A/N: I think this has to be the world's longest wait for an update. My apologies, I had exams back throughout December and I lost my muse. If you're still here, reading and caring about this story, then you mean more to me than you will ever know. If you've abandoned it, then I totally understand. Thanks go to Angel6 for her help with the chapter. Enjoy guys, as my muse gave you double what I normally churn out.

Eventually her tears subsided and she slipped back into her world of dreams. Booth gently slid her head back onto her pillow and tucked the covers around her, before quietly creeping from the room.

He didn't even make it to his own room before he burst into tears. The guilt flooding him was awful. The guilt he felt for taking fifty people's lives was bad enough. But the guilt for hurting someone he cared about was a thousand times worse. He'd ruined his strong Bones, he'd ruined her spirit by letting her get injured.

He made it into his bed as his tears drowned the pillow, and the blankets engulfed him in warmth. But it didn't help, all he felt was the cold. He fell into a fitful sleep and was soon caught up in a dream that would scar his soul.

The same haunted faces stared out at Booth. Men, women and children. Souls he had taken by his own hand. Fifty kills. Fifty faces to haunt his conscience. And a new one to add to his toll. He began to push his way through the crowd, as hands fleetingly touched him.

"Save us," the mass called.

"I can't," Booth whimpers, "I want to, but I can't."

"But it's your fault we're here," they whisper and Booth hands clench. He knows as much, without those small innocent voices whispering in his ear that he was to blame.

He saw her and she turns to face him, her sad blue eyes making him fight back a sob. He's killed her too. He took in her lank hair and gaunt face. His beautiful Bones was no more. He has to ask, "Bones, you didn't die from the accident, did you?"

"No, but I died shortly afterwards. I died a broken woman because I couldn't enjoy my freedom. I didn't have any freedom because you had to stand out on the middle of that road and I had to care enough to save you…" she trailed off, her blue eyes holding none of the sparkle he was used to.

He reached a tentative hand out to her and stroked her pale cheek. "I'm sorry Bones."

"That's not going to bring me back though is it?" she said sadly, placing her hand on his. He shook with silent tears as his head fell onto her shoulder. Her hand came to rest on his hair as she whispered slowly into his ear, "But some things can't be changed. I not only died a broken woman, but I died of a broken heart."

Booth jumped back like he'd been hit by lightning. "But you don't believe in broken hearts."

"But you do," she said honestly. "I couldn't handle being restricted but the fact you never noticed me killed me inside. You broke my heart because you never acted on your feelings. I couldn't escape how I felt about you Booth, and I died because I couldn't have you."

"No Bones, this isn't you. You never had feelings for me," he said, desperately shaking his head, not wanting what she said to be true.

"No?" she sneered. "If you had been a little braver, then we could have found out, couldn't we? But instead I was forced to live with caring about you, but never allowed to go further than friends. I lived with my regrets because I still had my work and my independence. But you ruined all that too. By making me care so much about you! So in the end, I couldn't have you or anything else."

"No Bones, please," Booth whimpered, feeling his heart shattering within his chest, "I'll do anything to make it right."

And Booth jumped suddenly, awake once again as the sweat plastered his hair to his forehead and the tears rolled freely down his face. Booth firmly resolved that he would do anything to make it right.

Booth rose with the sun, deciding that perhaps a shower was in order to clear his rather fuzzy head. He found a towel from the closet and quietly closed the door shut again. Brennan heard the quiet click of the linen closet door shutting. Maybe she could make it to the toilet. It was just across the hall after all.

She gently propped herself up onto her elbows and stared around her room. She could see the wheelchair right next to her bed. But how was one supposed to get across there with unmovable legs and an excruciatingly painful hip?

Brennan assessed the situation. In her mind, dragging herself to the edge of the bed and gently plopping into the seat was her best plan of action. She could call on Booth for help, but she decided she wanted to try things for herself. No need to bother him constantly if she could try it for herself.

She slid her elbow over slightly, before dragging her other elbow across to meet it, moving her upper body and budging her bottom half a fraction. This went on for several minutes as Booth remained oblivious in the shower.

He scrubbed fiercely at his hair, fearing his own thoughts and feelings. What if that dream was right? He blamed himself for Bones' injuries, but it would break him if she blamed him too. Suddenly ferocious at himself, Booth closed his eyes and landed a heavy blow on one of the tiles on the wall. The crack was sharp and loud, preventing Booth from hearing the loud thump that came from Brennan's bedroom.

