Title: The Dead Among Us
Fandom: Bones
Pairing: Angela/Booth, implied Brennan/Booth and Angela/Jack
Spoilers: Up through "Aliens in a Spaceship" though it goes AU during it.
Word Count: 3,755
Rating: M for language and adult themes
Warning: Character deaths, Angela POV
Summary: The night they finally find Brennan and Hodgins if it had ended another way.
Disclaimer: Hanson and Fox are mean for keeping these characters for themselves. That means I don't own 'em.

This isn't as awkward as it could be. Falling into Booth's arms. Into his bed. We've been here before when everything was new and shiny like freshly minted pennies. Our bodies etched in copper untouched by other hands or spoiled by years of leather-soled beating on hot pavement.

That was before there was the possibility of a Booth and Brennan or a Jack and Angela. He was just the new kid in the lab who happened to be this hunky FBI guy in shining armor. I was equally new to him – a quirky, fun, mostly human Angela who stood out in this sea of squintitude as a familiar life raft – and he grabbed on fast and hard.

Not that I complained. My, God, what that man's body can do. All that muscle and bulk fueled by a passion that reaches deeper than just a desire to join with a woman's body. It's like he tries to crawl inside you whole and lift you up from the inside. And I let him try – relished in the effort and sang praises to baby Jesus in thanks – until I was eventually convinced that he might possibly succeed as long as I didn't combust from the friction first.

We were so well matched. It was as if our hearts hummed on the same wavelength. Corny, I know, but I swear sometimes I thought there was a buzz that got louder and louder the closer we got to each other. And when we touched, the buzz switched from something auditory into a physical current that slithered through us until our skin sparked in meeting.

There were days and days of laughter, heart-to-heart talks at two in the morning, even fantasies of what the unfortunate kids we might produce would be like. According to Booth, they'd either be artists who loved painting athletes or athletes who loved screwing artists. Yeah. I wanted them to take after their dad, too.

Not that we were that serious. It was mostly fun and sex and, oh Lord, more sex. But there was a connection that kept us together – besides the mutual sparking of skin - kept us from looking for anyone else to fill the void in our beds.

It was easy and it was good.

Did I think we'd be together forever? I didn't think that far ahead. It was wonderful just being in the moment with him.

He's touching my body but the spark isn't for me. "Bones." It's a whisper in my ear. I don't think he knows what he just said, and I'll never bring it up.

We found them three days after the Gravedigger's deadline.

Peacefully entwined bodies, powder white marble angels. Brennan's left cheek against his left, her long leg covering him from hip to toe. She was protecting him – her Hodgins squint – from something. Maybe hoping she would die first and allow him to live long enough for rescue.

But we weren't there.

Did they believe until the very end that we would find them or had they given up, sinking into death just as their bodies burrowed into the earth?

It appears from the singed interior and shattered glass that they somehow set off an explosion. Zack will know how they did it and he will proudly give Jack the final King-of-the-Lab moment. I can't help but smile and cry at the same time.

The smell of their deaths should have lingered after the explosion's plume was carried away by the wind. We should have sensed it and found them sooner – should have known where they were just because they were so much apart of us both.

I know Booth believes he should have been there. He'll never forgive himself for not being the one whose leg was the shelter. He'll never forgive himself for letting her die without him.

Booth paced around the edge of their tomb while the rescue workers – now recovery workers – began to dig out the car. I truly think he held out hope there would be a miracle and both would rise from the dead, Brennan giving him hell for taking so long to find them. I don't think he let go of that hope until the car was raised and the sand emptied from the backseat. Then, when the angels they had become rose from the earth that had covered them like rare porcelain in an archeological dig, he stood and shut his eyes.

He didn't watch as the workers tried to pry them apart to bring them singly from the grave only to put them back into another.

I couldn't watch either as my best friend and the man I might have eventually fallen for were torn from each other. It was cruel to separate them. They shouldn't be alone for eternity. We should have left them there.

I stared at Booth as best I could through my tears.

