Sorry for the wait. Thank you everyone for your more than warm response to this story premise. Shout outs to: angelena76 (thank you I do try to keep my fics as realistic as possible, you're right this is going to be more of a serious story), bookwormlady, ZinaR, kareneb, aadams00 (connected Max, totally believable IMO), anne1585 (thanks), MoreBonesPlz (how true), mendenbar (true that), 554Laura (definitely adding more to this story so keep suspending belief!), Crash22244, FaithinBones (true of human nature), LoveShipper, jsboneslover (Max does I believe. She'll be around for the next few chapters, and you're right about Booth too), YellowShadess, BonesfanJD (thanks for following), prfahibi (prompt wasn't from me, honestly the idea never occurred to me but now it has and I'll be expanding on it), wentzer (yup your reasoning makes sense).

He's not breathing on his own. Those were the first thoughts she had as Brennan stepped closer towards Booth's motionless body on the hospital bed. The dam of emotions threatened to burst as she studied him from head to toe. He was intubated, the steady, rhythmic whoosh of the ventilator as it pumped air into Booth's lungs was punctuated by the beeping of the heart monitor, recording each beat of his heart. Her brain registered that his blood pressure was lower than normal but his heart was beating in regular rhythm. She watched the rise and fall of his chest, courtesy of the ventilator, noting the chest tube running from the side of his chest, draining blood and fluid into a sealed container on the floor. He had several visible fractures mostly to the left side of his body, as evidenced by his left foot in a cast and his left arm in a sling. The bandage round his chest indicated rib fractures. Several IV lines ran into his good right arm. Cautiously she picked up his chart, noting the medications that were being pumped into his body, cataloguing his injuries. Her visual assessment had almost been spot on. She glanced at Millie.

"His hemoglobin levels are low."

"He's lost a lot of blood. We've transfused him already. Blood counts are on the rise. He's very lucky. He was pinned inside the wreckage of his car. Firefighters took a long time to free him. He held on for longer than they thought he would."

Brennan remembered Max's words. He had held on for her and Christine.

"Skull fracture… did you know he has a history of brain surgery?"

"Yes. The CT scans show no intracranial bleeding." It was a good thing. Brennan was relieved.

"But he's still in a coma."

"We've medically induced the coma. His injuries are so extensive, he'll be in a lot of pain if he's awake. When we finally stabilized him and he was out of surgery, his lungs and kidneys were already failing. In a coma, his body has more time to heal and his failing organs have a chance to recuperate. His kidney function is already starting to normalize. Once his pneumothorax resolves hopefully in a few days, we can consider bringing him out of the coma, then weaning him off the ventilator."

Brennan nodded. Millie wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know from reading his chart. His prognosis was still bleak, but she had to be thankful for small victories. She didn't believe in luck but Millie had been right. He had been lucky. An inch closer and one of his fractured ribs could've punctured a ventricle. He would have bleed out internally, dying even before he could have been extracted from the wrecked car. Collapsed lung, bruised liver. She mentally calculated the odds of survival from each individual injury. Added together, the odds were stacked against him. Hanging the chart back at the foot of his hospital bed, Brennan made her way to his right side, gently taking his surprisingly warm hand in hers. Physical contact broke her and she choked out an anguished, "Oh Booth!"

She sobbed quietly. Booth was not out of the woods yet. She could still lose him to his injuries. She cried softly, unsure for how long until she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"He looks like he's in good shape. He had been healthy before the accident. I'm sure he'll pull through. Especially now that he knows you're here."

"Thank you. I should go about my duties or people will get curious."

"I've rostered you to work nights, when there's less staff on duty. I've also noticed they post only one guard at his door at night. But you should leave before eight every morning. That's when two new FBI Agents come to replace the night shift agent outside. You're the RN responsible for Mr Booth and seventy-two-year-old Mrs Walters in the next room. She fell down a flight of stairs at home. Hip fracture surgery complicated by an AMI halfway through surgery. She's a kind lady and like Booth, heavily sedated so it shouldn't be hard. You can spend more time with Booth this way."

"Again, I can't thank you enough."

"It's nothing dear. I suggest you wipe off those tears and check in on Mrs Walters. Once that's done, you have the rest of the night with Booth. I'll come get you at seven thirty in the morning. Show you a back way out of here. It'll come in handy if you ever need to make a quick escape."

