A/N: Hey, everyone. I'm really sorry for the delay, but real life has been packed for the past week. And this chapter contains the first scene I ever envisioned, the first one I wrote, when I came up with this story. And I wanted to review everything. To make any additions and changes. Because this is a big one…
Your reviews make my day. Please keep them coming. And enjoy.
Chapter Ten
Iris
And I´d give up
forever to touch you And all I can taste in this
moment
´Cause I know that you feel me
somehow
You´re the closest to heaven that I´ll ever be
And I
don´t wanna go home right now
And all I can breathe is your life
And sooner or later
it´s over
I just don´t wanna miss you tonight
~Goo Goo Dolls
After Booth tore out on a mission, leaving her standing alone in his own apartment, Angela took a moment to collect herself before heading outside, where Hodgins was waiting in the car.
"I saw G-man take off," Hodgins commented. "That's good."
Angela nodded once, then promptly dissolved into tears once again. She'd cried for a good half hour after reading the e-mail before she was finally able to compose herself and realize what she had to do: alert Booth.
"Baby…" Hodgins pulled his fiancée as close to him as the seats in the car allowed. "She's going to be alright. It's Booth. He'll save her."
Angela shook her head vigorously, sending tears flying. "What if he's too late this time, Jack?"
Jack swallowed. This was the question that hung between them, pulsing with fear. Willing himself to sound certain, to reassure Angela, he repeated himself, "It's Booth. He wouldn't let anything happen to Brennan."
Angela drew back to look at him, her eyes wide and wet. "But…you said when you two were buried…you said Bren held on because she..she just knew Booth was coming, that he'd save her. This time…she has no idea." Hodgins nodded, silently. "What if she doesn't hold on until he can get there?"
~(B*B)~
Booth couldn't sit still. He had a ticket to Seattle clutched in his hand. He'd been able to get a flight out at 6:30, and was supposed to land in Seattle around midnight, his time…nine p.m. in Washington state.
He had no way of knowing what kind of situation he'd be walking into. He didn't know if he'd arrive in time.
Hence the fact that he was sitting in the middle of an airport, with no luggage or a concrete plan, and unable to stop shaking.
He ran a trembling hand over his face, then reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the folded, crumpled e-mail he'd never given back to Angela.
Booth's eyes moved over the words yet again. He didn't know what kind of fight she'd had with Angela (something about talking to Sweets?). He didn't know what she meant when she said Angela had saved her twice…he hadn't even known they'd been friends since they were sixteen.
But he didn't ruminate on any of that. Instead, he read her words about home, again and again. He thought about the past month, when he'd been away from home. What he'd been missing, besides Parker, was Bones. Apparently, you could be homesick for a person, not only a place.
"C'mon, Bones," he whispered, tracing his thumb over her name on the e-mail. "Just wait for me."
As soon as the words left his mouth, a voice crackled over the speaker, calling him to board.
~(B*B)~
"You ready?" Perotta asked.
Brennan started, then turned to look at her. She'd been fitted with the tracking device in her left ear, and was now armed with two carefully concealed weapons. She drew a breath, and repeated, in a tone of almost wonderment, "Am I ready…."
Completing misreading her tone and expression, Perotta tilted her head and said seriously, "Dr. Brennan, if you're not sure about this…we don't have to do this."
"I'm sure," Brennan replied immediately. She glanced at the clock; it was nearly 8:30. "Let's go."
~(B*B)~
It was the longest flight of Booth's life, even thought it wasn't even six hours long. He held the tattered e-mail in his lap, clutching it with both hands, a reminder he didn't need.
He never relaxed; instead, Booth sat straight and stiff in his seat, methodically reminding himself to take calm, level breaths, even while fear coiled like a cobra, tight around his lungs.
His heart began to thump heavily in his chest at the first announcement that the landing was approaching. Booth leaned forward as though to prepare himself to get off the plane immediately. His thighs began to bounce spasmodically, earning him several annoyed glances that Booth didn't see.
Soon, he was bursting out of the terminal and moving as swiftly as he could through the airport. He didn't have much of a plan; just the location of the Seattle field office and the name of the agent who was the head on the case.
Booth grabbed a cab outside the airport and arrived at the field office. Before he spoke to any agents, he directed himself toward the lab, hoping that by some miracle, he'd find her there, perfectly alright.
The lab, though was deserted. It was, after all, nearly ten. The offices were mostly empty as well, including the one with the name Special Agent Lucas Wellman on the door. After about ten minutes, though, he found the office of the Seattle field office Special Agent in Charge, William Hogan, man about ten years older than Booth who oversaw the field office.
