Disclaimer: Lyrics are "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper

Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick and think of you

Caught up in circles - confusion is nothing new

Flash back, warm nights, almost left behind

Suitcase of memories

Brennan tried to keep herself distracted. She read magazine after magazine. Watched one terrible talk show after another. Struggled through the news. And nearly dozed off through several soap operas. She tried to keep herself from obsessively watching the clock but was unable. Four hours turned into five. Six turned into seven. When seven and a half hours had passed she could hardly keep herself together. Booth had told her about Debbie's surgery. Had it been like this? Should she have been as worried as she felt?

Sometimes you picture me

I'm walking too far ahead

You're calling to me

I can't hear what you've said

"Okay. I think we're just about finished." Dr. Paxton finished the last stitch in Booth's arm. "How is he doing?" He looked to his assistants.

One nurse was keeping close tabs on the assortment of machines keeping monitor over Booth. "His blood pressure is rising. Rapidly."

Dr. Paxton whirled around to look. Just as he did Booth's pressure increased enough to sound off an alarm. His pulse sped up. Suddenly before them Booth began gasping for air. His entire body trembled, shaking the table he was laying on.

"Get CO2 on him and call a code!" Dr. Paxton ordered.

An oxygen mask was secured over his mouth and nose. It did little to help as his frail body wheezed.

Then you say go slow

I fall behind

The second hand unwinds

Brennan was hardly holding her paralyzing panic inside by the time Dr. Paxton sought her out. It'd been eight and a half hours since Booth had gone into surgery. Two and a half hours past the expected time limit.

"Lets go into the hall," his soft voice requested. He put a gentle hand on her back. His actions only increased the fear she was feeling. Something had happened. If Booth was all right then there was no reason why he couldn't have just talked to her in the waiting room.

Dr. Paxton led her to a private area in the mostly public hospital hallway. She noticed immediately the difficult time he had speaking. "He's out of surgery. But there's been some complications."

Brennan reserved a breath in her lungs. "What happened?"

"The injury he suffered to his arm back while he was working lodged a dose of toxin in between his arm muscle and the tumor. After we removed the tumor that poison loosened and traveled straight into his blood stream."

She found herself unable to breathe. "Is he…" Her eyes fell down to the floor as she could barely finish her sentence.

"He's alive. But he isn't doing well. He's weak. There's no predicting what will happen in the next twenty four hours."

In other words, it wasn't hopeful that Booth would live. Brennan had to focus her gaze on the floor to keep herself from falling apart. "I want to see him."

"Dr. Brennan, I'm so sorry."

Her look snapped up to his.

"We're allowing no visitors into his room. In his compromised state germs can be lethal."

A tear escaped her firm resolve. "I'll wear a mask. I'll wear a surgical coat." She pleaded desperately.

"I'm sorry. The best I can do is let you look in through the window."

It was better than nothing. Brennan nodded her agreement. Everything around her was surreal as she fell into step behind the doctor. Booth should have stopped working sooner than he did. Brennan and Debbie both should have insisted upon it. Her mind ran through all the ifs. If Booth had only told her sooner. If Brennan had been the one taking care of him, not Debbie, would it have made a difference? Of course this line of thinking all came back full circle. If she had only had dinner with him that night so many months ago none of this would have ever happened. Logically she knew this wasn't true. Brenghause obviously had been following Booth's every move. If it hadn't been at the skating rink then he would have snatched her partner from somewhere else. No matter what, part of this was destined to happen. Her involvement in it, however, could have been more. Brennan shouldered all the blame whether it made sense or not.

Dr. Paxton stopped in front of an isolated room locked away in the ICU. Brennan stepped forward and peered into the window. Inside Booth lay in a bed surrounded by monitors. Wires ran from different points on his body. Weakly he breathed in a rapid procession. From a distance she could see he was burning with fever once again. Tears formed in her eyes. "Isn't there any way I can go in?"

"It's too dangerous."

For a brief moment she was silent. Then she barked, "then you better get me a chair."

"What? Why?"

Brennan pressed a hand against the cold glass. "I'm not leaving.

After my picture fades and darkness has turned to gray

Watching through windows you're wondering if I'm okay

All through the night she made good on her threat. Dr. Paxton had no choice but to bring her a chair for her to sit in. No matter how uncomfortable she felt; how much her back hurt from sitting in one position for too long, she never gave up her vigil.

Booth woke from his surgery. Though because of his fever he drifted in and out of consciousness. Dr. Paxton found himself consulting with other doctors regarding his case. All of their efforts to bring the fever down and push out the toxin were futile. His temperature only soared higher. His attempts at breathing only grew faint and frantic.

Nurses checked on him every hour. More than once during the few instances when he was awake he asked the nurses for "Bones." The first time they'd disregarded it, chalking it up to the delirium he was under. But after the third time a nurse brought it to the attention of Dr. Paxton. "He keeps asking for bones. Does that mean anything to you?"

Fortunately, it did. Dr. Paxton remembering Booth referring to Dr. Brennan as "Bones." "He wants Dr. Brennan."

The nurse nodded sympathetically. "You should just let her go in."

"It's risky."

"With all due respect, his blood pressure is one eighty over one hundred. His fever is leveling at one hundred and four. His heart is racing, and he can't half breathe with a respirator. Doctor, it's more than likely he's not going to survive. You should just let her go in. It might do him some good." The nurse shrugged. She went on her way to finish making rounds.

Dr. Paxton gazed wistfully down the hallway to where Brennan was sitting across from Booth's room.

Secrets stolen from deep inside

The drum beats out of time

Brennan was almost asleep when Dr. Paxton stood over her with a gown and surgical mask. Looking up, she couldn't believe it. "I can go in?"

"He's been asking for you. Just be careful."

She dressed in both. Then she headed inside to his room, shutting the door behind her.

If you're lost you can look and you will find me

Time after time

If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting

Time after time