to police a feel,' Brennan admonished. Booth started to laugh before coughing violently. Brennan felt more blood seep out.
'Keep still,' Brennan said firmly. Instantly she felt Booth obey her request.
'You're going to be fine Seeley. I need you to be fine. I need you to do that for me.' She couldn't recognize the desperation in her voice. It seemed too surreal.
She saw his eyes slipping shut. Frantically, her fingers tapped the side of his cheek insistently.
'No. Keep your eyes open! Booth! Booth!' Brennan screamed.
'Ma'am? I need you to step aside.' Brenna turned to see a paramedic beside her. When had they gotten here? Numbly, she let go of Booth.
You know bones, not how to treat a GSW.
She heard people barking out orders, saw them lift Booth into a gurney and then wheel him away. She noticed two CSU's photographing Pam's body. Brennan turned away, squeezing her eyes shut.
All he wanted was to hear me sing.