"Sir, I'm Special Agent Booth from DC…" he began, by way of introduction.
"Oh, yes," The man replied. "Deputy Director Cullen called to tell me to expect you fairly late." This was news to Booth.
"I need to speak to Agent Wellman," Booth said swiftly. "I understand he's been working with my partner."
"Well, I'm afraid Agent Wellman is doing field work this evening, Agent Booth."
Just like that, Booth's stomach twisted. Out in the field, at this hour, on a serial killer case…they weren't questioning people. They were going after the guy.
The question that had been tormenting him the entire flight, the agonizing uncertainty of what exactly had prompted Brennan's e-mail…he almost had the answer.
Then, by some miracle, Hogan continued, "But I'm fairly certain your partner and Agent Perotta weren't to be a part of tonight's operation…small scale, not too many involved."
His stomach loosening slightly, Booth blinked up at him. "Do you have any idea where I could find Dr. Brennan? It's…it's very important that I see her."
Agent Hogan seemed perplexed at the urgency in Booth's tone, the panic brimming over in his eyes. But Hogan just nodded, "I can give you the name of the hotel where she's staying. It's just down the street. If you have any problems, I'll give you my number, you can give me a call…"
That's how, at 10:15, Booth was standing at the front desk of a Holiday Inn, flashing his badges and insisting he be given a room number.
The burning need to find her, that single-minded determination only began to fade when the elevator opened on her floor. Booth halted outside of it, suddenly seized with a different type of fear.
What the hell would he say to her? How did he explain this? What would she say, when she first saw him? She thought he was dead.
This, having to do this with her, was never something he'd anticipated.
He took his time walking down the hallway and stopping outside her room. Gathering himself, Booth inhaled deeply, cleansing…and knocked.
Nothing happened.
Booth knocked again, straining his ears for the sound of movement.
Nothing.
Just like that, the panic began to return. He moved to the room two doors down, Perotta's, which he'd asked for just in case. He pounded on it, to no results.
Booth felt a chill crawl down the length of his spine. What if Hogan had been wrong? Because if he was right, after all, what had been the event to prompt Brennan's goodbye to Angela?
Booth whipped out his phone and dialed the number Hogan had given him. His tone crisp, he began with "This is Booth. She isn't at the hotel. Perotta, either… Is there another place I could find her?" He paused, breathing hard, then added, "Sir?"
Now the man definitely sounded bewildered by the badly concealed panic woven through Booth's tone. "Agent Booth, I have no way of knowing where they might be spending their evening, but I do understand that Agent Wellman and his team had arranged to meet Agent Perotta at our lab when his own operation was complete, to go over new details. Dr. Brennan might accompany her there."
"When will that be?"
"No way of knowing." Hogan hesitated. "Is everything alright, Agent Booth?"
Booth closed his eyes, then started back to the elevator. "Everything's fine, sir, I just..need to see my partner. To…to tell her something." Booth swallowed, his throat dry. "Thanks for your help, I'm sorry to bother you."
Hanging up, Booth stepped into the lobby, heading once again for the field office, trying to take comfort in the fact that Brennan wasn't part of whatever operation was occurring that night.
Still, something in his gut wouldn't allow him to relax, and the thick knot of terror remained.
There was nothing he could do but wait.
~(B*B)~
"Keep walking. Don't look so alert…be distracted. And stick to the walking paths, why would a woman by herself be wandering around under all those trees?"
Perotta had kept a running commentary going in her ear, where a small audio speaker had been place. There was a mic clipped on the inside of Brennan's shirt, but she rarely spoke into it.
It was 10:30. She'd been wandering the park aimlessly for about an hour and a half, Perotta following subtly, out of sight. She'd stopped to sit on benches, staring off into space for a good while, before standing up and walking slowly away, doing everything to convey the impression that she was distracted by something, maybe had come to the park to gather her thoughts, or to get away from something.
It wasn't a difficult portrayal.
During these long stretches, she tuned out Perotta and turned her thoughts to Booth. Moments flitted through her memory, some that had always been significant to her (like Jasper, her Christmas tree, or the way they'd smiled at each other after he pulled her from the sand) and others only striking her now (him flying to New Orleans for her, singing her father's favorite song in the diner, throwing clay at each other at ceramics class).
She thought about getting back from Guatemala, three years ago, when he'd "rescued" her and pulled her into field work. She'd thought, at the close of that case, that their newfound partnership would change things for her career.
