Yeah, heres the next chapter! For some reason it said this was in spanish, so if that confused anyone, sorry! I don't speak that good of Spanish, so not many of those in the future!

Anyways, I don't own Bones. And also, whenever people are talking to Christine and referring to her as "Booth", I did mean for it that way xD I promise. Anyways, I love ya'll and have fun!

"Motherfucker, Booth! Can't you keep your pants on for ten seconds?" I heard the tone of one of my "brothers" and tossed him the head covering and then the over lay of the uniform. The bomb suit is heavy in the desert, but it's always nice knowing you have a little bit of protection.

"Yeah, yeah, Bunker. Screw you. Who was too cowardly to go in there first, by the way?"

"Hey, you're the feminist! I can do anything a man can do, treat me like you would a brother, blah, blah blah. Damned women," he joked. PO3 Travers heard the commotion and perched on the edge.

"Stop stalling, you two. The longer we're out here, the bigger targets we are," she warns us, and then crawls back into the jeep. I laugh at Bunker and swing into the vehicle. Wolfman, AKA Johnson perches on the turret, looking down at us.

"When the hell you two gonna hook up, huh?" he joked, winking at us. Bunker was a good four years older then me, originally a Navy Corpsman (Devil Doc, he calls himself) before deciding to switch over. Since we were shipmates in training, we got a lot of crap.

I love him like I love a brother.

I love all these guys like I would love a sibling. I'd die for them.

Even Travers.

McGill sits more at attention then the rest of us. Afraid.

You can't give in to fear, though. That's what I want to tell him. We're all afraid, but we have to learn to live with it.

I looked at my watch and then pointed at the time for Wolfman.

"Yo, Wolfman. You know what next week is?"

"I'm going home!" he howls, grinning at me from above and slapping my hand. "I'll send ya'll some freaking little Debbie's or something,"

"Cheetos," I reply. "Send lots of Cheetos,"

He laughs.

"Fuck yeah,"

In the care packages that Angela and Jack sent me, they always managed to send a couple of bags of cheetos. It had become a sort of joke among us. The guys took the dust and put it like war paint on their faces, everyone acting as though the inside of the tents were circuses.

None of the guys gave me shit. Or, more so, they didn't do more so then what I was okay with. The first day, when assigned during deployment, I'd laid out the rules. Wolfman had gone for a flirtation and I'd knocked him on his ass.

"Where the hell'd you learn that?" he'd asked, fear in his eyes.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I'd asked, chuckling.

Everyone treated me like a brother, then. Just what I wanted.

War is not a pleasant thing. It is not jokes, it is not fun. But when you joke, when you try to turn everything you know into a joke, except for the very basics of your job, maybe you can live. Maybe you can survive.

I have killed two men.

One child.

And mom and dad will never know.

This is how the brotherhood works. When I killed the child, it had been out of necessity. A bomb had been strapped to his chest, the ignition in his hand. I couldn't blame him. And it took all that was in me to pull the trigger.

Travers had come to me first, late at night when I buried my head and cried. She'd laid her hand on my arm and sighed.

"You did the right thing, Booth."

"How do you know?" I'd cried.

"Think of how many lives you saved."

"That doesn't make it right!"

"That's war," she'd stated, patting her on the back. Travers, the oldest in their group, had seen the beginning of the war, the bloodiest part. And we trusted her.

I still couldn't help but hate myself after that. It was a child…Damn it. I slammed the butt of my M16 down in the barracks, trying to calm down.

Back to the present, I'm sitting on a rickety jeep, bouncing along the roads of hell. We're joking. All of us, joking. Trying to forget the miniscule things. Jading Wolfman because he'd be going home soon.

"What's your first meal gonna be back home, big boy?"

"Mac and cheese, Booth! Mac and freaking cheese!"

Laughing, I leaned back and relaxed for a moment. Relaxing is fatal, but I had nothing to do right now. Listen for shots, get out if some are fired. Get back to base safely.

While we were Navy, we were assigned to work with Army EOD's and Air force EOD's, and I thanked god for this. I soon learned that I hated ships and I hated the ocean. I was able to deal with it, but the fact that I didn't have to be on a ship almost twenty four seven was relief.

I reminded myself that I was supposed to call mom in a couple of days, and hoped that the lines wouldn't be too crowded. Our cell phone reception sucked, so while it was nice of the American companies to send us phones and phone cards, it didn't do much good. Internet was sketch, too.

Yawning, I adjusted my M16 on my lap and looked out the window. I usually try not to do this. So much destruction, so much trouble.

My relaxation was broken, however, when I saw Wolfmans foot move. The driver was yelling into the radio, and the "ping, ping ping" sound on our vehicle was not a pleasant one. I tensed, ready to defend and protect, just as I'd been trained to do.

However, with all of this, our driver didn't see the carcass on the side of the road.

And as our Instructor had told us when training us on IED's, carcasses are a prime spot to hide them. You miss them…

You miss them, and you go up in flames, seamen.

