Disclaimer: If you're looking for Fox, Kathy Reichs, or anyone else associated with Bones... you've clearly made a wrong turn somewhere! ;P

Author's Note: Diiiiid I say this was going to be two parts? Heh heh. Yeah. Make that three. I will absolutely make sure this story is complete before the episode airs, but exhaustion has a way of creeping up on you when you least expect it, and considering I've been slaving away at work all day...

Here's the part where I draw heavily from the sneak peek in which Brennan is found, so spoilers beware! I chose to disregard the other two - the fight clip because I already wrote that and I didn't want to edit my story overmuch (also, who knew that Christine was already fourteen months!? Gah, where has the time gone?), and the one with Christine Brennan isn't relevant because this is from Booth's point of view, not Brennan's. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter and let's all fangirl together that Monday is almost upon us, kay? ;P

"Fight"
Part 2 of 3

Christine fussed almost the entire car ride, no doubt expressing her immense displeasure at having been displaced from her warm and comfy bed. It wasn't until they pulled into the Jeffersonian that she finally lightened up, pointing out the window and chirping "Nu-Nu! Nu-Nu!"

"No, no Ms. Noonan today, sweetpea." Once upon a time, Christine had been enrolled in the Jeffersonian's in-house daycare, but that was before Brennan's constant meddling drove the aides batty. Max stepped in for a little while, but when his babysitting availability diminished, Booth had to cajole Cam into getting involved. Under her pressure, the daycare relented, reluctantly allowing Christine to attend a special three-day-a-week play group with the other children whenever Max was busy. The much enamored "Nu-Nu" was Christine's teacher and head of program, Ms. Noonan... the irony of which being that it had been Ms. Noonan herself who petitioned so fervently in the beginning that Christine should be expelled, to save everyone the trials of her emotionally taxing mother. It never failed to amuse Booth at how irked and how jealous Brennan became whenever the woman was brought up in conversational gibberish by their little daughter, and it was this he thought of with a chuckle as Booth carefully untangled the happily bouncing Christine from her seat. "We're going to see Mommy, remember?"

"Muh-ma," the baby cooed.

"Yes, Mama, and we're gonna go tell her how sorry we are so that Mommy feels better," Booth said, now strapping Christine into her stroller. Once he was sure the belts were secure, the two made their commute through the parking lot, and Christine began singing random notes as she banged atop her small table.

Booth sighed. "Bones is still going to kill me for keeping you up this late, though."

They entered the enormous acropolis of knowledge into a heavy pall of silence. Even Christine went still - tense, almost - as they rolled across the marbled floor, and Booth had to shiver when they passed the examination platform. His eerie dream from before replayed itself in horribly vivid detail, leaving the man a stomach-churning combination of sick and guilty.

"Bones?" Booth called. He peeked into her office - no Brennan. There was really only one other place he expected her to be right now.

"Bones, you here?" Booth traversed the hallway, past Angela's study and toward the bone room. "Look, I'm sorry, alright, you're the best mother in the world. I miss you. Christine misses you."

The bone room came into view. Booth stopped dead in his tracks, and the sensation of numb disbelief that followed was akin to that of an ice bucket dumping a gallon of frigid water down his chest, then spreading outward.

"Bones...?"

She was laid out spread-eagle on the ground, tools scattered helter-skelter as if toppled in a skirmish. But Booth did not see any of this, at first. No, there was one thing and one thing alone that captured his attention, and it was now the only thing he could focus on amidst the rushing staccato of his heart.

"Oh my God. Oh my God."

Blood. Why was there so much blood.

Breath hitching, insides curdling, Booth steered the stroller off to the side, falling to his knees and nearly sliding his way over to the prone form of Brennan. His hands were shaking as he touched first her abdomen, then her neck, searching desperately for a pulse; a sign of life. Out loud, he knew he was babbling, but whatever shock-induced exclamations expelled from his lips were trounced by an even greater turmoil from within.

Nononoshecan'tbepleasenoohgodnoplease-

There.

It was weak, but the fluttering of her heart was still encouragingly, mercifully, beautifully there.

Booth wanted to cry with relief, but he knew he had to act fast. He grabbed a wad of tissue from a nearby table and began staunching the blood that leaked from a gaping bullet hole in Brennan's jacket, trying to rouse her in the process with a gentle shake. "Bones, stay with me!"

