AN: I don't usually update this often, but had some time on my hands over the long weekend. It may be more of a wait until the next one, I just didn't want to leave you all hanging over a cliff for too long, so to speak.
Chapter 4: Treatment
"Is there anyone down there? Can you hear me? I'm coming down."
Booth stirred, lifting his face away from the airbag. He blinked and turned his head. Images started to come into focus. Outside of the shattered driver's side window, he saw trees. He looked to his right and saw...nothing. No glass in the passenger side window, no passenger in the seat.
"Bones!"
He moved to unhook his seatbelt but was constrained by the airbag.
"Sir, are you alright? Don't move, we'll get you out." The door was yanked open by a fresh-faced police officer wearing an expression of grave concern.
Booth put his left arm on the man's shoulder and allowed himself to be dragged out of the SUV. He felt blood trickle down his face and had a burning sensation in his arm, but he ignored all of that.
"My partner. We have to find my partner. I think she fell out of the window when we went over the side."
"Sir, you are hurt and probably in shock. You should sit down until the parametics get here. We called them as soon as we saw the skid marks. We'll look for your partner."
Ignoring the suggestion, Booth moved to search around the other side of the SUV. He staggered slightly due to his injuries and the throbbing pain in his head. The officer who had helped him and an older policeman who just arrived at the crash site followed close behind as he started to push his way through the trees.
"Bones! Where are you Bones?"
Suddenly he stopped short. The two men in his wake almost crashed into him. "Oh God."
Booth rushed to where Brennan lay. She was unconscious, positioned awkwardly half on top of a low shrub. Booth pressed his fingers against the side of her neck as he'd seen others do. He closed his eyes and prayed to feel a pulse.
"She's alive," he breathed, collapsing next to her on the ground. He glared up at the officers. "Get the parametics here now!"
Twenty minutes later, Brennan, still unconscious, was strapped onto a backboard and loaded into an ambulance for the short trip to the medivac helicopter that was waiting at a nearby airport. Trauma cases from this area were routinely flown to larger hospitals nearby. When the EMTs learned that the patients were FBI agents - Booth hadn't corrected this assumption as it pertained to Brennan - they'd chosen to have the helicopter fly to Washington Hospital Center in DC.
In the ambulance, one EMT attended to Brennan while the other tried to assess Booth's injuries. The agent made this process difficult with his refusal to leave his partner's side and his constant questions.
"How is she?"
"Do you know the extent of her injuries?"
"We really don't know anything definitive yet, Agent Booth, although I can tell you that her vital signs are strong except for some fluctuation in her blood pressure. She also appears to have a broken arm. Do you know if there is someone, a spouse or parent, who can make medical decisions on her behalf should she remain unconscious?"
"I can. I have her medical power of attorney. Not with me though. I don't carry it with me. Do I need to have it?" He knew he was babbling, but his head was pounding and he felt nauseous, both from the accident and from fear for Bones.
"Agent Booth, we need to treat you now. If you will be called upon to make decisions for Dr. Brennan, you need to be able to focus. You really can't do anything to help her right now. She's stable and nothing is likely to change until we get to the hospital and do further assessments. Let us clean your lacerations and give you something for the pain."
Booth agreed, as long as he could still watch Brennan while they fussed over him. He winced as they pulled shards of glass from his arm but had to admit to feeling better once the process was over.
They soon reached the airport and while the crew readied the helicopter and got Brennan settled inside, Booth called the Jeffersonian on his cell phone.
"Angela, I don't have much time, so please just listen. Brennan and I have been in an accident. We are being airlifted to Washington Hospital Center. I need you to meet us there with a copy of her medical power of attorney. It's in the top drawer of her file cabinet where she keeps her personal records. Angela, are you there?"
"Booth, are you two alright? Why are you being airlifted?"
"I am fine, just banged up. Brennan is unconscious right now, but the EMTs said that her vital signs are good. The only thing they know for certain is that she has a broken arm."
Booth heard a soft hiccup at the other end of the phone and knew that Angela was crying. With effort she pulled herself together and croaked, "Okay, Booth, I'll get the file and will leave immediately. I have to request something though. Please don't ask me to explain. Don't let the doctors do anything more than evaluate her until I get there, Booth. Promise me. I need to speak to the doctors before they start treatment."
