The air burned with each and every breath, short, shallow, and fast. It felt like a thousands of pins sliding through the tender flesh of her lungs. Unfamiliar sounds surrounded her, loud, irritating sounds that battered her mind relentlessly. She wanted to make them stop, she wanted silence and peace but couldn't find the strength to request it, and was far too out of it to even know what was bothering her. The room was cloudy and unclear, especially around the edges, and the light in the room was far too bright to discern night from day, or even where she was.

She felt confused and lost, traveling her own mind for what felt like miles only to end up in the same place with the same conclusions, battling the same demons, fighting the same battles. Tired and worn, she could feel her body again, heavy with exhaustion, heavy with fluid, heavy with the weight of the drugs she had been given and the blankets that covered her. She was cold and warm at the same time, her body fighting for the correct temperature as her fever ravaged her body. She could feel the weight of her lungs, the heavy feeling in her chest that made her feel like she was drowning as she lay there, while the truth was the medication was finally working.

Very slowly she became aware of some things that were familiar, yet her mind was so focused on remembering who she was, that it forgot to wonder how she had gotten there. She heard a voice, felt a hand on hers, and tried to focus on it, tried to focus on their words, their touch, the sound of the voice and not the sound of the machines. She tried to focus on the break in the fog and not the fog itself as she slowly opened her eyes. Unfocused and blurry she could see a face, hear a voice. She followed the voice and focused on the person's lips, trying to rid her mind of the fog so that she could focus on the words. Her name, her real name, whispered again and again as her eyes blinked heavily.

Temperance.

Again, and again it was whispered, her eyes heavily blinking as she tried to breath deeper, but found it far too painful. Her name again was whispered from the man above her, and she tried to pull the clouds from her vision again, blinking at the man above her whispering her name. She closed her eyes tightly, and with the light through her eyelids she saw flashes of light, white, snow. She saw blood, felt the pain on her chest and heard the sound of snow crunching under feet in her mind. She could hear the pounding of feet, or perhaps her heart, but the same sound smacking loudly on pavement, or against her chest. It was unclear until she heard the voice again, recognizing it as her father's she could feel panic rising in her chest.

Where was Booth?

It was the first clear thought in her mind, that she was lying in this bed broken and drugged, and Booth was not the one above her, he was not the one calling to her. The splash of blood jumped into her mind, and she heard a gunshot in her mind, or perhaps it was the sound of something else, a pen dropping? A car backfiring? No, a gunshot. It was a gunshot and blood.

Snow.

Blood and snow.

Booth was walking in the snow, and was shot, was attacked? He was thrown to the ground. No gun, no shot.

Beaten. Booth was beaten. If he wasn't, he'd be here.

She could feel and hear her heart in her chest, pounding louder and louder, or maybe that was the sound of pounding feet?

Her eyes opened wide, a gasp as she found herself automatically trying to sit up. "No!" She shouted, her eyes focused on the fear in her father's eyes. "No!"

"Tempe." He said, shocked that she went from groggy to grabbing him with her fists, a blind and vengeful fear in her eyes. "Tempe, calm down."

"Where is he?" She said, her lungs burning with each breath, her voice hardly above a screaming whisper as she suddenly began to cough violently. "Tell!" she exclaimed, her voice cracking to nothing but air. "Tell me!" She continued to cough, leaning over the bed, Max held her as he tried to hold her to the bed, wires and tubes pulling from her as she tried desperately to climb from the bed, or fall from the bed, something, anything. Her coughing continued angrily as monitors began to scream, and she continued to struggle against the restraints of the machines connected to her. She felt an intense pain in her injured foot, and tears came to her eyes as she struggled despite the pain, trying to climb from the bed.

"Tempe, you have to lie down!" Max exclaimed as the nurse entered the room and frantically assisted lying her down, but she continued to struggle.

"What is she saying?" The nurse asked, seeing the desperate look in the woman's eyes as her mouth opened and air was expelled as Brennan tried desperately to tell them what was wrong. Her eyes were wild with fear, and Max knew.

"Baby, Booth is okay." He said, instantly feeling the tension in her body start to relax. "Temperance. Booth is on his way." He said, watching her stop and stare at him with blind eyes. "He's on his way." Max said as the nurse put a mask on her face, ordering her to breathe into it, she kept her eyes on Max, her hands clamped onto his arm as he nodded his head and whispered to her. "He's on his way."

After a moment or two, her exhaustion got the better of her, and she relaxed her hand, lying her back onto the inclined bed, she kept her eyes on her father's as she tried desperately to focus on him, finding herself fading in and out. The nurse was whispering to her as she got her to breathe again, calming her down as she lay back and focused on her father, fighting desperately to stay awake, while her mind begged her to shut itself off and go back to sleep.

She didn't know if it was sleep or not, but her eyes were closed. She didn't know how long they had been closed, but she heard his voice before she saw him. She felt his hand in hers before she saw him. She could feel his closeness before she saw him.

"Bones?"

Her eyes opened and she could barely see him through the cloud of sleep. Her lips moved as she tried to speak, but could find no words. Focus was dim, but she could see fear in his eyes, as he looked up at someone.

"Between the breathing treatments and the pneumonia, inflammation in the trachea has caused a strain on her vocal cords." The nurse explained, sending Brennan's head flopping in her direction. She tried to focus on the woman, but found that she couldn't, or didn't care to and her head turned to her other side, where Booth slowly came into focus.

Her eyes focused on his face, the darker bruises from his fight from Max evident immediately as she let out a painful whimper. "Don't try to talk, Bones." He whispered. His hands in hers were warm and soft, and he involuntarily lifted her hand to his lips, dropping a tender kiss on her knuckle he kept his eyes focused on hers, and watched as her eyes traveled to his mouth. Her thumb moved slowly, catching his lip with the tip, it slowly slid across his cracked lip, sending a small shot of pain through his mouth. He watched her brow knit as her own lip trembled, her focus on the small split in his skin as she tried to ask with her eyes what had happened.

"After all of this, and you're wondering what happened to me?" He asked her tenderly. He lifted his hand to her brow, tenderly sliding the hair on her forehead to the side as he rested his hand with his thumb at her temple. His eyes traveled to hers, and he shook his head just slightly. "I deserve everything I get and more. Don't waste your energy feeling sorry for me." He said, watching a tear escape her eye, his heart ached for her, as he lean down gently and kissed her cheek. "Just get better." He said softly. "Just keep getting better." He whispered, watching her eyes flutter close, as the grip on his hand became just a bit tighter, before loosening once more as she drifted back to sleep.