His blood pooled underneath her hands as she tried desperately to keep him alive. "Don't make me go. Why are you making me go?"

The intern's body was already gone. Only his skeleton remained, but it kept bleeding. Brennan applied pressure where his heart used to be. "We are not losing you," she promised. "You're not going anywhere."

Suddenly, Vincent's fleshless hand seized her arm. "Why are you making me go?" As she looked down, it was Booth's face that she saw. It was Booth's blood on her hands. "Don't make me go." Booth's voice.

Brennan bolted upright; her heart beat erratically as she oriented to her surroundings. Early sunlight filtered into Booth's apartment. The shooting… Broadsky… falling asleep with her partner. 'Why are you making me leave?'

"Bones? What is it?" Booth's voice was on edge. His instinct was to reach for his gun, but that would mean moving his arm from around her. He eased only slightly as he realized she had been dreaming.

She struggled to breathe and grasped for him blindly. She needed to feel him; needed to feel that he was really there. It's daylight. Booth's here. He's alive.

"Talk to me, Bones." He pulled her closer.

It all seemed so clear now. What was she doing? What was she waiting for, when he could be gone at any moment, just like Mr. Nigel-Murray? "I'm relieved it wasn't you," Brennan finally admitted. "I must sound like a horrible person, being relieved that someone else was shot."

"It's human nature," Booth tried to reason, to himself as well as her, as his hand brushed over her hair. "If he hadn't been there, I would've tossed the phone to you. I don't- I couldn't live with that."

She held his hand a little tighter. "You can't get yourself killed, Booth. I- when I close my eyes, it's you lying there."

Booth tried to slow his own breathing. The look in her eyes was scaring him. "I'm right here, Temperance. Look at me."

Brennan shifted slightly, and she did look at him. She looked at him for so long that he began to feel nervous. "I don't want to wait," her voice cracked frantically. "If we wait, it might be too late. I'm sorry I said no, before. "

"Oh, Bones. Don't-"

"Please. If Broadsky, if he- if something happens-" Her voice was desperate as she tried to convey her feelings in words that wouldn't come.

"Don't talk like that. You can't think like that," he said determinedly. If she continued, he didn't think he could hold himself together.

"I love you." Her admission finally tumbled out, and it didn't seem so bad, but the look of pity in his eyes was not what she wanted. "Please… don't die."

For a moment, Booth could only look at her. She looked frail and timid, his sweatshirt covering her small frame. Her eyes were filled with the pain and sadness she had endured for too long, and the fear of rejection he saw there made him hurt inside. He leaned and kissed her slowly. It was hardly how he had imagined so many times, as she lay in his bed. He pulled away as her intensity increased. "I need you to listen to me." He tipped her chin up so that she was facing him. "We are going to get him. Maybe today; maybe tomorrow, but we'll get the bastard. I need to keep a clear head right now. I have to focus."

"I understand." Her voice sounded small, and for a moment she wanted to shrink into the covers.

"No," he continued. "No… I'm not rejecting you, Bones. I love you too much to screw this up, and I want to do it right. I don't think right now is the time." He could hardly look at her directly. This was not how it was supposed to be right after she told him she loved him. It wasn't supposed to be when thoughts were filled with death and snipers, with the weight of the world upon them. How cruel could the universe be?

Brennan closed her eyes, processing as his hand traced a path on her arm. His reasoning was sensible, once she realized he still wanted this, too. There was so much going on. Vincent. Broadsky. Booth wanted to appreciate their moment. He said he loved her too much... Booth loves me.

"When this is over- no more waiting," he stated. He looked at her clearly, now, making sure they were on the same page.

His cell vibrated on the nightstand.

"You should answer. It might be pertinent." She wanted to wish for a few more hours. She wasn't ready for today. It seemed easier somehow, here with Booth. Tomorrow might not be the same.

Booth looked at her clearly before reaching for his phone. "No more waiting."