A/N: Wow. The responses to Part I were just... amazing. Thank you guys so much. Here's hoping you will enjoy the rest of this story just as much :)

Part II: Dreams

Scars remind us of where we've been. They don't have to dictate where we're going.
~David Rossi (Criminal Minds)

Chapter 24- Charred Canvas

May 15th, 2011

The first thing he was aware of was that it was very bright. Weirdly so. His eyes fluttered, but immediately squeezed tightly shut again, synapses in his brain firing brightly and blinding him as spots fluttered behind his eyelids.

He would have muttered an 'ow' or at least groaned, but his vocal cords, as well as his lips, didn't appear to be functioning. He felt like he was strapped down with iron restraints. Struggling to collect his thoughts, he focused on what he could feel, as well as hear.

There was a hand clutching his. Now that he'd realized it, he also became aware of the pain associated with the grip. Nails were practically digging into his skin, and he was pretty sure his blood flow was getting cut off. He tried to move his hand, to make whatever it was let go of him, but he couldn't seem to do that either.

A light beeping sound finally registered, and he knew at once where he was. Hospital bed.

It wasn't like he wasn't used to it by now, but for once, he could remember exactly why he was here. Usually, it took longer... usually he had a hard time remembering the events that had landed him here.

Not this time, though. This time, he remembered the gunshot as if it had just happened. And he remembered the scream, too... except the scream couldn't have been real. But then, if the scream was imagined, how was the bullet real?

He pushed the thought away, trying again to unsuccessfully move any body part. All he managed to do, though, was part his eyelids again, and this time he let them adjust slowly, blinking until he could make out the mottled ceiling over his head.

His neck didn't want to cooperate when he tried to turn and see who was sitting beside him. He could tell there was someone there, both because of the vice-like grip on his hand, and because he could make out their silhouette from the corner of his eye.

It was probably Angela, though, and for a moment his emotions battled. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or horribly disappointed. He had gotten as used to Brennan's death as he could, but to have the possibility of another future dangled in front of him was agonizing. At the same time, Angela's presence meant she was safe. That was a more vague memory in his head... but he knew that she had been in some sort of danger.

Since he couldn't change the past, it was probably best to just be relieved that his living friend was still living.

She probably would have been proud of how rational that was, he thought.

"Booth?"

He closed his eyes, trying to decide if he had imagined that, too. Because it sounded distinctly like Brennan, not Angela. Maybe he'd hit his head? He recalled the time, a few years back, when he had seen people that were either dead or inaccessible to him, and had full conversations that had often been very enlightening. The fact that it had been caused by a brain tumor didn't take away his hope for it to be what was happening now, though. Not even slightly. He'd gladly take a fresh tumor if it meant talking to her whenever he wanted to.

"Booth!" her voice called again, and the grip on his hand disappeared, getting swapped out for a seize of his shoulder and a frantic shake. "Booth, can you hear me? Booth!"

He let his eyes fall open again, prepared to be disappointed, but was met with a face he'd not expected to see at all.

It was Brennan, but it was the Brennan from the woods. Not the Brennan he'd have expected of a hallucination. She looked... wounded. He never would have wished such damage upon a hallucination of her... he'd have wanted her to look just the same. Clearly, this was a guilt-inducing figment of his imagination, meant to emphasize just how badly he'd failed her by letting her go to her apartment that night to be met with a bomb.

But it was her, regardless, and he was filled at once with an overwhelming sense of joy.

"Bones?" he asked, half-expecting her to disappear. Heck, he hadn't even expected to be able to speak, but the word came out only somewhat coarsely, and she had clearly heard him, because her eyes lit up with relief.

"Oh, thank God," she whispered, burying her face in her hands for a second before pushing her hair back and reaching forward to take his hand again. She held it more lightly this time, but the pressure was a constant, like she didn't dare let go anymore than he did.

"Am I dead?" he questioned, taking in the hospital room briefly. No one else was present, and the heart monitor was beeping repetitively in the background, but that didn't mean anything.

"No," she said quickly, shaking her head back and forth as if the very notion was terrifying.

He sighed and let his head fall back. Even if this version of her blamed him, even if she hated him, he would have been happy to know that there was indeed a heaven waiting with her right there at its gates. It wasn't that he doubted heaven, it was just that... sometimes he wondered if he deserved to see her again.

"You had us all terrified, though," she was saying. "It was... it was touch and go, and then you wouldn't wake up... God, it was just like after your surgery three years ago. I was... I was so scared I wouldn't get to tell you, or well... show you, I guess, but... but you're awake now."

"Maybe," he said, tilting his head to the side.

She frowned, and then realization dawned on her face.

"Booth," she breathed out slowly, reaching her second hand towards him before hesitating and finally letting it fall back by her side self-consciously. "I'm alive," she whispered. "This... this is not a dream. I was never dead."

He was already shaking his head, but she didn't let him even begin to speak, overriding him quickly.

"I was in Witness Protection. Booth... that cabin? The one you raided? That was... that was where I was living. And... and I'm... I'm so sorry I never told you, never... never made sure you knew, but... there was so much happening, so much... he told me..." she was shaking now, fighting to control her emotions, and that was when it really sank in.

She wasn't a hallucination.

He was suddenly gripping her hand so tightly that he was probably hurting her, but he didn't care. And then he reached up his other hand, fighting with the IV line, and touched the side of her face, the one that was still smooth and pristine. Her skin felt soft and warm, and while she stiffened as though uncomfortable with the contact, a blush also rose up in her cheeks, and she diverted her gaze.

"You... you're telling me that you..?"

"I am alive," she repeated, her words firm and offering no room for argument.

"But..." he shook his head, not understanding. How was that even possible?