His eyes remained closed, his fists clenching, and his temple veined blue from strain. And as I watched, I saw him break. His Adam's apple rose and fell as the muscles in his jaw drew tight and then relaxed. Slowly, he bowed his head and his form collapsed from within – those massive shoulders folded like paper thin origami, then his chest caved, and his spine and knees seemed to morph into jelly – as he turned his body from the scene. He never fell, just stood boneless as the breeze seemed to be the only thing holding up his swaying body. It was almost like he was dancing alone.

"We danced." His eyes were remembering the moment and his smile was soft and filled with awe. "I didn't know she could dance."

He had said it as an apology. As if dancing with Brennan was cheating on us. But there was no "us" the moment he held her in his arms. I could tell that by looking at him. I should have been furious, but at that moment I realized why we weren't going to work.

Booth was and always would be a hunter at his core - a warrior who isn't happy unless he's fighting for or with someone. Sure, his heart is big enough for the entire State of Texas to find comfort in, but it's a restless heart. Peace is not a state of being that an Army Ranger ever feels truly at home in.

I, on the other hand, am a lover not a fighter. I revel in the harmony of two perfectly synched vibrations making joyous music. Eventually, I realized, he would have tired of the ease of us – the sheer joy of tranquility – and began the search for someone new to conquer.

I just didn't think he'd ever look at Brennan as that challenge. I thought their bickering was cute, but I fooled myself into thinking it was annoying and not a turn on to him. And at first, I'm positive it was. When the trigger switched in his mind I can't be sure.

But I am sure he was smitten after their dance in that bar somewhere out West and a man thinking of another woman while he's with me is not my idea of peace or joy. So I let him go.

"By the way, I kinda hooked up with someone while you were gone. Who knew Fed Ex was in the hot babe business? I never really swung that way, but I thought what the hell, ya know? I mean she was really hot!"

It was a risk. He could have been like Hodgins and thought he'd like to get in the middle of that action, but I was pretty sure Booth wasn't that kind of guy. He was loyal to a fault and while the thought of a threesome might be a nice fantasy for him, morally he wouldn't cross that line. Luckily I was right because whatever light was left in those big brown eyes for me flickered out at that moment.

He mumbled an okay and something about talk to ya later and walked off. And that was it. The ease with which we fell into a relationship was there when we fell out.

"Tighter. Hold me tighter." He's already practically melting on top and inside me. We smell of sweat and dirt but not tears. Our bodies are slick and he glides across my legs and torso as he pushes up and in hard causing a little pain for both of us.

It was after ten and the moon had never risen. The quarry was emptying quickly of all the teams of men and women that it takes to recover two bodies from a hole in the ground.

Brennan and Jack were gone. On their way to the morgue in the back of two separate EMT units.

Booth and I were the only ones left. We both feared leaving this place and never being the same people again. I'm pretty sure we resembled the dust covered statues of our friends and almost lovers but it was too dark to see clearly. The grime on my teeth tasted like sulfur and my palms felt grit as I moved them up and down my arms warding off the night chill that finally hit me.

I slowly moved toward Booth, my footing wobbly in the soft earth. He was staring blankly at the space where Brennan had last been, and I suddenly was very afraid he was going to jump in and leave me completely alone.

"Hey," I said as my hand reached for his in the dark. When I found it, it was cold and still in a fist. I wriggled one finger inside and tugged. After a moment he began to relax that hand at least and I slid mine inside.

"Could you do me a favor?" I didn't wait for him to reply because I wasn't sure he would. "Can I stay with you tonight? Please? I don't think I can stand to be alone."

He answered with a gentle squeeze of my hand. I waited a few more moments and then palmed his cheek and brought his eyes to mine. It was pitch black in the quarry but I could still see the shimmer of dammed tears there.

"Let's go," I said. I could feel him trying to turn his head back toward the grave, but I pulled harder. "They're not there. They're gone. We have to go now."

I felt his jaw twitch in my hand. I had made him angry, but that was good. Anger makes you move. Anger gives you a reason to go on.

"Please, Booth."

I didn't move until he did. I heard him breathe in deeply and let it out slowly before his head nodded once and we were walking away.