Booth opened his eyes and gazed at the wall, as the water rained down on his weary head. He'd shattered the tile, cracked in several places. Then he saw red on the wall. He looked down at his hand, eyes narrowed in confusion. Crimson flowed easily between his fingers and from his knuckles, mingling with the shower water, tainting it pink. Booth was mesmerised. Maybe if he hurt himself a little, it would make up for all the pain he had caused. He shook his head to clear these thoughts. That was foolish and wouldn't help anyone.

He got out the shower and wrapped a towel round his waist. He took a closer look at his hand. It was pretty bad, as he had a gash on each knuckle. He stepped out into the wall and pulled a small towel from the closet. He wrapped it around his hand before walking down the hall.

It was about time to wake Bones up.

The loud thump that Booth had missed had been Brennan, attempting unsuccessfully to pull the wheelchair over a bit, and falling straight out the bed. Thankfully for her, she landed on her stomach, so no damage was done to the newly repaired hip, but her damaged ribs made her cry out in pain.

There was no way she was going to attempt to move now. She did not want to give herself any more time confined to being an invalid than was necessary. She heard her door click open and she shut her eyes in embarrassment and pain.

Booth's eyes scanned the room. "Bones?" he queried, searching for her.

Then he saw her lying on the floor and gave a startled, "Bones!" before rushing to her side. "Are you hurt?" he asked hurriedly, bending down to her side. "Your hip?"

"No Booth," she answered, wincing, "Just my ribs."

"Let's get you up then," he said softly, gently and slowly rolling her over onto her back, causing her to start with the pain. From there, he placed his hands under her arms and slowly hoisted her to her feet, although not allowing her to put any pressure on her legs. He couldn't even remotely attempt that, because her hip would hurt like hell and her legs would simply buckle underneath her.

He quickly slid her into her wheelchair and let her settle a moment. He came round the front and sat on the bed, opposite her. Then he began to scold her. "Bones what were you thinking? You could have seriously hurt yourself there! Why didn't you shout on me?" he said, annoyance stealing over him, scared for her safety.

She gave him a look of defiance before dropping her eyes and saying softly, "I still have my pride Booth."

Booth's dream rolled over him as he breathed out a pained sigh. She doesn't even have her work anymore. Leave her with her pride or do you want that too? But then again, having people do the basics in life for you pretty much ruined your pride too. He'd stolen everything from her.

Booth had dropped his head into his hands, unable to look at her. Brennan's eyes narrowed, trying to work him out. He looked pained to her. "Are you alright Booth?" she said, realising that something she said must have triggered this reaction.

Before he could answer though, her eyes caught sight of the bloodied towel which was freeing itself from his hand. "Booth, what happened?" she exclaimed, her blue eyes worried as she carefully unwrapped the towel from his hand.

"Had a bit of an accident in the shower," he mumbled, trying to cover the lie in his eyes.

"This was no accident Booth. You've burst all your knuckles. You're going to need stitches for them. What were you doing, punching walls?" she asked, incredulous, tenderly turning his hand round and round to inspect it.

Booth shied away from her gaze. Why must that woman know everything? Brennan caught on. "That is what happened isn't it? You hit something. Why?" she asked slowly, the caring feeling she had for her partner flooding her and suddenly everything else wrong with her life just faded away.

"I was feeling angry," he admitted, still not able to look at her.

"About what?" she asked, suddenly knowing when to push and when to relent with this.

"About…about your situation Bones," he said, trying to put it delicately, saving her the unnecessary reminder of her condition.

She touched a finger to his chin and made him look at her. "Booth, you have nothing to feel bad about."

"No?" he said, hopeful. Maybe she didn't blame him after all. If there was one thing he could hope for, this would be it, directly after the promise of her full recovery.

"No," she said, a tone of finality in her voice as relief flooded her partner. "That's going to need stitches," indicating his hand.

"It's fine," he said, shirking off her unnecessary worry. He was too busy rejoicing in that she hadn't lost complete faith in him. Her gaze moved from his face and lingered on his muscled torso. She rubbed her neck as a grimace crossed her face.

"Sore neck?" he quizzed, noticing where her gaze was held.

"Yeah," she replied as he jumped up from his seat. She tracked his every move as he came round to stand behind her.

He rubbed comforting circles in her neck before asking, "Any reason why you were staring at my chest Bones?"

Brennan took a moment to gather her courage and give the only possible explanation, "I'm only a woman Booth."

Booth made no reply to this, but simply slid his hands from her neck down to her shoulder blades, gently brushing them, almost in a loving manner. She shivered at the sensuality of his contact.

She hated to break the moment but the reason she had attempted to leave the bed was becoming overpowering. "Booth, can we go to the bathroom? Like now?" she asked, a sense of urgency in her voice.

"Yeah Bones sure," he said as he began to wheel her to the door.

"And maybe we can help your hand too," she said thoughtfully as they crossed the hall to the bathroom.