Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. Let's not even try to imagine what I'd do if I did. ;)

Author's Notes: Inspired by the actual Angel episode 'Dead End'. The Cangel-ness of that episode was so amazing. Cordy: "I love you." Angel: -HUUUGE SMILE-. (Adorableee!) I made a mini-movie icon of that scene. PM me if you want to see it, I'll link ya. XD Anyway. On to the actual Bones and ficness.

DEAD END

Booth stood next to the door. "This has got to be him," he said quietly.

"Do you think we should have called for backup?" whispered Brennan. Booth shook his head.

"More backup would only scare him off." He knocked on the door. "FBI, open up." There was no answer from inside. "FBI!" Booth shouted.

"Booth, go. He could be gone by now." Booth nodded and pressed his gun to the doorknob, blowing the lock apart with one shot. The door swung open, and both Booth and Brennan ran inside.

"Bones, you take the living room, I'll take the bedroom. Gun." He pulled an extra one from his belt and handed it to her. She nodded, and they split up. Brennan walked into the living room slowly, pointing her gun in the direction she was walking. She froze upon seeing who was in it.

A man sat on the couch, looking quite calm. He matched the picture that they had, and Brennan approached him slowly. Seeing that he was holding a rather large knife, she stopped.

"You're Scott Conley?" she asked tentatively, still holding the gun.

"You found me," he said quietly.

"You did it," said Brennan, more a statement than a question. This man was a serial killer. He nodded.

"Every single one. I killed them all. And I'm going to die eventually, aren't I?" He looked up at her. "Death row. I know it. I can see it…" He shut his eyes, and Brennan frowned.

"Just…hand me the knife," she said.

"I got nothing here, Bones!" Booth's voice sounded from the other room.

"I don't want to die like that," Scott whispered, shaking his head. "I won't let them kill me."

"You haven't even been arrested yet!" Brennan said. "Booth!" she shouted. "He's here—" But her sentence was cut short.

---

"Booth! He's here—" There was a loud scream—Brennan's scream—and Booth immediately rushed towards the living room. What he saw made his heart pound in his throat. There was blood, all over the cream-colored carpet. Brennan was on her knees on the floor, shaking, and Scott was lying face-up on the floor, a butcher knife protruding from his stomach.

"Jesus Christ," said Booth. "Bones, what the hell happened?" He ran over to her, kneeling next to her and putting his hands on her arms to steady her trembling. "Bones. Tell me what happened." She didn't say anything, just covered her mouth with her hand, tears streaming down her face. "All right, come here," said Booth softly. She buried her head in his chest, sobbing against it. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her tight. "Easy, easy. You're okay." He stroked her hair gently and rested his chin on top of her head, wondering what the hell had happened. A few minutes later her sobbing began to subside, although tears still rolled down her cheeks. He gently tilted her head up towards him. "Hey," he said softly. "You're okay." She nodded, still shaking. He laid a hand on her cheek. "Can you tell me what happened?" Brennan nodded.

"He did it," she said, her voice quavering.

"He did what, Bones?" There was a hint of anxiety in his voice.

"Stabbed himself," she said. "He was—he was there, and he said he didn't want to be arrested, and I—I thought he was going to kill me, but he didn't and the knife and—"

"Slow down," said Booth soothingly. "It's going to be all right." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Just say what happened."

"And he stood up and he stabbed himself," Brennan finished quickly. "And then it kept happening." Booth frowned.

"What?"

"It kept happening!" she repeated. "He did it again, and again, and again, and again, and—"

"He didn't die the first time?"

"He did!" Brennan said, frustrated. "I kept seeing it…" Her tone got quieter. "It kept happening. In my mind." She shut her eyes, trying to hold back tears.

"All right, all right," he said, stroking her cheek softly. "You're okay." Brennan shook her head violently.

"No," she said. She opened her eyes, meeting his concerned gaze. She looked down. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Making a huge deal out of all this…" She gestured towards the body.

"No, no, no!" Booth said. "Sweetheart, you didn't do anything wrong." Something vague registered in the back of Brennan's mind. Did Booth just call me 'sweetheart'? "Bones, listen to me. It's not your fault. You're not 'making a huge deal' out of it." Brennan shook her head again.

"I—" She pulled out of his grip and stood up, brushing her shirt off. "I have to go," she said. Booth stood up with her.

"Bones, I gotta call this in. Stay here, okay?"

"I have to get out…" she mumbled. Booth caught her hand.

"I know," he said, and Brennan saw the concern in his eyes. He squeezed her hand once, quickly but meaningfully, and let go. "Stay with me, okay?" he asked. Brennan nodded.

"Okay."

Please, please, PLEASE review! I'd say I'm above begging, but, um, I'm not. ;) Love you guys!