Author's Note: Part of this chapter is intended for mature audiences

In the days that followed Booth had no choice but to be completely reliant on Brennan. His pain had increased to a point in which mobility had become impossible. The continuous strain he'd placed upon his body had resulted in his ankle ballooning up into the of a grapefruit. Though she urgently tried to plead with him to go to the hospital to be looked over he flat out refused. "I don't need care." He'd insisted one afternoon while she laid with him on the couch.

"Your body says otherwise." She'd remarked. "Booth, why are you depriving yourself something you so obviously need?"

"Because I don't need it. I'll heal." His eyes had told a different story; one of both hurting and disbelief. And for some explicable reason, fear. She'd tried to get him to divulge more when he'd awkwardly maneuvered onto his side and effectively turned away from her. Her frustration mounted. "You're hurting yourself." Lamely she'd tried one last argument. "I just cannot fathom why. Is it because of Jared? Do you believe you need punishment?"

He had gone mute after that. Not before long she'd heard the telltale sounds of sleep. She'd untangled herself from him and risen from the couch. That had been the last time she'd tried to discuss it.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how one viewed it) fate intervened a few days later. She'd left him napping to run some errands with Christine. When she returned home she noticed the couch was vacant for the first time in days. He can't have tried to walk on that leg, she assured herself. But if not, how else would he have gotten around? "Booth?"

"In here," a feeble voice answered. She set Christine down on the floor and followed the din into the kitchen. To her utter horror Booth was lying on the floor in between the counter and the island counter in the center of the room. He'd fallen face first, but had rolled up onto his side. He was just barely keeping himself conscious when she knelt besides him. "My God, Booth. What did you do?"

"Just wanted some water."

This time she had no qualms about phoning for help. Paramedics arrived and promptly carted him off to the hospital. Christine arranged for Max's babysitting services. Then she too, departed. She spent the majority of the drive mentally cursing his stubbornness. Blaming him for not seeking the help he so desperately needed. And now what? What was to become of him now? Would he be debilitated for the rest of his life?

The next few hours were telling. Without Brennan's presence during Booth's initial exam he came clean about several issues. The truth was it wasn't just his lower leg that was causing him such grief, but his head as well as his ribs. When Brennan arrived he'd already been taken to x-ray to capture pictures. An ultrasound was performed on his chest to check for additional damage, as well. A dopey, drug induced grin was on his face when he was wheeled back into his room. She raised an eyebrow. "Booth?"

"We had to give him sedation besides administering a round of painkillers. Has he ever suffered from paranoia?" One of his nurses asked.

She was taken aback. "No. Never. Why? Did he make some sort of comment to you?"

"He was very abrasive upon first contact. It was pretty clear he wasn't willing to trust anyone, and it was only after we gave him a relaxant that he spoke freely. He came across as being overly afraid of someone."

"Afraid" ordinarily wasn't a word she ever would have associated with Booth. Wary, perhaps. But little in life ever frightened him. Is he still worried about the group making a return? "He's been through a lot in the past few months," she finally muttered when she realized a response was expected of her.

The nurse nodded. He then silently excused himself. Brennan diverted her attention to Booth. His eyes were heavy with sleep. But he still continued to grin at her. She had to chuckle. "Feeling better, Booth?"

He smacked his lips. "Mmhmm."

When all was said and done the opinion was the same across the board. Booth wasn't healing properly simply because he wasn't taking precautions to protect himself. The fall onto the floor had aggravated his ribs, but thankfully nothing had been severely re-injured. However, it was his skull fracture that most concerned his doctor. "That should have healed long before now. Has he shown any signs of a ongoing brain injury?"

"No. But he hasn't spoken much to me lately." She admitted. "He's spent a portion of his time here at the hospital with his brother."

The doctor nodded. "Keep a close eye on him. It's possible he will eventually need some type of counseling or specialist. I'm going to recommend you someone to take him to to monitor that fracture. I thought I saw evidence of it widening, but I couldn't be sure. He absolutely has to protect his head from further harm."

"I'll see to it." She promised. No longer would she retreat into the corner when he became unruly. It was time to employ tough love.

He wasn't released until he'd slept off the medications. Before Brennan set out to take him home he had one request. "I want to see Jared."

She readily agreed, seeing as she knew he hadn't been able to get to him in the past few days. He'd been given crutches to stay off his mangled ankle. Irritation with having to hobble around soon got the best of him. "This is bullshit." He grumbled. "I can walk just fine."

She narrowed her eyes at him, giving him a hard enough glare to send shivers down his spine. "Just try it," she dared in a dark voice.

He glowered.

Little had changed regarding Jared's condition. Brennan sought out his doctor while Booth limped to his brother's side. He stood over him, gracelessly balancing on the two crutches. "Sorry I haven't been here," he apologized. "I got problems, I guess. I can't really walk, and I fell at home so Bones forced me to come to the hospital. I hate this. I hate these stupid crutches." He sighed. "But they told me if I keep injuring my ankle I could compromise my career with the bureau. So I'm just gonna put up and shut up. It's only for a little while."