Christine was beginning to whimper in the background as Booth whipped out his phone, and belatedly he wondered if the girl was somehow cognizant of the fact that her mother was slowly ailing, despite the contrary evidence Brennan used to spout about formative memories and neural networks and wait someone was finally picking up-

"Yeah, this is Agent Booth, I need an ambulance at the Jeffersonian in the bone room, now. Now!"

Booth tossed his phone haphazardly away; there was no time to waste.

"ANYONE HERE, I NEED SOME HELP!" the frantic man yelled, and Christine's wails increased tenfold at the agitation in his voice. Booth wished he could gather her up and soothe his daughter's tears, but right now his primary concern was keeping Brennan stable. When he turned back and looked down again, his breath stuck: Brennan's eyes were struggling to open! Booth pressed harder on the wound and she tilted her face ever-so-slightly towards his.

"Bones, just stay with me, okay? Everything's gonna be fine. Stay with me!" He could see she was fazing in and out, and he feared he would lose her to unconsciousness again. This was not good. Not. Good. "Bones, wake up! Stay with me, you gotta fight!"

But Brennan's head was lolling, she didn't seem to be listening anymore, or more likely she couldn't hear him as the injured scientist drifted... drifted...

"No, Bones, no - don't you dare leave me! You're gonna be fine, alright, just hold on, hold on for me! For Christine!" Booth pleaded, a hitch in his throat, but Brennan did little more than jerk fruitlessly at the mention of their poor terrified child. She was slipping away from him and he couldn't do a damn thing. "The ambulance is coming, okay? Okay, Bones? Bones!"

She was no longer responding, but that didn't stop Booth from continuing to beg and Christine from continuing to bellow. Time folded in on itself; he couldn't determine how long exactly the family fell apart for in that suffocatingly small room, but help did eventually arrive. Booth cradled Christine tightly as he watched Brennan being boarded onto a stretcher, burying his aching countenance in the baby's matted locks. Terror and fury battled for dominance within the weary confines of the man's mind, and there was one thing Booth knew for certain:

Whoever did this was going to pay.

oOo

The next hour passed in a surreal sort of blur, punctuated by moments of grim reality wherein Booth made the painstaking calls to all of Brennan's friends and family, informing them of her shooting. It was almost more agonizing the second time around, hearing his worst fears come alive in their distressed reactions; recalling the grisly details that led to Brennan nearly dying, alone in a pool of her own blood. He could have prevented all of this so easily if he'd just kept. his. mouth. shut.

oOo

The hospital waiting room had become a very congested place. Max appeared first, and he had barely said two words to Booth before practically assaulting the nearest nurse that walked by, demanding an update on Brennan's condition. The others scrambled in in waves, each handling the stress of the situation in different ways. Angela zeroed in on Booth, completely ignoring his hunched posture and morose brooding to give the man a hug, promising him that it would be alright, Brennan was a fighter. Hodgins tried mightily to keep Michael and Christine occupied, reading to the cranky toddlers - one squiggling on each thigh - from a book about highly dangerous fungi and their effects on humans. Sweets seemed torn between voicing concern over Hodgins' odd methods of entertainment and accosting hospital personnel for information himself, but in the end, it was Cam who had the most success of all of them.

"Thank you so much," the olive-skinned pathologist gushed, and at her dulcet tones, the team glanced up. Cam had found herself a curmudgeonly looking doctor, but the old man belied his gruff appearance with a warm pat on the shoulder, nodding politely at Cam before exiting the room.

She turned to Booth, clasping her hands together and taking a steeling breath. "I'm not sure how I got so lucky, but that doctor I was chatting with? He's an acquaintance of Paul's, and he claims Paul has spoken very highly of my talents in the lab; my prowess with both a working anatomy and a dead one. He is aware we are waiting on news from Dr. Brennan, and he told me that they are prepping her now for an emergency surgery. But, Seeley, he also said that if I wanted, I could... I could be present inside the room, while they perform the operation."

The group went mum, hinging on Booth's go-ahead.

Cam peered into Booth's dark eyes. "I know you wish that they had chosen you. I wish it too, Seeley. But now we have a way in - we can get experienced Squint eyes in there to ensure everything possible is being done. And you know me, Seeley. I won't leave her side. Not for an instant. I won't let her be alone in this."

It was moments like these when everyone saw just how deeply Cam cared for her colleague, despite the silly games the two frequently played over professional hierarchy in the lab.

Booth closed his eyes and worried his forehead with his fists. "Don't let her go on me, Camille."

The woman smiled back an onslaught of intense emotion at his feeble croak. "Never."

TO BE CONTINUED