"There's no way to turn this thing around

It's all here in this letter that you've found

So memorize it line for line

I won't be there to say goodbye"

"The letter" - Hoobastank


The bar was already full that night by the time Booth walked in the door. In the corner the "squints" had already gathered. He was late, and not fashionably so. He'd spent nearly an hour deliberating over whether or not he should come. If Vick was after him then he was a target. And by association so were his friends.

Before heading over he stopped by the bartender and got a beer. He didn't have much intention of drinking it. From now on he needed to remain on high alert. But he had to do so without giving anything away. No one was to know about Booth's problem if he could help it. The less they knew the better off they were.

"Hey, Booth," Angela was the first to notice his presence.

He answered the numerous greetings he received. Next to Brennan he took a seat, setting his already perspiring bottle on top of the table.

Brennan didn't waste time getting down to business. "Mm," she took a swig of her drink and put it down roughly. "Where'd you go today? Hacker called me and said we're off the case."

"Yeah," he muttered darkly.

"Did you do something wrong?"

He recoiled. "What makes you think I did something wrong?"

Brennan was oblivious to him feeling insulted. "You've never been pulled off a case before."

A loud noise behind them caused Booth's head to snap around. There was no missing the sudden tightness of his muscles. His hand went immediately to his hip. Booth was poised, tensed and ready for trouble.

Luckily the din was just the sound of a drunk staggering across the floor. He'd tripped into the bar top and knocked over several glasses and bottles. They'd crashed onto the floor in a messy pile of shattered glass.

Still, Booth didn't quite relax.

"Booth?" Brennan pulled his attention back.

"Look, Bones, I don't know." Something in the air felt funny to him. He'd made it through life by being suspicious. Trusting his instincts. Something told him he needed to leave for the protection of his friends. Now. "I'm not feeling real great," he stood while mumbling. "I'm going to go."

"But you just got here. Now I've upset you." She said sadly.

He forced himself to smile. "No, you didn't, Bones. I'll see you tomorrow." He hated lying to her. But there was no guarantee he would see her tomorrow. Or ever again, with the way things were shaping up to be.

He didn't utter a word to anyone else as he abandoned his drink and went back outside into the dark night. As he walked his still kept his hand on his hip, ready to retrieve his weapon at a moment's notice. Across the street he headed for his car. A female voice called after him. "Booth?"

He froze. Brennan had followed him. What did he do now? Hadn't he made it clear back inside the bar? Usually Brennan was socially inept. Awkward. When it came to body language she was clueless. Guess over the years as they'd become close friends as well as partners she'd learned a bit about his. Gradually he turned around to face her.

"Where are you going?" She stopped just in front of him.

"I told you, home. It's been a long day."

"I didn't mean to upset you," she insisted weakly.

"Bones," he exhaled. Guiltily he allowed his eyes to meet hers. What could he tell her? "You didn't. It's okay."

"Then why are you leaving?" She wasn't willing to let go so easily. "Come back inside."

"I have to go." He unlocked the doors on his car to illustrate his point.

"Booth," she took a hold of his hand, shocking him, as he was turning away. "This all started after Hacker ended our case. Something else obviously happened. What's going on?"

"Nothing. I just," he faced her. Tenderly he braced her arms. "I want to go home and lay down. Watch the game. I don't feel like company tonight."

"But you were fine-"

Behind her two arguing men spilled out into the street from the bar. Booth straightened, closing what was already little space between them. His arms snaked around her waist, holding her close when she tried to take a step back. Their faces were mere inches apart. She looked up into his eyes to find him looking past her. Once he asserted the situation was safe he was quick to let her go.

"Booth, what-"

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said breathlessly and got into his car without another word. His hands were shaking as he put the key into the ignition. Being around Brennan was sometimes a full time job in itself. Secretly he'd been pining away for her for quite some time. Being in a close proximity such as that made things all that much more difficult. He could still smell her perfume on his clothes. Out he pulled his car into traffic.

Brennan stood alone on the sidewalk. Something was wrong with him. It wasn't too often she could tell. But his strange behavior was troublesome. The look in his eyes when he'd had her against his body had been fright. It was something she hardly ever saw in him. Something had triggered the response, and it seemed unlikely he'd be alarmed by two drunks.

She waited until his car was out of sight. Then she went back inside the bar, losing herself in her worry.

***

All night Booth was plagued with nightmares. Vick had him held captive, forcing him to watch while he tortured Brennan, and eventually took her life. He came to furiously, waking himself with his own cry. He sat upright so fast he became dizzy. His heart pounded to a beat of a fast tempo. It felt ready to drum right out of his body.

Breathlessly he looked over at his bedside clock. It was a bit past four in the morning. If his dreams were any indication of what was ahead then he didn't want to fall back asleep. But it was too early to start his day. With Vick on the loose he had to remain as sharp as possible. Back in the Army he'd been trained to stay awake for days. However that was long ago. He doubted he'd still be able.

Breathing deeply, he laid back down. He tried to slow his heart beat. Obviously his mind was trying to tell him what his heart already knew. For his friends. For Brennan. For Parker. He had to leave.

Somehow he'd drifted off again when his phone rang not more than an hour and a half later. He answered it feeling less than rested. "Booth."

"Hey, sorry I woke you," Sweets began tentatively. "But you said to call as soon as I had a profile on Vick, and I got one."

"Is he a threat to his victim's families?" Was all Booth uttered in response. That was all he really wanted to know. Exhaustion lowered his defensive walls.

"Yeah. He's a pretty twisted dude. He tries to get at these officers by going through their families and friends."

Booth squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Why had he let himself hope for anything different? "Okay. Thanks, Sweets."

Sweets sounded confused. "Don't you want to hear the rest?"

"I'll get it from you later." Only he wouldn't, because Booth wouldn't be showing up to work. He wouldn't be seeing any of his friends for some time.

Before Sweets could say anything else Booth hung up. He rolled onto his back, his gaze falling on the ceiling. There was no choice. Leaving was his only option. Over and over again he just needed to keep telling himself that.

All while he packed and prepared to leave he kept his mind preoccupied. Most of his friends would accept whatever pliable excuse he'd come up with. All except for one. Brennan. And if he knew his Bones like he was sure he did, she wouldn't let him off so easily. She'd follow him, risking both their lives in the process. What could he do to keep that from happening?

The answer was simple. But the thought of it near killed him. He had to hurt her. Startle her. Get her to hate him so much that the thought of going after him would never strike her. When, or if, he returned, he'd have to button down the hatches and hoped he'd survived the storm.

Before leaving his apartment he forced himself to do the deed. At his kitchen table he sat down with a pen and paper. Notes were so informal. But it was better than attempting to do it in person. That was a feat he didn't have enough strength to do.

But what was he going to do? What could he say that would send her running to Guatemala, and not chasing after him? The inspiration that finally hit him nearly knocked him out of his chair. He stared down at the lined paper, daring himself. If he wrote the words that were playing out through his mind then it would change everything between them forever. Getting her back when he returned would be difficult, if at all achievable. If, he reminded himself, he did survive. As far as Vick went Booth was doing little to cover his tracks. He wanted to lead him away.

In the end he abandoned caution. Recklessly he jotted down the way he felt about her. The feelings he'd kept buried deep within his heart for so long. Once he was finished he hurriedly stuffed the letter into an envelope before he changed his mind. Before heading to the airport he'd drop by the Jeffersonian and leave it in her office.

Booth stuffed the letter in his back pocket. Up over his shoulder he carted a large duffel bag full of clothes and basic necessities. Before leaving he took one last good look at his apartment. Then he turned off the light and left.