She was unable to remove herself from him. She was enveloped in his scent, his warmth and she was stuck to him, seemingly paralyzed.
It had been a particularly traumatic case for her. The killer had targeted young, abused children in foster care. Brennan was able to work through the entire case without flinching, but upon the killer's capture and eventual death, her compartmentalizing methods faltered. She had taken the kill this time and not Booth. As he tried to flee and as they followed after him, he found that he had been cornered. Turning abruptly, he produced his previously concealed weapon and wielded it sinisterly in their direction. She took the shot. The bullet tore through the middle of his forehead, causing brain matter to spray behind him and he dropped. The killer had managed to shoot once before Brennan discharged her weapon and Booth was hit. Brennan ran to him as he lay on the ground and began tearing at him. Tearing at his clothes frantically, wishing that the vest had protected her partner.
And it had. She ripped the rest of his shirt off him and began clawing at his vest. Booth was alive, struggling for air a bit and obviously stunned at his partner's reaction. There were no words from her, only frantic and desperate actions. Booth tried to still her hands but she swatted him away forcefully. She needed to see with her own eyes, she needed to view the evidence in front of her, in order to assess his ability to live. She knew, in a recess of her mind, that he was fine, but irrational emotions set in and she continued to forcefully grab at his vest until she met his warm body beneath it. She began to press against his heart with her palm to make sure it was beating. Booth stilled. Whether it was because her actions scared him, whether it was because the bullet literally knocked the wind out of him or whether the look in her eyes paralyzed him, Booth remained stoic and still for her. He knew that she needed to do this. He knew that she was reliving his past "death." And so he stilled.
Her hands began to shake, along with her body and tears sprang to life and were unleashed. She was sobbing and Booth felt his heart break and yet swell at the same time. A small part of him had always wondered how she could have been so unemotional at his funeral, once he learned that she had not been informed of his survival, after all their years working alongside each other. He always wondered if the connection he tried so hard to build was clearly imaginary, as she seemed so detached and aloof once she realized that he was really alive. But seeing her like this, in this moment, dissipated any of his previous insecurities about their connection. She loved him. He knew it, finally, and so he began to smile.
He just laid there, feeling her shaking body, feeling her warm hand on his heart and feeling the tears falling upon him and smiled. Brennan focused on the beating rhythm within his chest and her fears began to subside and yet she continued to sob. Her body wracked with tremors and all of the feelings from his first "death" came to the surface. Perhaps she would eventually blame her fatigue from the case that had abruptly ended before them moments ago. Or perhaps she would blame her sensitivity to foster care cases. Or perhaps, Booth prayed, she would finally just listen to her own heart and finally open to the possibility that he was the one with whom she was meant to spend her life.