It was strange being in the passenger seat in his SUV. It was so much Brennan's spot that I felt like I was betraying her by sitting there. I glanced in the rearview mirror to see if Booth was watching my discomfort. I expected him to stop the car and kick me out at any moment, but he just stared straight ahead and seemed to make the journey back to his apartment by rote.

He got out, his jacket flung over his shoulder and his other hand in his pants' pocket, and waited for me to come up beside him before we headed for the door. He fumbled a bit with his keys, a telltale shake, my hand on his to steady it, and then we were inside.

We stood still in his living room. He let his jacket and keys fall to the floor, the sound echoing and making me jump. Neither of us moved to turn on a light though. Who wants to see the world when the people you care about are no longer in it?

We groped for each other in the darkness. I'm not sure who reached out first, but I felt his arm around my waist at the same moment that I was sliding my hand up his arm toward his neck until we were embracing.

It was comfort at first. We both needed to be held. We both needed not to let go or we'd completely lose it. I don't know how long we stood there clasping each other, afraid one of us was going to disappear.

We were so desperate in our losses. I do believe his more so than mine. Jack and I were just beginning. It was tentative and sweet, but we weren't there yet. I mourned the loss of what we might have been and his friendship. And I will miss forever my best friend, Brennan.

But I had known days ago that they were gone. I'm sure now, though, that Booth had harbored faith that she had done what he couldn't. That she had somehow saved them both.

In that moment, as his fingertips dug into my ribs and his body trembled against mine, I knew what he was experiencing was not only the loss of his partner and the crumbling of some of his faith in God, but worse was the realization that he had been deeply in love with her and never told her.

Wasted time. Regrets. Missed opportunities.

I began to cry again. This time for the man in my arms and for myself - for not being the woman he wanted at that moment.

"I'm so sorry, Booth." I'm not sure he knew why, but it didn't matter. I wanted him to feel warm and alive just as much as I wanted that for myself.

My mouth soothed him in the only way I knew how. His face was rough with dust and stubble. Salt and sulfur coated my tongue as my lips left soft kisses along his jaw.

Maybe some of this dust on us had touched them as they lay together waiting for death but hoping for life. Maybe Brennan is here with him now and Jack is with me telling us to live. Live long and happy lives for them. They would want us to be there for each other.

The thought of such love overwhelms me, and I quickly move my mouth to his to share what I have taken from his skin and their grave. He doesn't resist and he'll probably hate himself tomorrow for not protesting, but I'll tell him later so his mind can accept it.

Right now he needs my heart and my heart knows this is right. My chest is about to burst with love for my friends, for Booth and for myself.

I think he can feel it, too, because his neck muscles begin to unwind beneath my touch and his hands relax and make lazy circles on my back.

I'm frantic now to show him what Brennan and Jack are telling me. I tug at the tie that he long ago loosened and don't wait for it to hit the floor before I'm ripping the buttons off his shirt.

He's breathless and panting and so am I, but I don't give him long to recover before my lips cover his again. He's beginning to catch on as I pull the sleeves off him and once free his hands waste no time in unzipping my flimsy blouse in the back and unhooking my bra so they both slip off at the same time.

Our naked chests slap together and he's so hot now. We're here and we're alive and generating enough heat for all four of us. I smile to myself because I suspect if he knew we were having a ménage à quatre, he'd flip out.

He bends quickly and scoops my legs out from under me sending my flats soaring across the room. In seconds I'm being tossed on his bed and before my body can settle, he's sliding my tight knit pants and panties off. I try to reach for his belt to speed things up, but he pulls back and does it himself toeing off his shoes while he unzips.

There is no thinking on his part. I can tell he's all animal now. Or, perhaps, all Ranger. Taking orders from my lead, not wanting to think if what he's doing is the right thing. And that's fine. I don't want him to rationalize or question this. I just want him to feel and let it all go.

I want him to feel my hand on his chest and imagine slightly longer fingers. To trace the line of my jaw with his mouth and have it seem strong and square. To slip inside me and know she feels him because Brennan is part of me. To know what it feels like to make love to the woman he loves. Just once.

