The show might be over, but their story isn't. Is anyone still out there reading this?

Also, thanks to wonderful Tracy (Some1tookmyname) for correcting the flaws in my words.

THE PRICE WE PAY

The word "grief" is derived from the old French "grever" and means "to burden". And, like a burden, Temperance Brennan could feel the weight on her back.

It has been three days since her father had left her. No, not left her, she reminded herself. Died. Max died. His heart had stopped beating, his brain ceased to work. This time, he hadn't left her. Still, the result was the same. He was gone. And Brennan was alone. No, she corrected herself once more. Not alone. She had a family now, a husband, kids, friends. Why was it then that she couldn't shake off the overwhelming feeling of loneliness?

Three days. By definition, it takes three days for the world to turn right side up again. Why had the world failed to correct itself this time?

Brennan was wondering. And falling. Everything was different, nothing made sense anymore. Booth was watching her constantly, she could feel his gaze on her. For the first time, though, his brown eyes couldn't reassure her. On the contrary... he was annoying her. Emotions. He was sending emotions her way. Concern, love, a sense of guilt. Brennan didn't want to deal with his emotions, she had too many of her own feelings to handle.

"I love you," he had said. And: "You're not alone in this."

Alone, however, was everything she wanted to be right now.

"I think it would be good for me to be alone for a few days."

-BONES-

Adjusting. She was adjusting. She had done it before, she could do it again.

At the age of three, Temperance Brennan had adjusted to a new name, a new home.

When she'd been 15 years old, she had learned to be on her own. That lesson had been hard, harder only had been to unlearn it again. Booth had pried her shield away from her, had forced her to feel again. Imperviousness... she had given it up for him.

She had adjusted to loving him, and what should have weakened her, had only made her stronger. He was her partner, the father of her children, the other half of her self. Brennan knew that she shouldn't be shutting him out, but she simply didn't know how to let him in...

"I don't know why I'm crying."

"It's okay."

"No, I mean, I don't know why I'm crying with you. Why am I letting you in and he feels so far away?"

"Give yourself some time. Booth is not going anywhere."

-BONES-

Newfoundland.

Booth couldn't believe that she had sent him to Newfoundland. In the beginning, he had been used to Brennan pushing him away, but those days were long gone. Nowadays, they were sharing their lives and hopes and dreams, and every cell in his being protested against the distance. He wanted to be with her, hold her, caress her, soothe her. He wanted to be there for her. It pained him deeply that the only favor he could do her right now was leaving her alone.

No, not alone.

With Sully.

Somehow, that was even worse. There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he hadn't known for years. Like bile, it tasted bitter on his tongue. Jealousy.

He didn't fear for a moment that they'd sleep together. No, he trusted his wife infinitely. She'd never do that. And Tim Sullivan would never do that, either. He was a nice man and a true friend.

Booth envied Sully for the ease he had with Brennan. The other man had been the first one who'd ever made the effort to truly reach her as a woman, and they'd never lost contact. They had a link, and somehow Sully could connect with her when Booth himself couldn't.

He'd even named a sandwich after her, and not just any sandwich, but one that was fitting. The Tempe Tempeh. Only Sully could turn fermented soybeans into something cute, Booth grumbled.

Sully was such a great guy that Booth couldn't even despise him wholeheartedly.

That wasn't fair, he decided.

-BONES-

She had changed.

Ten years and two kids had left traces on her. Her eyes had still the same color, a color that reminded him of the ocean on cloudy days, but the wrinkles around them were new. Her body was softer, fuller. Sully had never forgotten her body, even though he had long stopped desiring her.

And even more than just her physical appearance had changed. Asking about his love life, giving advice? The Brennan he had first met so many years ago hadn't been able to muster that amount of empathy and interest. He would never tell her because she would hit him (and it would be justified), but she'd become human over the years.

She was still beautiful, inside out, and even in her pain, she was stunning. He hurt for her, as a friend, but Sully understood that, eventually, she'd be okay. She was strong and she wasn't alone. She had Booth.

For Sully knew she'd never been his fate and he had never been hers. Regardless of how much you might want it, some ties are just predetermined and can't be undone by men and women.

-BONES-

He went back to her. Of course he did, but for the first time in ages, the prospect of going home didn't fill his heart with unadulterated joy. Booth was uneasy, his stomach unsettled.

Despite the late hour, he found her awake. She was sitting in her favorite armchair, still dressed in the day's clothes, writing.

"Welcome home."

"It's good to be home."

They met in the middle of their living-room, embracing each other rather cautiously. She was looking at him, though, truly looking a him for the first time in days. Her pale eyes still contained pain and vulnerability, but she didn't seem lost anymore.

He had fixed her, Booth thought, and gratitude mingled with jealousy.

"Booth, about Sully..."

Booth interrupted her. He might be green-eyed, but he'd never be a jerk.

"You don't have to explain yourself about Sully. It's okay, he is important to you."

"Yes, but I want you to understand why he is important. It's because without Sully, I don't think I would have been ready for you. For this. And because of that, I will always be grateful to him. Because I love this. I love you."

