You all know the drill...Bones and all recognizable characters belong to people way more important than me. I just wanted to play with them for a while.

I know it's been a long time since I posted anything, but real life has been keeping me pretty busy. This is just a short little follow up to "The Pain In The Heart." Enjoy.


"Let me take you home, Bones," Booth said as they sat side by side on the steps of the Jeffersonian.

"My car is here," she replied.

"I can bring you back to get it tomorrow," he assured her.

She looked over at him and started to argue the impracticality of it, but the tenderness in his gaze stopped the words before they ever formed. Instead, she found herself nodding her agreement. "Okay."

Booth got to his feet and then reached for her hand to pull her up as well. "Go get your things, Bones. I'll tell the others that we're leaving."

"Thanks, Booth."

He merely nodded before heading up the stairs. When he reached the top, he was met by several curious gazes. "She's fine," he informed them all. "I'm going to take her home."

"Take care of her, Booth," Angela stated.

"I will," he promised. Then he turned on his heel and went to find Brennan, wondering how on earth he was going to keep that promise when he was still dealing with his own raw emotions over Zack's involvement.

The ride to Brennan's apartment was spent in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts, both wondering how this could have happened right under their noses. When Booth pulled into the parking lot of her apartment, she finally turned her attention to him. She wasn't sure she really wanted to be alone yet, but she didn't really want to admit it. Hoping he would understand, she fixed her gaze on his. "Booth, do you want to come up for a while?"

"Sure, Bones," he agreed, thankful that she was willing to prolong the evening, not sure he was ready to be alone just yet.

They walked to her apartment in silence and it wasn't until they were both inside that she spoke again. "Do you want something to drink? Or something to eat maybe?"

"A beer would be good," he replied, wondering how much alcohol it would take for him to numb the emotions coursing through him.

Brennan walked to the kitchen and retrieved two beers as Booth pulled off his jacket and tie and draped them on the back of her chair. He was just getting settled on the couch when she returned. She held out one of the beers to him and then sat down next to him. They both took a long pull of their drinks before Booth sighed and leaned his head against the back of the couch.

Brennan looked over at him and then sat her beer on the coffee table. "Could we have prevented this, Booth?"

Booth stared at the ceiling for a long time before he finally answered her. "I don't know, Bones."

"There had to have been signs somewhere along the way, right? Something that we overlooked, something that should've warned us that something wasn't right?"

"I really don't know," he replied honestly. "All that I really know for certain is that we can't blame ourselves. Zack made his own choices and he'll have to live with the consequences of those choices."

She shifted sideways on the couch, tucking one leg underneath her, to look at him. "Can you honestly tell me that you're not placing a little bit of blame on your own shoulders?" she asked as she took in the slump of his shoulders. "Because if you can, I'd like you to tell me how to do that. How do I not feel partly responsible for this?"

Booth leaned forward and sat his beer next to hers on the table before shifting his position to mirror hers. Taking one of her hands in his, he met her gaze. "When your dad was arrested for murder, did you feel responsible for that?"

"No," she replied with a shake of her head. "But that was different."

"How?" he asked as he absent-mindedly stroked his thumb across the back of her hand, taking comfort from the simple contact.

"He wasn't my protege', my student...my responsibility."

"Zack isn't your responsibility either," Booth protested. "He's a grown man who is responsible for his own actions."

"He was my student though," she argued. "I should've recognized what he was going through."

His voice was calm when he answered her. "He stopped being your student a long time ago, Bones."

Tears once again filled her eyes as she looked down to where their hands lay intertwined on her leg. "It's not fair, Booth."

"I know," he agreed.

"This isn't supposed to happen in our own backyard," she continued.

"I know," he echoed.

She lifted her free hand to wipe at the tears that ran unchecked down her face. After a long minute, she lifted her gaze back to his. "I don't know how to get past this," she admitted.

"It's okay," he assured her. "We don't have to have all of the answers right now. We'll find them."

Her eyes dropped back to their joined hands for the briefest of moments before locking on his again. "Together?" she asked, hating herself for needing the reassurance, but desperate to hear it regardless.

"Always," he promised her. "I'm not leaving you, Bones."

He watched her as she weighed the truth behind his statement and came to a decision. A slight curve of her mouth hinted at a smile when she nodded at him. "I forgive you for not telling me you weren't dead."

Recognizing her attempt to lighten the mood, he flashed her a small smile. "And I forgive you for decking me at my own funeral."

She allowed herself a small smile as she squeezed his hand. "Thank you for saving my life, Booth."

"You don't have to thank me, Bones. I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Her eyes once again locked with his and he wondered what was going through her head as she studied him. She surprised him when she spoke. "You're a good man, Seeley Booth. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

He dropped his eyes from hers, memories of the many lives he'd taken flashing through his mind. It was her finger under his chin that forced his gaze back to meet hers. "And that includes yourself," she told him.

He wanted to argue with her, to make her understand the truth, but before he could give voice to the protest, she leaned over and brushed her lips against his in what had to be the sweetest kiss he'd ever received in his life. "You are a good man, Booth," she repeated, her breath whispering across his face, mingling with his own.

He managed to shake his head in protest, but she lifted both of her hands to his cheeks, holding him still as she leaned in and brushed her lips against his again. "You are, Booth."

His eyes locked with hers and he couldn't force his gaze away. He wondered if she had any idea what it meant to him to hear her say that she thought he was a good man. As he stared into her eyes, hoping somehow to communicate to her what he couldn't find the words to say, he was overwhelmed by his feelings for her.

When she blinked and dropped her hands from his face, he wondered if he'd scared her. She surprised him again though when she took one of his hands in hers and lifted his arm around her shoulders as she shifted her position to snuggle against his side. "First thing tomorrow, we're going to talk about your damn line, Booth. I don't like it anymore. I'm not sure I ever have."

"Okay," he agreed as he pulled her closer and placed a tender kiss against her head. "What about tonight?"

"Tonight we're just going to sit here and I'm going to let you be strong for me."

"I can do that," he replied as he shifted so they were more comfortable, not missing the significance of what she'd just offered him.

"Promise me that we'll get through this?" she asked.

"I promise," he assured her. "And we will all come out stronger on the other side."

"Good enough for me," she replied as she settled her head against his chest.

He wrapped both arms around her and held her tight as she slowly relaxed and drifted off to sleep. It wasn't until he was satisfied that she was resting peacefully that he allowed his own eyes to drift closed, a glimmer of hope for what could be bringing a soft smile to his lips as he joined her in sleep.


If you feel so inclined, I would love to hear from you. It might even inspire me to spend my free nights this week writing.