"I... I can't explain," she murmured at last, breaking the silence that had settled after he had trailed off in confusion. "I just... I can't. Not right now. But... but I'm so sorry. So... so unbelievably sorry. And... I know that you probably don't believe me, or you don't care, or you just... just want answers, but I don't know... I don't know how to give them, and I don't know what to even say to you... and I just..."

He gave her hand another squeeze, and she shut up instantly, her gaze meeting his. That was when it registered with him that one of her eyes was cloudy... sightless. But he didn't focus on it, shaking it off as another thing he could think about later, among the millions of others.

"You're alive?" he asked once more, and she managed a small smile and nodded. He let his head fall back on the pillow, letting that concept wash over him.

She was alive. Alive, and sitting next to him. Holding his hand.

"Where are the others?" It was a ridiculous question, one that should have had no relevance, but one that was suddenly of the utmost importance.

He needed a little more proof than just her word, when she could still just be a figment of his imagination. If he let his emotions take complete control, and it all turned out to have been concocted by his own twisted sense of imagination, he didn't think he'd ever recover from the repeated loss of her.

"Angela and the rest of the team are out in the waiting room... they all know I'm alive, now, as well."

"Bones," he started, having a hard time with just the one word. He'd barely used it at all in the past year, and it felt stranger than anything to be addressing someone with it again. The feeling left him almost giddy, and terrified him at the same time. Because he still wasn't sure if he trusted what he was seeing. "I missed you."

Her eyes welled up with tears almost instantly, something that he was both alarmed and shocked by, and she just nodded before managing to choke out, "I missed you, too."

At that moment, the door opened, and Brennan turned her head to see who it was just as he tilted his to peer past her.

Angela's hand flew up to her mouth, "Oh!" she gasped, turning and calling, "He's awake!"

At once a flock of people swept into the room, at the forefront Cam, Hodgins, and of course Angela. In the following chaos of questions and relieved sentiments, he didn't see her stand up. Didn't see her head to the door, pausing only briefly before she ducked out. In fact, no one noticed, as caught up as they were.

It was only when a flustered nurse bustled in and shooed all of them out that he realized she was gone, and shock washed over him. The nurse made no notion of seeing his distress, though, muttering to herself about hospital room capacity and noise control as she injected something into his IV line.

"You need to rest," she said firmly, patting his shoulder briskly as he started to fade out. He was gone long before the door shut again.

~BxBxBxBxBxB~

When he next became aware of his surroundings, there was no hand clutching his.

"Hey, G-man," Angela's soft voice greeted him. She was smiling warmly when he turned to meet her eyes, but he felt no sense of comfort, looking around at once for the one person he wanted to see most. "You've been out for a while... they're not taking any risks with you straining yourself. And no surprise, really," she added in a half mutter as she reached forward to push his shoulder back against the pillow. "Stop trying to get up. You're going to pull out your stitches."

He flushed, whether with anger or something else he had no idea. But he knew that he wanted out of here, and quick. It felt like the room was suffocating him.

"You know what, I'll go get Bren. Maybe that will calm you down."

"Bones?" he asked, blinking and barely hoping to believe he'd heard her correctly.

She frowned, half out of her seat, and then settled back into it and turned herself to fully face him again. "Yes, Brennan." She reached forward, squeezing his hand gently. "Do you remember?"

"She was in the woods," he said, his voice wavering with insecurity. But the moment she nodded he felt the wave of relief he'd been waiting for wash over him. He was right... none of that had been fabricated in his head.

"Brennan's alive," she ascertained for him, as if she had figured out that those were the words he needed to hear the most.

She let him process it for a long time, not speaking in the following silence, until he formulated a question.

"What were you doing, at that cabin?"

Clearly, she hadn't been expecting to be asked such a thing, because her eyes flew wide and she stammered for a moment before attempting to put together a sentence.

"Sweets came to... get me at the lab. Told me that he had something important for me to do... there was a... witness and I was going to do a sketch for them. Only, when I got there, it was actually... it was actually Brennan."

"And then... Everett and Chance showed up?"

"A while later, yes. She got this call from Cullen, saying that he thought she'd been compromised or something... I'm not really sure, she hasn't said much of anything to me or anyone else since we got the hospital. I'm not even really sure what happened in the woods after we split up."

"Cullen?" he asked, his instinctive first question overriding, for the moment, his desire to know why they had split up in the woods to begin with.

"I'm not even going to go there," Ange responded firmly, practically pursing her lips together. "You can deal with him yourself... I already ran into him once, and I doubt he'll be allowing me anywhere near his office for a while. I gave him a very large chunk of my opinion on his handling of things."

He wanted to go further into it, but a more pressing detail was bothering him. "Where's Bones right now?"

"She's been sitting by your bedside for two days... I finally convinced her to leave and at least go down to the cafeteria to get a coffee. I sent Hodgins with her, to make sure she actually took her time. She's stressed enough as it is."

"So... you're telling me that Cullen made her stay quiet about the... the fact that she was alive?"

"Partially. Booth, I can't really talk about it. It's not... it's not about me. It's something for the two of you to address. And... preferably not right away. I understand that you're probably confused. Hell, I was pretty upset myself when I found out, and the rest of the team weren't much better... but Brennan's been through more than I think she's willing to talk about at the moment. Don't push her too much."

He really didn't know what to say to that. He was still having a hard time fully comprehending that the past year hadn't been real, and he had no idea yet how he felt about that. Pain and joy seemed to be mingling on a plane that he couldn't quite attune to.

The one thing that he was aware of, though, was that suddenly, there was a future where there previously had been just a charred canvas with no hope of repair.

Hey look, no cliffhanger! As always, please let me know what you thought. Just a heads up: now I will begin posting at a slower rate. I apologize ahead of time, but it's a necessary evil.