It turned out to change her entire life.
Now, wandering through this park, the inky black sky enveloping her in darkness, she was exhausted and hollow and hurting. She wanted it to end. She was here because she wanted it to end.
But for the first time, with every memory she had of him turning over in her mind, Brennan admitted to herself that it was worth it.
He had been worth it.
Perotta was hissing instructions into her ear. "…no one after about eleven, so we should be able to head in by then, another half hour, maybe…"
Brennan reached up and flicked the audio speaker off, then did the same to her mic. Instantly, silence overwhelmed her.
Picking up her pace, Brennan moved from the walking path and moved forward, toward the woodsy area that bordered the trails, the one opposite where Perotta was hiding.
~(B*B)~
Perotta crouched low in the underbrush. The walking trail at Agape Park was bordered by woods on both sides, providing a convenient location for her to observe, out of sight.
As long as Brennan stuck to the paths (which was also convenient…she couldn't think of any reason why any of their victims would have been wandering the woods), everything would be fine.
Perotta watched as Brennan slowed slightly, then came to a stop. Perotta tensed instantly. "What is it?" She whispered into the mic. "Did you hear something? See him?"
Without answering, Brennan turned, and began to speed walk into the woods opposite Perotta.
"What the hell are you doing?" Perotta half stood, torn. She didn't know if Brennan was just straying from the plan or if she'd actually spotted something. "Dr. Brennan?! Dr. Brennan, what…"
There was no answer. Perotta hesitated, unsure about hurling herself into the open when she wasn't sure what was happening.
"Dr. Brennan?" She tried again, into the mic, anticipating the lack of response.
There was a shaking in her jeans pocket. Perotta reached down and pulled out her cell phone, the one she'd been using for nothing but contacting Agent Wellman and Deputy Director Cullen for the past week.
There was a text there, from Lucas.
Headed back to lab. No luck in Tryon. Dr.B may have been right .Meet us there to reassess.
Perotta groaned inwardly, feeling a flash of annoyance.
Then, she stood up, drawing her gun, and headed off after the anthropologist who, for some reason, seemed to have given her the slip.
~(B*B)~
Booth was in the lab for almost half an hour before a small group of agents entered.
Before they could even register his presence, Booth stood and addressed the man at the front. "You Agent Wellman?"
Wellman's eyes narrowed. "Yes. Who the hell are you?"
Booth flashed his badge. "Special Agent Booth, DC. I'm looking for my partner, and I understand she's been working with you on this serial killer case."
His eyebrows drew together. "What? Your partner's Payton?"
"No, Brennan. Where the hell is she?"
Wellman's forehead furrowed even deeper. "Payton said…Dr. Brennan's partner died."
"Not dead, just an undercover op." Booth replied brusquely, his patience long gone. "Where the hell is my Bones?" At Wellman's bewildered look, Booth, flushing slightly, corrected himself. "I mean my partner. Where's my partner?"
Shaking his head, Wellman told him, "No idea. She wasn't working with us tonight…but I'd guess she's at her hotel."
"No, she isn't," Booth retorted, his voice raising in volume, as though Wellman should have known this. His hands clenched involuntarily into fists at his side, his nails digging into the skin of his palm. "I checked."
Wellman exchanged a glance with one of the other agents, quite obviously fearing for Booth's sanity. "Perotta is supposed to be meeting us here…I'm sure she'll bring Dr. Brennan with her." He paused, then added, "There wasn't any work for the case they were doing, so I'm sure your partner's perfectly alright."
Booth deflated, realizing that, once again, he could only wait. He mumbled something noncommittal as a poor excuse for a reply, wishing he could believe Wellman's final statement, but something in his gut insisted that something was wrong.
Of course, after that e-mail, he wouldn't accept that she was safe until he had Bones wrapped in his arms.
~(B*B)~
After a good twenty minutes of weaving around off the path, Brennan emerged at a completely different section of the park, then flipped back on the audio device nestled in her right ear. This time, there was silence.
She'd lost Perotta.
Brennan's eyes darted around the park, deserted. She'd been wandering for two hours now. She didn't understand.
She was right; that much Brennan knew. But nothing had happened.
They'd assumed a woman cutting through the park at night, or even just walking around it deep in thought, would stick to the walking paths, or the open areas near the lake. She'd covered all those.
What were they missing?
Brennan glanced up, and noticed the park's exit in the distance; an arched, metal spelling of the name over two brick columns. Surrounded by large, leafy bushes on either side.