Someone in the helicopter was beckoning Booth, so with a hasty "Sure, Angela, I have to go now" he disconnected the call.
Everything happened very quickly once the helicopter landed at the hospital. Brennan was immediately wheeled off to the emergency room for evaluation. Booth agreed to allow a doctor to briefly examine his injuries but, after receiving a shot of potent antibiotics, insisted that he be shown to a place near where Brennan was being treated so that he would be given frequent updates about his partner's condition. Twenty minutes later, a different emergency room doctor appeared in the doorway.
"Agent Booth?"
"Yes?" Booth jumped from his seat to face the tall African American woman in green scrubs.
"I'm Dr. Johnson. I am treating your partner. I understand that you have medical power of attorney."
"Yes. Someone is bringing a copy over. She should be here any minute."
The doctor waved away his concern. "We don't need any consent right now. She is stable. I believe she was quite lucky to have been thrown onto a bush when she was ejected from the car. It broke her fall. We are a bit concerned about her fluctuations in blood pressure which could be caused by internal bleeding. We are going to continue to watch her, but if her blood pressure remains erratic, we may have to operate. In the meantime, we will be setting her broken arm."
"Is she going to be okay, Doctor?"
"Nothing is certain of course, Agent Booth, but there is no reason why Dr. Brennan should not make a fast and full recovery. She is young and appears to be in excellent physical condition."
Booth felt his eyes well up in relief. "Great. That's great news, Doctor. Can I see her?"
The doctor gazed at Booth with new understanding in her eyes. "Of course, but just for a minute. We'll be taking her to radiology for x-rays."
As Booth started to follow the doctor, he heard the sound of heavy running behind him.
"Wait! Wait! Booth stop!"
Both Booth and the doctor turned to see Angela lumbering towards them as quickly as she could, a file in her hand. Hodgins kept pace behind her, anxiety written across his face.
Angela stopped in front of them, panting loudly. "Have to ... tell ...you. Important..."
Booth motioned to Angela and explained to the doctor, "Dr. Johnson, this is Angela Montenegro, Dr. Brennan's best friend. This is her husband, Jack Hodgins. Ang, it's okay. Brennan is going to be alright, although she is still unconscious. They may need to operate for internal bleeding. But all in all, her injuries aren't as bad as I feared at first. Thanks for bringing the Power of Attorney. You really should sit and rest now."
Angela was frantically shaking her head, still trying to catch her breath. She reached out and took hold of the doctor's sleeve.
"Please. There's something you should know about Brennan before you begin treatment," she huffed.
All eyes turned to Angela in anticipation of what she might say.
Angela closed her eyes, praying for strength and also praying that her best friend wouldn't kill her for what she was about to do.
"She's pregnant."
Angela felt Booth turn to stone beside her. The man had no outward reaction whatsoever, which was a reaction in and of itself. He just stood rigid, stunned, with a blank look on his face.
The doctor, on the other hand, immediately sprang into action. She pulled a notepad from her pocket and began to fire off questions.
"How far along?"
"Nine weeks."
"Do you know the name of her OB?"
"I believe its Jenna Waterston in Dupont Circle."
"Any complications to date?"
"I don't think so."
"Has the father been contacted?"
"Um..." Angela's eyes shot to Booth and then back to the doctor. "Is that necessary?"
"Probably not at this juncture. Based on everything we've seen so far, I don't think the pregnancy has been compromised. Very important that we know this in case we need to operate though. And we may also have to modify the medicines that we administer. Thank you for bringing this to our attention. Blood tests would likely have caught it but best to know as early as possible. I should get back to my patient now."
She turned to the unmoving FBI Agent. "Agent Booth? Do you still want to follow me back? Agent Booth?"
Slowly, Booth felt the shock fade away, replaced by a sudden understanding.
Pregnant.
Nine weeks.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then focused his gaze on Angela. The artist was watching him intently, clearly trying to read his expression.
Booth spoke slowly, his voice shaking with emotion.
"It wasn't a dream, was it Angela?"