Boom

Boom…

Temperance Brennan's POV.

"…the paramortum fracture was sustained on the spinal cord," I started into my recorder, hoping to keep my mind off of whatever might be happening. I was waiting for a call from Christine later tonight, so that would ease my mind some, perhaps. However, the constant worry still ebbed on me. I know very well she's trained, and she made it through the training, so she has to be good. She's smart…

I drift off significantly, and trying to figure out this mans death seems impossible. He died in the WWI. Catalog injuries, try to find family.

"Sweetie?" Angela called, peaking into the room. "Can you come here, please?"

"I'm trying to work, Angela. Another time, maybe?"

"No, no Sweetie. You have to come. Right now," she said urgently, glancing back towards her room, and gesturing widely for me. For a moment, I felt a twinge of annoyance.

"Look, Angela, this is very important work. I know you're bored, but please, just leave me-"

"Temperance Joy Brennan! Please, just listen to me. Come with me. Please," the begging in her voice was obvious, and sensing the obvious distress, I fallowed her into her room where the news was running.

"Angela, this is highly inappropriate. We're at work. We should be-"

"No, Sweetie…Just listen."

The screen showed an over flash of a scene, and for a moment it bothered me that I was unsure of what she was talking about.

The bottom of the screen, however, stated it all.

'Bombing kills 3, injures 2 others'

"This has come after months of near standstill in the war. The Pentagon issued a report today, saying-"

I walked out.

No, I didn't know if that had anything to do with Christine. In fact, it probably had nothing to do with Christine. I didn't know exactly where she was stationed. On top of that, she hadn't even heard what branch it was from. It could be anyone!

I needed to work…It wouldn't do me any good dwelling on what had happened. I'd hear from Christine tonight…She'd be cheerful, maybe a bit down that some of her brothers in arms were dead, but Booth would comfort her…She may not even know them!

I took comfort in this, though very little.

It surprised me when Booth came in, eyes looking longingly for me. When he finally found me, he grabbed me and pulled me to the side carefully. He took a long time to speak, and I tried to remain hopeful.

"Do we have a case?"

"No Bones…It's…"

"Well, in that case, I need to get back to work, Booth. You know, they pay me for this stuff."

"Bones, no, just listen. It's Christine. She's in the hospital, stateside. She's been hurt."

My smile faltered, and my knee's buckled. Booth managed to catch me, and lead me to my couch, where I wept openly for the first time in a long time.

When Angela came in and he told her, she made her way to me and wrapped her arms around me. I found comfort in her touch, and leaned against her.

"She's still alive, right Booth?" she asked, and I could hear the strain in his voice.

"She's hurt real bad, Bones…But they think she'll be alright," he said to me, running his hands through my hair.

I looked into his eyes, and saw something I hadn't seen in a long while-

Booth was scared.

Michaels POV.

"We have to understand that pack instincts aren't that different from human instincts. After all, when someone we love is hurt, we feel compassion, remorse, love. We want revenge. It's not that different within a wolf pack, especially when young are involved." I tried to explain to a visitor, trying to explain something in which the other man clearly didn't get. The old man grumbled something and walked off to another area, and I frowned visibly.

Why'd I ever think I could make it here? It'd been months, they'd offered me a job, and I felt like I was drowning. I wanted to go back home. However, if I did, I felt as though I wouldn't be proving what I need to prove. If Christine can join the Navy and go to war, why the hell can't I stay stateside and keep totally sane?

I hadn't gotten into the Int. wolf center. Instead, I was working at some halfshit zoo that I'm pretty sure most of the world didn't know about. I felt like shit.

My boss saves me from lingering in these thoughts for too long. He says that there's some emergency call on the phone from my family, and tells me to get it right away. I make my way to it quickly and answer.

"Yeah? Michael Hodgins here." He stated into the phone, leaning against the wall. He was kind of hoping it was Christine, giving him a call and making an excuse for it. Of course, it wasn't.

"Michael. It's your mom. You need to come home,"

"Why?" I asked, pushing off the wall and covering my other ear.

"Christines home, honey."

I felt a surge of excitement and grinned, already thinking of which airline was the cheapest, when I could get the next ride, how I could break it softly to my boss, 'Sorry, mofo, I ain't never coming back again!'

"Yeah? She get sent home early or something?"

"No…Baby, Christine got hurt," and this stops my train of thought.

Christine was hurt? Christine, my Christine, my best friend, hurt? I must of misheard.

"No, wait. Did the line just crackle or something? What do you mean, hurt?" I stuttered.

"I mean she's in the hospital honey. She's in surgery again right now. Look, I know how close you two were…I don't know whats going to happen. But she needs her friends, Michael."

"Right…" I stated, blanching slightly and flinching. "Look, I'll call you when I get my flight number, mom. I'm gonna try and fly in tonight."

I walked out without giving two shits about my boss.