Her adorable candor tugged at his heart-strings, and just like that, he suddenly felt whole again.

"I love you, Bones. Always."

And when he pulled her into his arms anew, something inside of her cracked wide open, and she could breathe again. Tears pooled in her eyes, as the familiarity of his hug overwhelmed her. Booth's scent, his warmth, his strength all around her. His stubbly chin scratching her cheek, his heart beating so close to hers. His solid frame was grounding her, and it was more than she could bear and everything she needed at the same time.

The damn broke.

And she was crying.

Finally baring her tears, her fears, her sorrow.

Her face pressed into his shoulder, the fabric dampening under her grief, and sobs shook her whole body until she got hiccups. All the while he was there, holding her tight to his chest, murmuring sweet solace into her soft curls.

"Sh, I've got you Babe, you're not alone."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"I... I miss him so much."

"I know, Bones. Me too. He was..."

His voice trailed off, and a teary smile brightened her face.

"Yes, he was."

Max Keenan had been gray, a beautiful shade of gray that – despite her initial belief – could indeed exist between black and white. He had been a criminal, but a good man. An old crook, but honorable. He had left her and had loved her. The pain of losing him was sharp, but it was mingled with warm and fond memories.

Brennan lifted her head from its safe place on Booth's shoulder, looking up at him without disguise.

"When we first met, I didn't believe that love was worth it. Death is inevitable, so every relationship is bound to end in pain. I... I don't believe that anymore. It's worth it. Love is worth it. I've learned that from you."

His palms cupped her cheeks, caressing her gently.

"I know," he whispered hoarsely before closing the distance between their heads. Brows touched first, then noses. Finally, their mouths met in the softest of kisses.

Familiar, everything was so familiar. The rose petal texture of her lips, the way they parted to let him in. Her tongue greeting his. Brennan sighed into his mouth, her arms gliding around his midsection.

She was alive. Rationally speaking, Brennan had known that she was alive, but some part of her had been dead and buried ever since Max's heart had stopped beating. Booth was making her feel alive again.

Heat coiled low in her belly, and her hands slipped under his shirt, caressing the bare skin of his back. Alive.

He slowed the kiss, then, trying to keep it soft rather than passionate. Brennan moaned in frustration.

"Please?" she whispered, and he wanted to give her everything except an easy way out.

"Bones, I love you, I want you. But I don't want to be your emotional sleeping pill. If you think sex can numb you somehow-"

She cut him off.

"I want to feel. Make me feel, Booth, please."

His lips were back on hers in an instant, and this time he wasn't holding back. Booth poured everything he hadn't been able to verbalize into his kiss, and she got his message; got it and responded. Lifting her, he carried her to the couch, falling into the cushions with her, on top of her. He was heavy, crushing her a little bit, but she needed it, oh she needed it.

Clothes were shed in a haste, and for two people who knew each other so well, there was quite a lot fumbling.

"Do you think – oh yes – do you think we might get too old for the couch, Bones?"

She laughed, the throaty sound he loved so much.

"Angela calls it 'wild monkey sex'. I think there's no age limit."

"No age limit?"

His fingers found just the right spot between her legs, rubbing tenderly. Her breath hitched, and she opened her thighs to his touch.

"Yes..."

Her eyes glazed over, as he continued to fondle her, and he was so in love with her. She's mine, he thought, mine, and then he said it out loud, as his finger dipped into her.

"You're mine."

"Yes," she breathed, and her palm closed around his silken shaft, squeezing boldly. "But you're mine as well."

He groaned, losing himself in her. For she was warmth and heaven and everything to him.

"Bones, I'm so glad you didn't leave with Sully. Back then," he confessed in a ragged sigh.

"Me too."

It was the last thing that was spoken for a while, as he began to stroke her in earnest, as he grew hot under her touch. Her thighs fell open to accommodate his hips, and then he was meeting her so intimately until – finally – there was nothing left in this world to separate them.

One. They were one.

One single life shared.

Burden which allow us to fly.

Two people becoming one.

He was every feeling she'd ever been afraid of, but it didn't scare her anymore. Her world had turned right side up again, and as the first tingles of pleasure flooded her body, her eyes bore into his dark brown ones, looking straight into his soul. Feelings, she was consumed by feelings, as he was moving so deep inside of her.

He was the only one she'd ever made love to with eyes wide open. For there was nothing to hide.

Every step on this road called life had lead her to him, had led her to this very moment. And then the world stopped and splintered apart, as they were gasping and falling and clutching each other with every limb possible.

Together.

Like it was meant to be.

-BONES-

Here we are, separate creatures circling each other, all searching for that slightest hint of a real connection. Love... searching for love. And once it's found, real love, it changes everything, creates a predetermined breaking point. Because few things in life a certain, but death is one of them. The burden of grief is the price we pay.

Is it worth it?

He had always thought so.

Once upon a time, she would have denied it.

Lying in her husband's arms later that night, his presence covering her like a cozy blanket, Temperance Brennan thanked every God she didn't believe in for the courage to chose love over loneliness.

For it was worth it.

With him, she was whole.

And whole was so much better than impervious.

The End.