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Oooooooooooooooooo

Waking, Booth rolled over and discovered that he was in bed alone. His hand resting on the cool sheets, he realized that Brennan had been gone for awhile. Checking the clock on the nightstand, he discovered that the time was 11:14. Shocked, Booth rolled out of bed and walked quickly over to his dresser. Changing his clothes, he put on his shoes, grabbed his wallet, phone, watch, lighter and poker chip, dropped them in his jacket pocket and rushed out of the room and down the stairs. Entering the living room, he found Brennan sitting on the couch with her lap top open on her lap while their daughter knelt next to the coffee table, coloring in an Activities book.

"What the hell is going on Bones?" Angry, Booth crossed the room and confronted his wife, "I set my alarm clock for seven and it's after eleven. Why'd you turn off the alarm?"

Glancing at Christine who was staring at her father, Brennan shook her head, "You're exhausted, Booth. You need to rest before you collapse."

The look of alarm on his daughter's face enough to make him pause, Booth lowered his voice, "Bones, there is a lot of sh . . . . stuff going on right now. I needed to be at the Hoover this morning, not at home in bed."

Shaking her head, Brennan replied, "Director Morse requested that you stay home today. He called at six this morning but you were so exhausted you didn't hear your phone. I answered it and Director Morse told me that Attorney General Stevens was arrested and brought in late last night. They found his blackmail material and it has been taken to the Hoover. NSA has been notified and they have agents at the Hoover helping the FBI go through what was found. The Director didn't want you there because he was . . . he doesn't want you at the Hoover today because of what Stevens did to you."

Furious, Booth clenched his hands and walked away from Brennan. Crossing the living room, he opened the front door and slammed it shut as he left the house. Marching down the steps, he strode over to his truck and stopped. Resting his hands on the hood, he glared at his splinted fingers on his left hand.

His rage threatening to overwhelm him, Booth finally got into his truck and drove away.

Ooooooooooooooo

Fidgeting, Booth flipped the lid on his lighter open and closed, "It looks like my case might be closing soon and the . . . and the guy we arrested . . . shit, I still can't talk about it. . . . The guy they arrested. . . . Director Morse didn't want me to come in today because he was afraid I might . . . you know what . . . the hell with it and them, he was afraid I might try to kill the sorry son-of-a-bitch they arrested last night."

Perplexed, Gordon leaned forward, "Is that what the Director said, that he was afraid you'd kill someone they have in custody?"

Slowly shaking his head, Booth kept his gaze on his lighter, "No, he told Bones to tell me to stay home because the guy that they arrested had done something . . . well had something done to me. The implication was there though. He wanted me to stay away because I might go Postal and kill the guy. . . . everyone thinks I'm psycho, even Bones. She turned off my alarm clock so I'd sleep late. She doesn't trust me either. They all think I'm dangerous, everyone."

Prodding Booth, Gordon clasped his hands together, "The man they arrested, was he responsible for the attack on you at your home?"

Too angry to speak, Booth nodded his head.

Sighing, Gordon leaned back on his chair, "I think you're taking this a bit too far, Booth. They know what you went through, being attacked in your home and imprisoned under false charges. I'm sure their main concern isn't that you'd murder the man responsible for your pain but that you've been under an enormous amount of stress and that being in the same building as the man who caused all of your troubles lately would just add to your burden."

Slowly shaking his head, Booth flipped the lid on his lighter closed and stood up. Moving over to the window Booth parted the blinds and looked out at the parking lot, "You're wrong, Doc. Everyone is afraid I'm a volcano ready to erupt. Every time I talk to someone you can see them tense up and try to weigh what they want to say to me before they say it. Even Bones has been handling me differently since I've come home. Hell, let me be totally honest here, for the last few days shes barely talked to me about anything unless it's about Christine or work. She acts like I'm . . . I'm not sure how it happened but she changed about two or three days after I got out of prison. She's been involved in our search for the guy that was arrested last night but when she's with me she barely says anything about it. I don't know if she's afraid of me or afraid of what I might do, I just don't know and I'm afraid to ask her." Shaking his head, Booth removed his fingers from the blinds and turned to stare at Gordon, "I want it to be the way it was . . . God, I'm afraid she's going to leave me and I don't know what to do to stop it. It's not her fault either. It's all my fault."

