Category: TV

Sub-Category: Bones

Paring: Brennan/Booth

Episode: The Wannabe in the Weeds – The Pain in the Heart

Summary: When Booth fakes his death, a distraught Brennan runs away to escape her epiphany – she loves Booth. Will Booth be able to find her and convince her that he is actually alive? Can he do it before she shuns all emotional contact and retreats into the cold person she was before?

AN: Hey! Just a little something I was thinking about when I watched Bones reruns (I am so glad that they are on the Netflix Wii thingy). Not sure how far I will go with it…

Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Bones. If I did, why would I be writing fanfiction about it? Duh.

…..

Flashback

I come home in the morning light
My mother says when you gonna live your life right
Oh mother dear we're not the fortunate ones
And girls they want to have fun
Oh girls just want to have fun

She was experiencing a feeling of elation that she only came upon by singing. And Booth.

And here she was, up on the stage, smiling and singing her heart out. She saw Booth's big smile and sang louder.

She was soaring.

That's all they really want
Some fun
When the working day is done
Girls - they want to have fun
Oh girls just want to have fun

She was dancing. She was having fun.

BANG. In a flash it was over. She saw Pam, the suspect girlfriend, pointing a gun. She saw Booth go down.

No, she thought, no.

There was screaming, crying, and sounds of horror. But none of it mattered. Booth. Booth mattered. Booth was hurt. Booth was down.

She was at his side before her brain had finished analyzing the situation. He was in pain. He was dying.

She turned and saw Pam point again. As she shielded Booth with her body, she reached into his holster and grabbed his gun. She shot. Pam went down.

She didn't have time to consider the effects of her actions. Booth was losing blood. Booth was going to die.

No! She thought again, this time with more vigor.

"Booth, you're going to be fine" she assured him. But she knew that the assurance was more for her that Booth. He was going to be fine.

He had to be fine.

"I'm right here," she whispered, hysteria threatening to overload her senses and her logic as she applied pressure on the wound.

"You're going to do this. You going to be fine." She was close to sobs now. She couldn't lose him.

"Come on! Come on Booth!" She was forceful now. She would not lose him. No.

She repeated the words to herself as she grasped his body to hers. She held him as though she could keep the life in him.

She felt him losing consciousness. She heard the ambulance coming. She was numb with the pain.

"I'm sorry."

That's all I heard the doctor say. And then I knew. I knew that he was gone.

As the doctor continued to say something about 'complications' and 'grievances', I keep my gaze to the carpeted hospital waiting room floor. I focused my mind on the ugly, stained, green-and-purple colored flooring, and ignored the other part of my brain and body that was screaming at me (metaphorically, of course. Body parts and brains do not scream). I wondered who had picked it out, and why they would choose such an awful color. What could they have possibly been thinking? Even before the stains and the wear and age, I imagined it had been just as ugly.

For the first time in my remembered life, I chose not to think. I ignored what the doctor was telling me. I ignored everything. I didn't think. I didn't compartmentalize. I just sat. Numb in my blank state.

I heard Angela sobbing. It broke the haze surrounding my usually sharp mind, forcing me to acknowledge the presence of my colleagues and friends.

When I forced myself to look up from that horrid carpet, I found that they (Angela, Sweets, Zach, Hodgins, and Cam) were all looking at me. I couldn't look back into their faces. It would force me to think about – or at least acknowledge the happening of – the events of the evening. And I couldn't do that. Not without breaking down, something that I couldn't do in front of anyone – not even Angela.

The only one who I might feel comfortable talking with was Bo-

No. I stopped that at once. That constituted to thinking, and I had strictly prohibited that.

I needed to get away. I wanted to go home, where I would be alone.

I stood up stiffly, and walked out, but not before stating to my friends that I would see them at work on Monday.

I vaguely recall getting a cab home after remembering that my car was at The Checkerbox because I rode in the ambulance.

And then I was home, turning my key in the lock.

I sat down on the couch. My head felt like it might explode, my headache was so much. I put my head in my hands, but quickly drew them away upon noticing the sticky substance that still coated them.

Blood.

Booth's blood.

And then it really hit.

Booth was dead.

Booth was dead and he wasn't coming back.

And I started to sob – louder than I ever had before – and found that I couldn't stop.