I say his name as his lips surround my nipple and it sounds like Brennan's voice in my head. She never told me, but I'm certain now she must have loved him, too. How could she not?

There's a subtle shift in his mood. His hands slow and gently he moves them over my skin from cheek, to breast, to hip, to thigh and back. Mapping every curve so he'll always know his way around my body. But it's not my body. He's making love to her with a tenderness he never used during our time together.

He nuzzles underneath my breast and nibbles his way from one to the other. His hair feels course and curly as I shut my eyes and run my hands through it while he kisses his way down my body.

Both hands clamp my hips as he brings me up to meet his mouth. He licks my hip bone before slowly slipping his tongue between my thighs. I buck against his mouth, circling, circling, aching for him. Jack...a sigh in my mind. It feels like he's rubbing his beard over me and it tickles.

I squirm from his grip and pull him up my body to my mouth. He brings the taste of woman to me, but it's not my own. I moan and he slides inside me.

My body trembles from the connection – it's so bright and warm like a spotlight. I don't want to open my eyes and I hope his eyes are closed, too. It's almost too much – the love he's giving me. He matches each stroke with such tender kisses and soft caresses as if he's making love to wind.

Or a ghost.

"Bones," he whispers her name. It's not the first time tonight, but this time he says it like a prayer.

Oh, God. We can't do this. I can't do this...give him her and then take her away from him. She can't die twice in one day.

I open my eyes and stare up at his face in rapture. "Booth. Booth, sweetie, open your eyes." It takes him a second, but he must still be in Ranger mode because he obeys.

"You loved her. God, you must have loved her so much. I know. But I can't be her. Not tonight. Not ever."

He stops all movement and stares at me. Blinking, he finally, I think, sees me and again I witness his break. His head drops into the crook of my neck and his lost sigh burns my skin.

"Ange, what are we doing?" He mumbles it against my collarbone, but I still hear the frustration and pain.

"We're showing them how much we loved them." He raises his head and I read the confusion on his face - I just stopped him from doing that. "We're showing them by living even when we want to die." My palm cups his still dry cheek and for a second I think that dam might burst as he leans into it.

"I need her back." It's not a request but a sad statement of fact. He retreats again into the cave of my neck and then engulfs me in his arms, his embrace almost choking the breath from me.

"God, Ange, I need her." His voice is shaking, and I wish he would finally let go.

I stroke his thick straight hair and turn my head so I can kiss his ear. "It's okay," I whisper and reach to pull him further into my body and squeeze him inside and out. "We're not betraying them. I promise."

He responds and whether its reflex or exhaustion spurring him, it doesn't matter because he's still hard and filling me up and it feels good to have this contact with the only other person who knows what it's like.

But it's not the same as before. It isn't love pushing his hips into mine as he jerks harder and grunts begin to rumble in his chest. I may have made a huge mistake not letting him have the illusion just once. But I don't think so because I know Brennan would have scoffed at my foolish thoughts about sharing dirt. She would have said, "Dirt is dirt, Angela" at which Jack would have fumed because it so isn't.

I smile while he's slamming into me, spiraling toward an out-of-control frenzy.

"Tighter. Hold me tighter." His grip is so strong the bruises his fingers are leaving will probably last for weeks. And it's what I want.

"I won't let go. I promise."

No, I won't because I know this is what we want. To share this horrible pain in our chests and, God help us, make someone else hurt as much as we are. It's selfish but it's what people do. Brennan would understand.

And because what we need neither of us can have.

So, I dig my nails into the thick, banded muscles of his back and hear him gasp and moan at the same time. His rhythm increases. He's pounding me like there's no tomorrow and who knows if there will be.

God, it hurts but as the pain in my body soars I feel it lessening inside.

I hang on and dig my teeth into his shoulder. Finally he lets go and comes with a roar that snaps his head back. Venting at heaven, his voice is as rough and gritty as our bodies and laced with so much loss, guilt, and regret. But over it all is an agony so deep...it is the most painful cry of love I've ever heard.

I add my scream to his so that in this moment that epitomizes pure life, the dead among us will hear and know. We're still here and we remember.

- fin -