Once again, Brennan nodded her thanks. She wiped off her tears, glad that the extra bit of latex that Max had used to change the shape of her nose was still in place. Brennan took care to make sure she drew the curtains while she was in Mrs Walters' room, so that she could do the same in Booth's. After half an hour, she re-entered Booth's room. The FBI Agent at the door hardly glanced at her. She drew the curtains after sliding the glass door shut, giving her the privacy she needed. She took time and care to check on Booth's clinical parameters and administered medications that were on his chart, mostly drugs to maintain his medically-induced coma.

Finally two hours since she started her shift in the ICU, she finally had the time to be Brennan, Booth's girlfriend again. She gently smoothed the hair on his head then resting her palm on his cheek, she leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead. Booth did not respond, not that she had been expecting him to. For now she was grateful his heart was still beating.

She thought back to the last time she saw him. She had left him standing at the steps to the church. It hadn't been a good feeling, taking Christine and leaving him. But back then he had been healthy, a stark contrast to how he was now. She sighed, taking his hand in hers, she squeezed gently. Just as she did when she had waited from him to wake up from his coma years ago, she spoke to him.

"Hi Booth. It's me. I'm here." She paused, as if waiting for a reply. He didn't move, the soft whooshing sounds of the ventilator sounded like background music to her monologue.

"Christine's fine. She's with Max. I know he'll take good care of her. I show her your photograph every day, so she won't forget you. She's even tried to say Dada once. She can't verbalize it but she misses you. I'm well and in good health. As is Christine. We're in no danger. I'm sorry Booth. I'm sorry we abandoned you. You need to know I would never intentionally hurt you. I love you very much. Don't die okay Booth? Christine needs her Dad. I need you."

…

The next few nights passed uneventfully. Nobody seemed to pay much attention to the substitute nurse in the ICU. Brennan knew Angela, Sweets and Cam visited him in the day. Nightly she talked to Booth, telling him about her time on the run. She assured him that she was in no danger. Her cover as a nurse in the hospital was a stroke of genius. Pelant would not try to harm her while there was an FBI Agent posted at Booth's door.

The fourth night since she became nurse Rachel, was her day off. It was one of the most difficult things she had to do. Stay away from Booth. She spoke to Max briefly from a payphone, glad to hear Christine babbling happily in the background. Max had informed her, he had found a new lead on Pelant. Brennan would find a way to pass on that information to Angela through Millie. Hopefully it would help in their attempts to clear her name.

The next night, Brennan reported for duty and was about to head for Booth's room to start her shift when she saw a familiar figure at Booth's door, causing her to stop in her tracks. FBI Special Agent Hayes Flynn was standing outside the door to Booth's room. He was deep in conversation with the day shift nurse. Brennan ducked into the supply closet. She knew the other nurses would be wondering where she was if she wasn't attending to the patients under her care, so Brennan chanced it and left the closet after a couple of minutes. Flynn was now talking to the FBI Agent standing guard, his back to her. Brennan worried if her cover had been blown.

She took the longer route round the nursing station, using her staff ID to open the door leading to the back corridor, an escape route Millie had shown her on her first night there. From behind the door, Brennan peeked through the small glass window and waited, hoping the other nurses would not realize she was missing. After an inordinate amount of time, Flynn left and Brennan ventured out again, back into the ICU. She headed for Mrs Walters's room first to avoid suspicion.

As she entered Booth's room some time later, Brennan half-expected the FBI Agent at Booth's door to arrest her, but he let her pass without a word. Inside Booth's room, she focused on his condition, noting that his blood counts had indeed risen and that the drainage from his chest tube had significantly lessened. His blood pressure was also not as low as before. Signs that he was on the mend. The sliding of Booth's room door made her jump It was Millie.

"I saw Agent Flynn here." Brennan said, "He's the FBI Agent in-charge of finding me."

"Imagine how mad he'll be at himself when one day he finds out you were right here all along." Millie chuckled.

"He doesn't suspect anything?"

"I don't think so. He was here to check if Mr Booth had any new visitors. Which he hasn't." Millie winked. "Agent Flynn isn't all bad. He seems genuinely concerned for Booth."

"They are friends. But circumstances had pit them against each other."

"Yes this serial killer you told me about."

Brennan nodded.

"I have good news for you. As you've probably seen for yourself, he is improving. His pneumothorax is resolving. We're bringing him out of his coma tomorrow morning. When you come in for your shift tomorrow night, he should be fairly lucid."

"That is good news."

"He'll be happy to see you." Millie nodded at towards Booth.

"I hope so."