Disclaimer : I don't own Bones or its characters/storyline or Little Lion Man they both belong to their own creators/writers/artists.

For Amy because she's the one that got this song stuck in my head.

Little Lion Man

Weep for yourself, my man,
You'll never be what is in your heart
Weep Little Lion Man,
You're not as brave as you were at the start

"RAR!" He yells, jumping over the couch startling his mother. His father is not home from work yet, and the world is perfect. "RAR! I'm a hungry lion and I am going to eat you all up!"

"Oh no!" his mother gasps, throwing up her hands. "A lion! Whatever shall I do!"

She trots from the room frightened. He runs after her, believing she really thinks him a lion. The chase last for a few minutes until he finally catches up to her and pounces. His mother covers her face pleading for him not to eat her. He stops mid roar, worried she does not recognize him. He pulls the hood of his Halloween costume from his head.

"It's just me mommy!" he crys frightened he has taking his pretending to far. He pulls at her hands trying to see her face. "See is just me, Seeley. I won't eat you Mommy. Mommy?"

Suddenly he finds himself wrapped in her embrace his exposed belly being tickled and his mother's laughter rings out clearly around him, mixing with his. He is happy and everything feels right. Soon though the moment slips passed and the slam of the front door reminds him of the reality. The yelling starts almost instantly. Then the slamming of other things, his father's heavy foot falls through the house. He runs away up the stairs to his brother's room. Finding his brother still asleep he closes the door again quietly. His mother cries out in pain and he flies down the stairs again.

"Leave Mommy alone!" He yells pulling at his father's hand. He is struck across the face and the memory fades.

Rate yourself and rake yourself,
Take all the courage you have left
Wasted on fixing all the problems
That you made in your own head

He sits alone staring dully into the bottle of liquor beside him. He hasn't touched in over an hour. What little is in his glass long forgotten. He thinks of throwing the bottle across the room, the liquid within is the same auburn color of her hair. Her soft long hair that always smells like lavender. Instead of the bottle, he throws her as far from his mind as he can; which of course is not very far. He sighs knocking back the whiskey, concentrating on the burn of it on its way down. How had everything gotten so turned upside down?

He was the strong one. He always had been. He had protected his brother from their father, protected his mother when he could. He protected her, layed down his life for her more times than he could count. He had died for her once, died in her arms, unable to reassure her when she started to cry; begging him to stay with her. He had had to watch as she receded into herself at his funeral. Reset herself back to the woman she was before he met her. Yet he had resisted the over bearing urge to run up to her, wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was ok. That he was still here. But he hadn't. Being the strong one was written in his DNA.

Yet here he sat, drowning himself in whiskey and tears that periodically escaped in torrents. He had almost cried in front of her once; but managed to hold them back. He shifts pouring himself another glass of whiskey. He wonders what he is going to do. How he is going to be able to treat her the same, knowing what he does now? He thinks back to their first case, how much she had hated him. How much malice had been in that slap of her's. His face burns with the memory as he takes another numbing swig of liquor.

But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really messed it up this time
Didn't I, my dear?
Didn't I, my dear?

The tears come again. He feels like a child, unable to control himself. Why hadn't he said more? Why had he shut her out? Because she shut you out first. Comes the voice in the back of his mind. He grits his teeth ordering the voice to be silent, taking a long draught straight from the bottle now, there isn't enough left to worry pouring it out now. Why hadn't he said how he felt? Why had he pushed her away like that? Drawing a line in the sand, and telling her never to cross it again. That he could never love her like he had again, that she had missed her chance. That to him, she was nothing more than a co-worker, nothing more than a partner.

Tremble for yourself, my man,
You know that you have seen this all before
Tremble Little Lion Man,
You'll never settle any of your scores

He wants nothing more than to escape. Escape from the pain, escape from the emptiness in his chest, escape from his life. Everything and everyone in his life passes over his blurred vision, and he feels the shutter of his shoulders. His world is crashing down around him and the only one that could save him, he has driven from him. He feels like someone is stabbing him in the chest over and over, and for a moment he imagines there is. He imagines himself bleeding out in the middle of his kitchen floor, the memory of her face burning in his mind. It would be an easy way out, and easy way to escape the mistakes that have brought him to this moment.