It was possible. The victims could have been taken while leaving.
Brennan began to move toward it.
~(B*B)~
For half an hour, Perotta searched the wooded area of the woods, never seeing a sign of the anthropologist.
She was tired. Her feet hurt. And she was more than a little nervous, her hand clutching her gun and tightening instinctively at any little noise.
Lucas was back at the lab by now. They were supposed to be there.
This whole idea was seeming more and more foolish.
She was on the verge of giving up, of writing Dr. Brennan off as impossible to understand, returning to the lab to check the tracking device and enlist the help of the others, when it happened.
Off in the distance, cracking through the silence of the night, was a single gunshot.
~(B*B)~
Brennan knew he was behind her about five seconds before he grabbed her arm.
She was about ten feet from the exit of the park, and one hand grabbed her arm, the other trying to wrap around her mouth, presumably to press the chloroform soaked rag against her mouth.
But it turned out that it didn't matter why she was there, or what she'd hoped would happen. Instinct was instinct, and Brennan's had been developed long ago. As soon as he hand connected with her arm, she lifted her foot and kicked backward, against his shins. This surprised him enough that Brennan was able to twist herself free, hooking a foot underneath his impaired legs to trip him.
As he went down, the killer, who in the darkness Brennan could only determine was a tall, lean man, caught her ankle and sent her sprawling.
She grabbed desperately for the gun holstered to her side, fingers fumbling with the safety.
She wasn't quite fast enough, and soon the killer was looming over her, knocking her arm away as she fired once, uselessly, into the emptiness. Then he was kneeling on her chest, one arm pinning hers, the other pressing chloroform over her mouth.
Then everything was dissolving.
~(B*B)~
Booth was dying.
He was sitting in a chair at an empty lab station, sick to his stomach, not understanding why Perotta wasn't answering Wellman's continuous phone calls, not understanding what that meant for Bones.
Then at nearly 11:30, Perotta burst into the lab, hysterical. And alone.
"Luke! Lucas…" She ran right up to the other Agent, not noticing Booth. "We went to Agape, we wanted to set our own trap, I'm sorry…"
"Wait…you what? By yourself?"
"You should have listened to her, Lucas! She was right, and we didn't want someone else to get killed while you were wasting time in the wrong park."
A wave of dizziness had overtaken Booth, and though he didn't understand much of what was being said, there was enough for him to discern that something had gone very, very wrong.
He stood roughly and approached Perotta, whose eyes instantly widened. Grabbing her arms a little harder than strictly necessary, he asked, in a strangled voice, "Where's Brennan? What happened to her?"
Perotta looked like she was in shock. Stammering quietly, she stated, "Y-you're…you're dead…"
He shook his head vigorously. "No, I'm not. Obviously. Now that we've cleared that up, tell me what the hell happened to my partner!"
Perotta didn't look shocked anymore; she looked terrified. Her eyes darted to the side, finding Wellman's instead of Booth's. Her voice barely audible, she admitted, "I think he got her."
"You think?" Booth hissed through his teeth.
"I…I lost her and…there was a gunshot…I found her gun on the ground, but Dr. Brennnan…she wasn't anywhere."
Booth let go of Perotta's arms abruptly, stumbling backwards like he'd been pushed. A chilling, icy cold moved through him, and he raised violently trembling hands to cover his face.
Wellman and Perotta were talking, arguing maybe. He didn't hear a word, until Perotta said his own name.
"Booth, we…we fixed her with a tracking device. So, we should be able to-"
Booth instantly uncovered his face, pulling himself together. "Pull it up. Tell me where she is."
Moments later, Booth and the others were crowded around a screen, staring at a map.
"Shit…" Wellman and Perotta exchanged a glance.
"What?! What is that…where…where is she?" Booth's voice was nearing hysteria.
"In the mountains…less than a mile from where we found the bodies," Wellman provided quietly.
Booth's stomach pitched forward, the bitter, acidic taste of bile rising in his throat. He bit back the nausea, teeth gritted, then demanded, "I need a chopper to take me there. With a medical team. Now."
~(B*B)~
Brennan woke up in the dark.
She was lying on the ground, rocky and barren. Her hands and legs were bound with thick ropes, and her arm was stinging and slick with blood.
She was completely silent for a long moment, listening for breathing or footsteps. Hearing none, Brennan was able to determine that she was alone for now.
At the killing site.
