This is just Brennan's thoughts during and after her separation from Booth during the whole Maluku and Iraq period. And also a bit of her perspective on the time after they both return. I really tried to make it seem like her veiw of the situation.

None of this really belongs to me. I don't own Bones.

"Please, Bones, just…just let me know if something's wrong. Okay? Please? It's the least you can do."

It was the last thing he said to her, the one thing he asked of her on their final night together before their yearlong separation. Ever since that night he asked her to give them a chance, to give him 30 or 40 or 50 years—things had been awkward and stilted between them. Worse even than in their antagonistic, disjointed, early partnership—because she felt guilt and he felt pain—too much for either of them to overcome easily. So they were leaving. Escaping to far off places where they could hide from the consequences, the meaning of his offer and her refusal. They had decided on a no communication rule. It was going to be a clean break, a complete separation—so he could heal and she could think. But they couldn't leave without sharing their own version of the last supper. They needed to spend one more night talking and just being together before they entered their forced exiles.

When it was painfully late, too late to be catching an early morning flight, he got up to leave. She told him to be careful, to meet her at the memorial in one piece, and reminded him of the no communication rule. And that's when he said it. When he asked her with that pleading look on his face, to please let him know if something goes wrong. If there's a disaster, or an illness, or a bad break. And she just can't deny him that. She's already denied him her heart. So she makes the promise. It's the least she can do.

As she waits for the plane to take off, she's still reeling from Booth's appearance at the airport—his refusal to let her leave without a proper goodbye. She remembers the night she told Angela about his confession. Angela had charged into her office wanting to know what was going on between them. Why she spaced out more often and Booth spent time at the lab less often. She was tired of trying to avoid that question. So tired of hiding the guilt, pain, and regret that was suffocating every aspect of her relationship with her partner, that she broke down and told her best friend. And now she knows that he was right, things do have to change, but she still doesn't know how to change them. She still remembers Angela's advice from that night.

"Oh, Sweetie. Booth's waited for you for so long, he's always been there for you. He loves you, and I'm pretty sure you love him. You should give him a chance. It's the least you can do."

But she's trapped. She's committed to this separation, and so is he. And she's begun to think that it was what they needed—this time and distance- so the chance he wanted her to take could become a sure thing. Because she needed to trust and believe as much as he did. Slowly, as she dug and studied and squinted on that isolated island—she realized she loves him. Really loves him. That night at the Hoover she had been afraid love wasn't enough. That she would hurt him and he would hurt her and everything would fall apart. But by not even trying, by being afraid of love's risks and intimacies, she had already hurt him. And because she hurt him, she hurt herself, too. Now she knows what change they have to make.

In the months away from him, she's come to think of loving Booth as an inevitability. After all the things they've been through, all the patience he's shown, and the love and support he's selflessly given her—how could she help but love him? He deserves so much more, but if he wants her love, she'll give it to him. It's the least she could do.

They've been back for a month, called home early to save Cam, once again averting crisis. And things have changed. It's not the change she had planned, the one she had hoped for during those long tropical nights. The change still involves love and happiness, but not hers, not theirs together. He has found someone else. Booth has moved on and left her behind- when she was finally ready to stop moving and stay with him. She tries to ignore the distance, the disconnect between them. Worse now than in that tense, painful first month after she rejected his offer and refused to take a chance on them. She tries to forget the change she had hoped for, the love she feels. And so she pretends not to care about the meals he never shares with her and the truths he no longer confides in her.

She still remembers what he said to her that last night before they both boarded planes and escaped to unknown corners of the world. He said to let him know if something's wrong. Please. That it was the least she could do. But she can't tell him now. She'll have to break that promise she made all those months ago. She knows he won't mind. Because what's wrong- so, so wrong for her is right for him. She can't tell him and ruin everything he's built for himself. She can't crush his heart again. So she'll smile and hope for his happiness the way he's always hoped for hers. She'll never let him know what's wrong.

Because this is the change he deserves. Because he doesn't need her lifetime, her 30 or 40 or 50 years anymore, he needs Hannah's. And no matter how much that hurts her, no matter how wrong it feels- she'll never tell him. She has accepted that she loves him, but now she'll have to let him go. And she hates that. The separation that was supposed to last a year has become a separation that will last a lifetime. And some small part of her wants to hate Hannah because of it. But he loves Hannah. He loves Hannah, so she will try to love her, too

It's the least she can do.

Still new at this so...please let me know what you think.