He squeezes his temples between his hands, trying to curb his sobbing; but he finds he cannot. He let that moment pass him by. He let himself tell her he was over her. He let her walk out of that bar alone. He made her believe he was through with her. He had done everything he had promised her he would never do. He had been the one to hurt her. He had protected her from everyone but himself. He feels sick as he realizes the parallels between himself and his father. After so many years of running from his father's memory, it all came back to him in the end.

Your grace is wasted in your face,
Your boldness stands alone among the wreck
Now learn from your mother or else spend your days Biting your own neck

Why had he pushed her that night? Why hadn't he waited? Why hadn't he let her figure things out for herself? Why had he gambled on the one thing, she had held too precious to gamble on herself? A fresh set of tears pours down his face. Why had he only given her those two options? Why hadn't he paid attention to the look on her face? A loud sob escapes his lips as he realizes he did notice it. He did notice how painful his words had been. But because of the angel that she was she had taken it. Remained by his side, and drank herself sick just so he wouldn't be alone. His stomach lurched that though she had rejected him she had never left him, not like Rebecca and Hannah had. She had taken her mistake in stride realizing she was going to have to live with it; and had settled for his anger rather than not having him in her life at all.

Why hadn't he learned from his mother's mistake? In the end he had left her just like his mother had left him and his brother. He grabs his hair in frustration, trying to resist the urge to lash out. He fails. The whiskey bottle shatters to the floor along with the glass. He stubbles from the kitchen, and down the hall to his room. He never makes it collapsing in the hallway and curling into a ball; finally giving in to the sadness he's held inside for far too long.

But it was not your fault but mine

"Booth?" he hears his name, but cannot respond; paralyzed by how tired he is, how worthless he feels.

And it was your heart on the line

"Booth…oh my god…Booth?" There's her voice again. No it isn't real. He's dreaming again. He feels her hands pressing against his chest. "Booth can you hear me? Booth stay awake…stay with me."

I really messed it up this time

Suddenly he feels the dampness of his shirt, turning his blurred vision towards where her hands rest. His grey t-shirt is stained red. What happened? He glances about weakly; a bloody knife rests by the kitchen door. What has he done? He looks up, tears are brimming her eyes as she tries to stop the bleeding. He tries to speak to tell her everything; but all he can manage is a faint I'm sorry before everything slips away from him.

Didn't I, my dear?

Didn't I my dear?

Ahhhhhh…..

Pain everything slowly comes into focus. He is lying in a bed, he feels the bandages against his chest. He wants to open his eyes but they will not move, and neither will his body, so he listens. The soft beep of an EKG machine, the low murmur of people outside his room; and then her voice washes over him. She is speaking to someone, another unfamiliar voice responding.

But it was not your fault but mine

"He may never wake up Brennan…we may have to face the fact that he could be like this for the rest of his life." He remembers the voice, it's his brother. Jared. "You can't stand there and tell me you think he's going to pull through this…he stabbed himself 5 times in the chest. He shouldn't be alive right now Temperance!"

And it was your heart on the line

"No. He will wake up." She says, defiance framing her every word. "I will not give up on him, Jared. I can't. Not after everything he has done for me. ..him. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. I am still his medical proxy not you. And Booth will be the one to decide when he is going to come back. Not me and most defiantly not you!"

I really messed it up this time

He feels a tear trail down his face. Why can't he open his eyes? Why can't he speak? The memory floods back. He realizes the moment he thought he had imagined was real and that Jared's words were correct. How long had he laid there unable to realize he was bleeding to death? How had she found him? He realizes it doesn't matter. She had been the one to find him. He has to tell her he is still here. After everything she had been the one to save him after all. How could he have done this to her? Anger wells in his chest. He can't give up. He has to tell her he was wrong.

Didn't I, my dear?

Her hand slides gently under his, while the other wipes away the stray tear from his cheek. He takes comfort in the gesture, the warmth of her touch. He will come back to her, he knows he will. But for now he will sleep and she will wait.

Didn't I, my dear?