Her eyes slowly began to adjust to the darkness, although there wasn't much to see. Taking in her surroundings, Brennan observed a small cave-type area. She could see a sliver of moonlight peeking in through an opening at one end, slightly higher on the cave wall.
She had no way of knowing how long she'd been there, unconscious. She could feel the weight of the second gun, holstered against her lower leg, but thanks to the ropes, she had no way of getting to it.
Brennan could only wait.
She thought, suddenly, of being kidnapped by Kenton, the last time she'd been bound and gagged. She thought of Booth, injured himself (for her, yet again), bursting in and lifting her up, pulling her close. Saving her.
This time, no one was coming.
The minutes passed slowly. Brennan soon lost any sense of time as she lie there, her head pounding, listening for footsteps.
She'd spent the entire evening thinking of Booth, but the next thought Brennan had was not of him, but of Angela. She thought of waking up in the hospital, after those two days in the trunk, to find Angela right there, waiting for her, red-eyed and terrified.
Brennan really, really hoped Angela would be okay. She suddenly wished she'd seen her one more time, to tell her everything she'd written in that e-mail in person.
As time stretched on, Brennan tugged futilely on the ropes on her wrists, the rope chafing and burning against her skin, not loosening at all.
So, after awhile, she stilled, closed her eyes, and waited.
~(B*B)~
Booth stared out the window the chopper, his heart thrumming in time to the whir of the blades.
He was trying not to think about what Wellman and Perotta had told him, waiting on the helicopter. That the killer's victims died of stab wounds. That it was always within six hours, sometimes much sooner.
That Brennan had run off, refused to answer, long before Perotta heard the gunshot.
"This is as close as we can get you," The pilot told him.
Booth nodded, his heart lodged in his throat. They'd told him this. He had a map, and so did the medical team, who were going to follow him at a safe distance.
He would find her. He had to.
~(B*B)~
Brennan didn't know how long it had been, but after all that endless waiting, it all happened fast.
One moment there was nothing. Then that sliver of moonlight grew, and Brennan squinted, noticing two large hands shoving rocks away from the opening.
Then the killer was dropping down through the opening and standing, slightly hunched, above her. He leered down at Brennan; she could see him more clearly now: the graying beard, the small, black eyes, the scar on his chin.
He wasn't much for talking. No elongated psycho speech to explain his 'motives'. He bent in front of her, and Brennan looked away, heart slowing. Then he touched her; cold clammy hands, grasping her hair, then tracing the length of her body. Brennan flinched; she wished he'd just get it over with.
Like he'd read her mind, Brennan heard the clank of metal, and glanced up in time to see light reflecting off the blade of his knife.
Then, he plunged it into her abdomen.
~(B*B)~
Booth was moving so fast he couldn't see the medical team behind him. He had the number of one of the medics plugged into his phone, and was praying to God he wouldn't need them anyway.
It was nearly midnight, and it was hard navigating the rocky, uneven trail in the dark. His legs, leaden, stumbled over the path.
With every step, he prayed, the same thing over and over, running together.
Please. Please let her be okay please please let her be okay let her be okay…
He slowed after awhile, sure he was near the sight. He was worried, though, about finding the opening…Wellman had warned him it was some sort of small caved in area, probably mostly covered.
Then, not too far to his left, Booth heard the gunshot.
~(B*B)~
He plunged the knife deep into her abdomen, and white hot, blinding pain seared through Brennan, causing her to cry out.
The killer pulled the knife out, unevenly. The dark cave spun around her, and Brennan had to gasp for air. Brennan squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could pass out. The sharp, metallic taste of blood filled her throat, and Brennan coughed, sending pain shooting from her lungs to her throat.
The killer reached around her and sliced his knife cleanly through the ropes binding her wrists, deliberately grazing her palm, the same hand where she'd sliced her wrist in West Virgina. Then, he sliced the skin of the other hand.
Brennan jerked her hands forward, whimpering quietly.
Then suddenly she realized what had happened; what she could do.
She squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them, forcing herself to focus, even though her surroundings were swimming in front of her, blood trickling in her throat. She pressed one hand to the wound on her stomach, and it was instantly soaked. She felt numb between her chest and legs.
Then she reached down, maneuvering her jeans from her ankles up, until she clutched the gun in her hand.
She didn't think of the way he'd grabbed her in the park, or the wound in her stomach. But she did think of the victims she'd been examining for the past week.
And as he straightened up, readying for another stab, Brennan aimed between his eyes and pulled the trigger.
He was dead.
Brennan rolled her head to the side, coughing violently, blood spattering on the rock floor.