Licking his bottom lip, Gordon shook his head slowly, "Booth, she loves you and she is not going to leave you. Look, part of your problem is that you're suffering from anxiety and depression. You're taking medication to help but it all takes time. The biggest part of your problem is that you were in prison for over three months after being attacked in your home and almost killed. It's possible you've been living in a state of hyper vigilance for so long that you're having trouble letting that go. You're seeing threats or perceived tension where it doesn't exist or at least naught like you think it does. Has she said anything to you about this? It's possible you're misinterpreting what you're seeing. You need to remember that this whole thing can't have been very pleasant for her either."

Moving over to the couch, Booth sat down and placed his hands over his eyes, "I know, Doc. She's been through hell because of me. I know she loves me, but, I'm so angry all the time and she . . . I don't know, maybe I'm just paranoid. I don't know. . . . I'm afraid, Doc. I'm on edge all the time. I try to relax and sometimes I can but then something happens and . . . Bones is the best thing that ever happened to me, but what if I screw this up and she leaves me? I need her, I need my Bones. She's the only thing that keeps me sane anymore. If she leaves me . . ."

Worried, Gordon sat forward on his couch, "Booth, I think you need to talk to Temperance. You need to sit down with her and really talk to her. If you can't do that then bring her here and I'll help you do it but you can't let this go on. Do you understand? For your own sanity if not hers please talk to her."

Removing his hands from his face, Booth stared at Gordon with a look of despair, "I'll try. . . I'll try."

Leaning over and patting Booth's knee, Gordon nodded his head, "Do it soon. Do it today."

Nodding his head, Booth agreed, "I will."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Sitting on the porch of his house, Booth heard the front door open and then close. Waiting, he felt her hand touch his shoulder and then keep her hand on his shoulder while she moved down the steps. Sitting down next to him she moved her hand away, "What's going on Booth?"

"You know I've been talking to Gordon Wyatt about my problems." Staring at his splinted fingers, he explained, "I'm trying to fix me. I know that you . . . I don't blame you, but you've been acting differently since I came home. I . . . . I know I've been on edge and things have been tense between us but I'm trying to fix me Bones. I'm trying to fix me. Please give me time to do it. Please give me time."

Placing her arm around Booth's arm, Brennan leaned against him, "Booth, I don't know what's going on, but if you think I'm going to leave you then can stop worrying about that. I'm not going anywhere. I've been trying to give you space and time but perhaps I misinterpreted what you needed and what I should have done was just give you time. . . . We're fine, Booth. We're a team and I'm not going anywhere. Wherever you are then that's where I want to be."

Relief flooding his mind, Booth removed his arm form hers and wrapped his arms around her instead, "God, I love you so much, Bones. I would never hurt you, you know that right? I'll never hurt you or Christine."

Shocked, Brennan placed her hand on his chin, "Booth, I do know that. I don't know why you think I'm worried about something like that but you need to stop that train of thought. I love you and I know you love me. You're having trouble with depression, I know that. Once this is all over and Stevens is in prison, I think a lot of the stress you're feeling will go away. The FBI and the NSA are pouring over his blackmail materials right now. Soon they're going to find out who the FBI mole is and once we know that our part of this will be over. The men that tried to kill you are dead. The congressman who used your personnel records in a public hearing is going to be be punished. It's almost over Booth. It's almost over."

Holding her, Booth nodded his head, "It is. I'm tired of all of it but you're right, it's almost over and we can handle whatever happens next. I'm right aren't I? We can handle it?"

Leaning up and kissing him, Brennan smiled, "We're Booth and Bones, of course we can handle it."

Ooooooooooooooo

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A/N: Finally the identity of the mole is revealed in the next chapter. Thanks for your patience.