A/N: Another really sad one. *le sigh* Interestingly enough there should be a break from the angst tomorrow.

Booth's POV

I didn't tell Hannah about the panic over Bones this morning. I felt guilty – about not telling Hannah the whole truth about last night, about not staying with Bones when she was hurting, and now about my failed attempts to reconnect with Bones. When Hannah asked, "How was your breakfast with Dr. Brennan?" I answered instead, "She wasn't there. She went to see Zack." And then it turned out Hannah didn't know who Zack was, so I spent most of lunch telling her the story.

"It doesn't seem like you liked him very much," Hannah observed.

I made a face. "I didn't." Then serious. "But Bones did."

We fell silent.

Hannah tried to cheer me up with pie – she could tell something was off – and I played along. For a moment I remembered Sweets' comment about my attempts to get Bones to eat pie as a form of seduction. But it didn't feel like a seduction when Hannah gave in so easily.

The diner was only a few blocks from the Jeffersonian, and after I kissed Hannah goodbye my feet led me past my car, towards the lab, towards Bones.

I needed to make things right. She was hurting and angry at me, probably for good reason given how I abandoned her last night. And then there was our conversation this morning – And since when do I need to notify you of my whereabouts? You haven't even come by the lab in over a week.

And then we come back to the guilt. Because I had been by the lab – I'd been there for hours, lurking in Angela's office while she sketched, filling out paperwork on the couches that looked over the forensic platform, wandering the halls of the museum before it closed.

When Angela asked, "Do you have Brennan tonight? Because I think she's going to try another all-nighter and all I want to do is put my feet up," I said, "Sure, yeah, I'll be around." Because I was around – dozing on the couches, listening to music in my car in the parking garage, and lying to Hannah, saying that I was going to be up late doing paperwork when she called.

When Cam said, "I know you babysat Dr. Brennan last night, so why don't I take a turn," I said, "Nah, I got it." But why didn't I let Cam take over when I wasn't even doing my job? When I couldn't bring myself to take her a cup of coffee, let alone a sandwich? When I was hiding in my car so I wouldn't have to watch her?

And now Bones had reached her own logical conclusion: that I had left her, probably that I didn't care. But I couldn't tell Bones I really was there, because she'd ask why she'd never seen me. And why couldn't I have been there for her? Why did it suddenly feel wrong to bring her Thai takeout at midnight? Why did I have to send Sweets instead of asking what was wrong myself? Who was I kidding, I had left her – but it was because I did care, when I shouldn't. Not when I was in love with Hannah, when Bones was in love with Sully.

My footsteps were heavy and the winter wind was bitter but I plodded on. It would do me good to see Bones, anyway, after the scare this morning. After my first taste of what it would be like when Bones left me – or D.C., anyway. My chest tightened again. Maybe I had over-reacted a little to a mess in her apartment. But the thought of Bones gone made me a little crazy.

The heat inside the door hit me like a wall. My clothes were cold from the wind and I took my coat off to let the heat penetrate to my skin. The forensic platform wasn't lit so the room was dim with what little winter sunshine filtered through the windows. I looked over to the glass walls of Bones's office and, sure enough, saw the light was on.

But when I strode around the corner I heard her – a gasp? No – a sob.

I stepped lightly so I could see through the glass.

She was trembling, wracked with sobs. One hand covered her face and the other grabbed her right side, as if she was in pain.

I took a step back, out of view.

She needs you, Seeley.

My throat was tight and my palms itched with sweat.

No, she needs Sully, I thought nastily.

I rubbed my hand over my face. Thinking like that wouldn't help anything.

I took a deep breath and strode up to her open door and knocked twice on the glass.

"Hey, Bones," I said softly.

She started and the sobs stopped immediately.

"Booth – I –" She scrambled to sweep several tissues into the trash.

"Hey," I stilled her hand, "Don't worry about it."

She pulled her hand from my grasp and opened a desk drawer, taking out a pocket mirror. She started fixing her eye makeup.

I flopped onto her couch with a sigh. "Thinking about Sully?" I asked.

For a moment she gave me this odd look – the look when I said something she thought was completely irrelevant. Then the mask was back.

"I'm just processing the stress after our last case, Booth. Given that psychological tears carry adrenocorticotropic hormone out of the body I expected crying to be, colloquially speaking, a cathartic experience." She put back the mirror and slammed the drawer shut.

"Whoa – wuh-hoa," I said, throwing up a hand. "Last night you were crying because you wished you'd gone with Sully. No changies, no take-backs."

She shrugged. "It was a moment of irrationality, Booth. I was tired."

The walls were back. It was amazing – I wouldn't have even guessed she was recently crying if her eyes weren't red. I leaned in, elbows on knees.

"Love is irrational, Bones," I hissed.

Tears started welling in her eyes again. "Yes. It is irrational, Booth," she snapped. "Because it doesn't exist."

"Oh, here we go again," I said, throwing up my hands. "You gonna start telling me about baby hormones and the sympathetic digestive system? 'Cause I've heard it before, Bones, and you can't tell me that what you were feeling last night was just stress and brain chemicals. Brain and heart, Bones," I said, tapping her desk for emphasis. "Brain and heart. Last night was your heart."

My voice broke a little on the last word. It caught me by surprise and I had to swallow quickly to disguise the slip. Her lip was trembling and her eyes were even bluer and sparkly with the tears and I wanted to kiss her.

My heart sank at the sudden betrayal of my thoughts.

It had been months since I had thought of kissing Bones.

I sank back into the couch cushions and let my head fall into my hands.

I never thought she'd be farther away from me than in that moment outside the Hoover, pushing me away and insisting she could never change. I took her word for it – I accepted that she could never change. She could never be a lover, but she'd always be my best friend. That little bit of distance, for her.

But she did change. She was a lover. But not for me. And she was farther away than I ever thought she could be.

Never did I consider this a possibility.

"Booth?" she whispered. "Booth, are you mad at me?"

"No," I said, pulling my face from my hands. "No, Bones, just don't…" Don't leave me. "Don't cheat yourself out of your thirty or forty years. Because it's worth it."

I dared lock eyes with her for a moment. If anything she looked worse than before.

"You're a good friend, Booth," she whispered.

Friend. Always a friend.

I had to leave. "Take care of yourself Bones, okay?" I said, standing up.

She just looked at me with those forlorn baby blues. I rubbed my hand over the back of my neck and walked out.