Just a quick oneshot I wrote a while ago. Hope you like it!

Brennan got out of her car, moving slowly towards the house ahead of her. She stopped and thought for a moment. Why hadn't she called Booth when she was told about the new lead about their main suspect? She couldn't think of a reason, but something told her that she had to do this one alone.

She ran through the case in her head. The victim was Peter Thatcher who was forty five years old, married with no children. He had been decapitated and buried in his own backyard for at least one month before the neighbour's dog broke through the fence and dug up the remnants of a foot. The wife had reported him missing two weeks after he died and was currently the main suspect, but they had no solid evidence on her.

As she approached the house she knew that something wasn't right. The door was open, swinging loosely on its hinges and allowing Brennan to see inside. Wishing that Booth had given her that gun that she had begged for so many times she approached the front door with caution, stepping inside to see Terri Thatcher, the victim's wife, lying in the middle of the living room, surrounded by blood. Brennan ran to her side, stopping quickly to try to find a pulse, but found none. She pulled out her phone and phoned Angela, telling her to get the police and an ambulance on the scene as soon as possible. She didn't call Booth; she knew he would be mad if she told him that she had gone without him. As she examined the body from a distance she heard a footstep behind her and before she could spin around to see who it was she felt the cool metal of a knife press against her neck.

'Don't move that pretty little head of yours, now,' she heard Nick Thatcher say coolly from behind her. She ran through what she had read about him; he was the victim's younger brother and had apparently been travelling for the past five years. From pictures she had seen he was a tall and solid man, no match for her.

'Get up!' he ordered and Brennan stood.

'The police are on their way,' she said quietly, wishing she had called Booth after all.

'You're coming with me,' Thatcher said, grabbing her from behind with one arm and holding the knife to her neck with the other. She felt herself being pulled out of the front door and tried to think of a way to escape, but all ended in her getting her throat slit. Doing all she could think to do she kicked back into his knee, hoping that it was extended and she could dislocate it, but unfortunately his knee was bent and it just ended in him slipping and grazing her neck with the knife.

'Don't want that head getting cut off now do we?' Thatcher said from behind her, leading her to a white van.

'Put your hands in the air!' a loud voice yelled and Brennan was forced around as Thatcher turned to look at the growing number of unmarked police cars that were out the front of the house as well as an ambulance that pulled up behind them.

Brennan could do nothing to keep herself on her feet as Thatcher threw her to the ground. Brennan felt her knees and right arm graze as she hit the footpath, but ignored the pain as she watched Thatched attempt to run to the car before being shot down, falling just metres away from where Brennan was. As policemen ran towards Thatcher, Brennan stood up and, without thinking, began to walk back towards her car. She didn't need to think about the case now, she needed to go home. She got in and drove home quickly before practically running inside, slamming the door and turning on the water for the bath. She needed to get the smell of Thatcher off her, as well as the blood that was surrounding her wounds. She stripped off her clothes and got into the warm water, trying not to let her emotions get to her as she forced the memories about the whole Thatcher case out of her mind.

She curled into a ball, leaning on the edge with her face just inches away from the water and she let the tears fall.

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Booth got off the phone from Angela and ran to his SUV, jumping in and driving as fast as he could to Brennan's house. Angela had told him what had happened, about Brennan being taken hostage by Peter Thatcher's younger brother before he was shot. She was bleeding when they had shot Thatcher and then she had disappeared.

He ran to the front door and, without even bothering to knock, grabbed the key from under the front mat and opened the door. He rushed through the house looking for her before stopping at the open door of the bathroom.

Booth felt his heart sink as he saw his Bones in the most vulnerable state he had ever seen her. She was curled up one end of the bath naked with the water tinged a light red from the injuries that he could not see. She had her back to him and was sobbing quietly. Without even considering leaving her to have her privacy he took his suit jacket off and dropped it in the doorway. As he made his way towards her he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, putting it around her shoulders to cover her up a bit. He was left kneeling next to the bath in a singlet and his suit pants.

'Bones,' he whispered, putting his hand between her shoulder blades. She didn't trust herself to talk and sobbed in response to him calling her by her nickname.

'Are you hurt?' he asked, afraid that the tears pooled in his eyes would fall. She shook her head.

Not considering what he was doing, Booth slipped into the water behind her, feeling his clothes stick to his body as he did so. He sat up and put his hands on her arms, rubbing them up and down her soft skin. As he felt her relax he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him in an action, he told himself, that was purely in a 'comforting a friend' manner. Brennan rested her head on his chest and sighed.

'He killed his own brother,' she said quietly.

'I know, Bones, I know,' he replied, trying to reassure her.

'He…' she stopped as her voice broke. 'Terri and Peter were the only family he had and he killed them.'

'Many people take their family for granted,' he whispered into her ear, causing her to shiver. She turned her head to face him and watched as his hand reached up to her neck, tracing the graze of Thatcher's knife with his thumb.

'I'm sorry,' he said, his deep brown eyes boring into hers.

'I should have called you,' she replied, breaking the eye contact.

'Yes, you should have.' Booth looked at his Bones, willing her to look at him. 'You know I'm here for you, don't you?' Brennan nodded and Booth held her chin with one hand, lifting her head to meet his gaze.

'Thank you,' she said and he didn't need to ask why. He had saved her, physically and mentally on so many occasions. She closed the small gap between them by pulling him to her and gently touching her lips to his. When they pulled apart Booth just held her.

'I'll always be here for you Bones,' he whispered finally.

Thanks for reading, review if you want!