Jared didn't give any indication that he'd heard his big brother. Booth's heart sunk. He cleared his throat. "But I'm gonna be all right. And you will be too, understand? The next time I see you I want to see you awake. So you know, work on it."

The rest of the visit was passed in silence. Booth could only take standing for so long before he bid Jared goodbye and limped back out into the hallway. Brennan was patiently waiting for him. She shook her head sadly when he questioned her with his eyes. "There's been no change."

"That might be good though, right?" He swallowed. "I mean, obviously he isn't getting better but at least he isn't getting worse."

She nodded in agreement, but he could see the doubt in her eyes. Down in her core she didn't truly believe Jared was going to make a recovery. He started off towards the elevator with her. "Lets go."

Booth kept his thoughts to himself during the ride home. His heart was heavy with sadness; his head spinning with anxiety. Once they waltzed in through the front door he surrendered himself back onto the couch to rest. "I want to see Jared again tomorrow."

"We will." He heard her promise.

Lightly he dozed while Brennan thanked Max and took over Christine's care. Sometime later he was woken with a kiss. His eyes flickered open to find Brennan seated next to him. She rubbed his arm affectionately. "Sorry. Go back to sleep."

Sleep actually had become the furthest thing from his mind. He sat up straight and kissed her in a way that let her know his interest extended beyond the innocent. Something animalistic took hold of his senses. It'd been devastatingly long since the two had enjoyed one another intimately. There and then he needed that comfort. After all he'd been through he needed to lose himself in another being before he fully lost what was left of his fragile mind. Most days he felt as though it would take no more than one small push to drive him over the ledge into insanity. Both the physical and emotional scars were taking their toll; shredding his confidence and driving him into a madness he didn't know he was capable of. A part of him he didn't care to give much penchant to was forever paranoid that fingers of the group still existed. Never again would he be safe. His security had been breached.

Brennan of course, was unaware of any of his tortured thoughts. Her breathing had hitched, telling him she was his for the taking if he desired to do so. His adrenaline was riding too high to enable him to feel any of the pain he'd been suffering from. So he chose to take advantage of his natural high. She was clearly startled as he altered his position and purposefully forced her down onto her back. Her jeans were ripped violently from her hips. He proceeded in prying her legs apart and alternating between kissing and gently biting at the insides of her thighs.

"Booth, I don't know if…" Her protest transitioned into a quiet moan as he moved his mouth lower. He flicked his tongue over her clit with quick, roughened licking motions. Her fingers entangled in his hair, both tugging at him and pulling him tighter to her. Her cries of ecstasy were only broken apart by her heavy panting. Just as he felt her getting close he withdrew himself. She watched him through half opened lust filled eyes as he undid his own pants. "Get up." He ordered.

It was unlike him to be anything other than loving and tender when they made love. Yet despite the radical difference Brennan seemed to be eating it up. Obediently she rose to her feet. He shoved her up against the wall. His hands slid under her rear, lightly scraping her skin with his fingernails before lifting her up so her hips were level with his. In response she wrapped her arms firmly around his shoulders. Carefully she whispered in his ear, "Booth, your leg-"

Once again he gave her no opportunity to finish her thought. He thrust himself inside of her. The gasp she breathed unleashed the devil from within. While continuing to use the wall to support his effort to hold her, he forcefully repeatedly buried himself deeper and deeper inside her. He hid his face in the crook of her neck. The feel of his warm breath against her skin must have been alluring, as her occasional noises of pleasure became a long, drawn out sound. Suddenly without warning her body stiffened. Around his waist her legs clamped down. Her nails were driven deep into his back and she let out a yell unlike anything he'd ever heard from her before. It was enough to keep him going for several more thrusts before a wave of gratification near dropped him to his knees, and he released himself into her. The couple stayed entangled in one another for several minutes before he separated himself with a kiss.

"What… was that?" She eyed him as he awkwardly maneuvered himself back onto the couch. "That was… unlike anything…"

Having burned up all his energy he began trembling, his muscles having significantly weakened by his sex drive. He near collapsed just in the effort of laying himself back down on the couch. The combination of endorphins and adrenaline began to wear off, and in its place arrived unbearable pain. Inwards he folded himself in while muttering the name of a few saints.

"Booth?" She questioned, instantly at his side. "I knew I should have made you lie down."

The sound of his cell phone ringing drew their attention. Since he was in no shape to get up she left him briefly to retrieve the device. Faraway in a dream he heard her answer, but his concentration was averted elsewhere. Pain. So much pain.

The news she had for him when she returned was unexpected. Tears were in her eyes. She could barely speak. "That was the hospital. Jared died."