Despite the fact that she had never actually attempted this before, Brennan felt confidence blossoming and chasing away any hesitation as she picked up the chain saw and turned towards Booth. A strange look came over his face, but he didn't move. He trusted her.

"Death is my gift," she repeated over and over again as she tore him into pieces. She reached over and put some of his blood on her face.

Death is my gift.

Brennan had sat up quickly, panting loudly and covered with sweat. Even after taking a shower, gulping down a cup of coffee, and listening to music, she hadn't been able to get her mind off of the dream.

"Bones, you all right? You seem distracted," Booth asked while they were on their way to a therapy session with Sweets.

"It's nothing. Just a dream I keep having," Brennan replied, shaking her head a little as if that would clear her thoughts.

"You want to talk about it?" For a long time, there was no reply. Just as Booth started to regret bringing it up, Brennan spoke.

"I keep having this dream where I kill the people I care about while they just stand there, not moving because they trust me not to do anything bad. And over and over again, the phrase 'death is my gift' comes up," She said hesitantly.

"I have dreams sometimes where I hurt the people I care about too. I think it's just part of our job, what we do. And if anything, life is your gift. You bring truth to people's lives by solving the murders of their loved ones, and making it easier for them to go on with their lives."

He had always been good at giving her deep speeches that make her feel better. This time was no exception.

Life is my gift.