Chapter 2

Booth drove the familiar route to the hospital on auto-pilot, thinking how many times he or she had made this trip, worried sick about the other. Wishing he still had a siren to speed his way, he pulled into the first spot he saw and strode into the trauma center. Instinctively reaching for the badge that had rested in his breast pocket for so many years, Booth grimaced realizing he'd have to muster some patience like 'regular people' and knowing that Brennan wouldn't have let retirement stop her from demanding an immediate update on his condition if the situation was reversed.

"My wife Temperance Brennan was brought in by ambulance from an accident. Can you tell me her condition?" he asked the information desk clerk.

"Have a seat, please, sir, and let me check; Brennan, you said?"

Booth sank into the nearest chair, and pulled out his phone. Entering the familiar number, he left a message for his younger son. Then he called Parker's and Christine's phones and repeated his sad message, knowing all three would be in touch as soon as they could.

Then, there was nothing to do but wait, and pray. Hard.

Fortunately, Zach was not in surgery, and returned the page within a half hour. He assured his father he'd call the physician treating his mother, and be on his way to the medical center as soon as he could.

Before long, Parker and Christine had called back, and joined their dad's anxious vigil. Everyone in their offices knew who their parents were, and took over their work for the day, pushing the anthropologist and the FBI agent out the door and to the hospital.

The news wasn't good. The front of Brennan's car was demolished back to the firewall, and despite its air bags, she had sustained severe neck and head trauma. The medical team would try their best but there were no promises. The only mercy was that she'd been knocked unconscious so quickly, she most likely had felt no pain.

As a result of Booth and Brennan's past hospitalizations when hurt in the line of duty, the trauma and surgery staff knew the partners well. She had gained a degree of notoriety within the DC medical community when Booth suffered a gunshot wound to the head in Afghanistan and his skull shattered during surgery to retrieve the bullet. Brennan had calmly asked for surgical glue and a sterile tray, reassembled the fragments and glued the piece back into place on Booth's skull. The OR video record of her work had been used in medical schools ever since. Those familiar with her skills were not surprised by the achievement as news of Booth's successful recovery spread back in the States.

Dr. Jursik had retired, but his son had followed him into neurosurgery and Zach called him requesting help for his mother. Joint ER/Surgical consults were held to determine an appropriate course of treatment to mitigate the physical damage from the collision. Familiar with his dad's removal of Booth's brain tumor, the junior Dr. Jursik quietly called his father for advice.

Brennan had suffered a calamitous concussion, and a craniectomy was performed to relieve the resulting elevated intracranial pressure before any further surgical intervention could be undertaken. She was moved to the ICU, and her family waited for the outcome. Christine was distraught, but the pressure on her brothers was worse. Having followed his beloved 'Dr. Bones' into forensic anthropology, Parker was painfully aware of the horrific effects of blunt force trauma injuries to the brain. As a surgeon, Zach knew all too well everything that could go wrong under these dire circumstances.

Throughout a week of waiting and daily brain scans, Booth rarely left Brennan's bedside. He was in excellent health for a man of 83, and would not have budged from his chair if left to his own devices. But he was no longer alone in his love and concern for Brennan. His children, grandchildren and friends, brought him coffee, took him to eat, and forcibly escorted him home to sleep with assurances that Brennan would have company at all times. He would have preferred dozing on a cot in her room but acquiesced grudgingly. Hearing her fuss at him inside his head, he realized he'd only make matters worse if he fell ill as well. Realizing now what she had gone through during his coma all those years ago, he'd carried on a silent conversation with her ever since the accident, and felt her worry for their children. They knew each other so well, he could hear her opinions, observations, and comments bubbling around in his heart and soul, and it comforted him in an inexplicable way.

Brennan's magnificent brain showed no signs of activity, and after agonized consultations, Zach and her doctors came into the room. One glance at their faces told Booth all he needed to know. Dr. Jursik, Jr. explained their findings in detail, and answered all the questions Booth, Christine, and Parker could ask. Eventually, the decision was made to remove her from the ventilator, as Booth knew her wishes for the situation. She surprised them, however, continuing to breathe on her own for six days. Watching her chest rise and fall, Booth knew she was easing the end for them all. She had dealt with life's highs and lows with fortitude, and unconscious or not, she handled its final challenge on her own terms. Booth wished he could gaze into her blue eyes one more time. He had always likened them to the ocean, with ever-altering hues as her moods changed. Temperance Brennan slipped away like the ebb tide, her breaths becoming steadily shallower until a stillness like 'slack water' occurred and her life flickered out.