She was dizzy and her vision was narrowing. Her hands were throbbing painfully, and her legs were numb where the ropes were too tight.
Brennan closed her eyes, leaning her head back, and waited, just once more.
Then, she heard, the sweetest word she knew, the voice that meant she was finally, finally going home.
"Bones!"
~(B*B)~
Booth was running, faster than he'd ever run before, except for maybe that day in the sand quarry.
The echo of the gunshot leading him, he found a gap, with a large rock on the side. Lowering himself in, Booth found himself in a cave, two bodies on the floor.
The first one, the one on the opposite end, was a man, bleeding from the head. Then, he saw Bones. Every organ in his body stopped working of its own accord.
"Bones!" He knelt beside her; she was bleeding from the stomach…badly. Her face was ashen, and there was blood caked on her mouth and chin. Tears stung is his eyes, as he pressed a quivering hand gently to her wound. "Oh, God, Bones…" Raising his other hand, he shakily dialed the medics. Her eyes, which had been fluttering, opened, sought his, and suddenly lit with pure joy.
~(B*B)~
This was how she knew she was dying.
He was there.
Booth was standing in front of her. Touching her, talking softly. Everything just the way he remembered. She couldn't make out the words; it was like they were coming from far away.
She only knew that he was there. And it didn't make any sense. Because Booth was dead, and she'd always firmly believed, never questioning, that after death there was nothing.
But he was there.
And Brennan had never been so glad to be wrong.
~(B*B)~
Booth peeled his jacket off and pressed it to the wound, alarmed at how quickly it became stained crimson.
She began to struggle, trying to sit up.
He cupped the hand not wet with her blood against Bones' hair. "Don't try to move, Bones. It's alright, helps coming I promise…" Something wet dripped on his thigh, and only then did Booth realize the tears in his eyes had begun to drip down his face. "I'm here…"
~(B*B)~
Booth was muttering soft, soothing words to Brennan. She couldn't hear anything, but she could make out the sound of his voice, floating through the fog.
And nothing hurt anymore.
He was trying to stop the bleeding. Typical Booth. Even now, when she was so close to dead that she could see him, he wouldn't give up on her.
"Booth. Booth…." She repeated his name, needing him to listen, so she could tell him to stop. "Booth, it's alright…just…just leave…it…Booth…"
His name caught in her throat, she was seized with yet another brutal coughing fit.
~(B*B)~
Bones was muttering something, gurgling words that made no sense. It scared him, to see the generally articulate doctor like this.
She began to cough, hard, blood splattering everywhere. Booth's stomach rolled as he gently guided her head to the side. "Hold on, Bones…just hold on another minute…c'mon."
Brennan's hands were searching, and they found his chest. Her palms left bloody splotches on his shirt as they fisted the material, and she was pulling herself up to a sitting position, no matter how much he tried to protest.
Booth reached behind her, pulling the arms of his jacket tight and knotting them, keeping the pressure over the wound.
~(B*B)~
Brennan reached for him, holding tight, assuring that he wouldn't leave her again. She wanted to be closer to him; she pulled herself up, lightheaded and shaky from the effort.
And then Booth did what she'd needed for a month: he reached his arms around her.
She pulled herself closer, nestling against his chest, summoning the last of her rapidly draining strength to cling tightly to him.
The scent of Booth hit her at once; until now, she'd had these only as memories, triggered by a T-shirt or a pillow. And suddenly, it was right there.
Everything around her was fading. Everything but him.
Brennan pressed her face into his shoulder, tears streaming, wetting his shirt. And she waited for him to take her away.
~(B*B)~
Booth finally stopped fighting it. As she curled against him, he held her for all he was worth.
He wasn't an idiot; he knew how much blood there was. He could see the extent of the stab wound in her stomach. He could hear the liquid rattling every time she took a breath.
If, God forbid, Bones didn't make it…he was going to hold her one more time. He was going to make sure she knew he was there.
Suddenly, Booth was wracked with sobs, and he dug his teeth into his bottom lift to keep quiet, tears dripping into her hair.
And he waited for the medics to come and take her away.
A/N: Okay, guys. This was one of the two most important chapters. And the other one is…well, the next chapter. So far, anyway. Ha.
I hope it satisfied. And I hope it's left you wanting more. The reunion happened, yes, but not quite in that "wait, I thought you were dead' way. So hopefully the twist worked.
I love your reviews. You guys are awesome readers. I'd love to know what you thought, in as much detail as you can give me.