Thanks to those of you who actually bothered to review to the six hundred word mess of last chapter. This one is longer, but I am afraid it is not going in the direction we want it to. Hang in there two or three more chapters and until then encourage me to keep going with this. It's still a bit short and quite a few hours late, but it's long enough and still the same day so I call it a success.

Today was the day, the day a semblance of her freedom was finally returned to her. She rode in the front seat, Booth driving beside her and Angela in the back, the three of them riding in an uncomfortable silence. She knew crutches would not be the easiest thing, her arms were still sore and using crutches demanded a constant, tiring use of her arms. They were going to be what carried her for the most part from here on out. No more being lifted from bed to wheelchair, no more being pushed around by someone whilst being helpless to do what she wanted. She would finally regain a bit of what she needed. It still wasn't the same amount of independence she was used to but it was certainly better than none.

"Here we are, Bones," Booth says as he pulls into a nearby parking spot and shuts off the car. Things had stayed filled with tension between the two of them ever since their encounter a few days ago. They both tried hard at pretending nothing had happened, but it failed miserably. "How you feeling?"

"Ready to no longer rely on you to carry me from place to place," she answers truthfully. He would understand that. She was so glad to be returning home soon, back to her own apartment with her own food and her own bed. And then soon after came work. Work was something she missed dearly. Writing was simply not working for her the past week. She had managed to type out a total of two paragraphs and it was frustrating her to no end. More so, it was frustrating her publisher who was beginning to pester her on getting a rough draft.

"You're going to have to wait just a little while longer on that one," he says as he gets out from his side and goes over to hers, lifting her gently into his arms and lowering her into the chair that Angela had set up. He takes controls and directs her towards the entrance doors of the hospital.

"You sure you don't want to spend just one more night at my place?" Angela offers yet again as the wander through the hospital corridors and wait for an elevator to arrive.

"I appreciate the offer, Ange, but really. I'll be fine," Brennan deflects for the fourth time. She was really glad to have such a great friend, but she was past ready to be on her own. She'd had more than enough of all this coddling. They walk into the waiting room and Booth sets her by an empty chair. "Over there," she tells him and he doesn't ask any questions before doing just as she asks and moving her to where she wanted to be. "Uh, thanks," she says surprised. The other two times that she had said anything about wanting to go anywhere else Angela had blatantly ignored her. It was nice to have Booth do just as she wanted without even requesting so much as an explanation.

"Sure thing, I'll be back in a minute."

Angela takes a seat next to her and Brennan's anticipation climaxes as they sit and wait. She hated this aspect of going to the doctor's. Stick her with needles, push on things and ask if it hurts, knock her out with drugs, anything was better than having to sit in a waiting room and literally do nothing but wait.

"Here's some paperwork they want you to fill out," Booth says and passes her the clipboard and pen. Perhaps there was one thing worse. "You want me to do it?" he offers as he takes in her worn down appearance. She'd had her pain meds not long before they came and he could tell she was worn out just from the process of getting here. She nodded her head and he set to work on it.

"You know, I really don't feel like changing my sheets tonight and some of your organic apples are still at the house so-"

"Stop," Brennan says, shooting her a look that could send a grown man into fear despite the fact that she was currently in a wheelchair. "I have already declined your offer several times and no matter how much you may bring it up, I am afraid that will not be changing."

"Sorry," she mutters and Brennan feels bad for a moment but gets over it quickly. She was annoyed by everything these past couple days, something that was fairly obvious, and she had made herself plenty clear more than once. Angela was pushing her zippers or something.

"Easy there," Booth whispers to her and places a hand on her knee. She doesn't know what to take from it or what it means. Before it was a reassuring touch and not it could hold so much more meaning. What was even worse was that she did not even know what she wanted to take from it. She was ready to go home and sleep though, that much she knew.

"Temperance Brennan," a nurse says and Booth wheels Brennan back, Angela staying behind and flipping through a home decorating magazine.

"How are we today, Temperance?" Her doctor asks as he enters the room with a smile on his face.

"I am fine. As for you, I cannot be expected to know considering you have yet to tell me and I very poorly read people." He gives a light chuckle and begins with a few things that would be included along with having her stitches off. She was having X-rays today as well.

"Ready to get out of this wheelchair?" he questions with a smile and begins pulling a few instruments from a sterile package.

"I've been ready since I first sat down in the thing."

"Easy," Booth says as she stumbles a bit on her way into the elevator to lead her to her apartment's floor. "Is your arm still sore?"

"Yes," she answers him simply, a bit disgruntled that he had been so persistent as to follow her up to her apartment. She just wanted to be alone.

"Can we-Could we talk about what happened?" he asks while following her to her front door, pulling her keys from his pocket and handing them to her.

"No," she replies blankly again.

"Just, let me explain myself on what happened," he asks and she stays quiet for a moment so he jumps at the chance to talk more. "I swear, I didn't mean to freak you out."

"It doesn't matter," she tells him and his eyebrows crinkle in concern as to where she was going with this. "None of it matters."

"What do you-"

"I mean that thins have changed and I don't-I don't know how they're going to get back to normal. Or if they ever can," she answers before he can even ask, suddenly desperate to just get away from him.

"Just let me talk," he begs, his hand reaching to grab hers but she pulls it away. "I thought we were working through this. What happened? Is this all because of what I did. Bones, just forget that. It doesn't matter."

"What does matter any more?" she asks him and shakes her head, trying to clear from the foggy haze of exhaustion that covered it. "I'll talk to you later," she says and turn to enter her apartment, grateful to just lay all of her weight on to her crutches.

"C'mon, Bones," he pleads her, his eyes displaying absolute begging towards her. They shone with tears, an FBI sniper trained army man crying for her, because of her. "Please, just-just listen to me."

"I can't," she denies him plainly, her own heart breaking as she spoke the words. She wanted to, so desperately wanted to, but what she said was entirely true. She couldn't. She simply couldn't. "I'm sorry, Booth, but I can't."

"Bones," he chokes out, the small word laden with absolute pain and torture. She was hurting him, and perhaps, maybe just maybe, it was the way of which he had hurt her. Was she a cruel person for having that not break her heart like it should? How despicable of a woman could she be if she was causing him to feel tremendous pain and did not even care to help, was encouraging it, causing it.

"I don't think I can forgive you, Booth," she says plainly, switching over to the real problem, the one that was ruling a lot of her thoughts ever since he had left in the first place. Her logical and clinical voice finding itself again in the process. She spoke with clarity and honesty. The emotions would not rule her, that is what caused her to be in this position in the first place.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness," he tells her in all honesty. He just wanted to talk to her and he wanted to wrap her small and fragile body in his arms and tell her how sorry he was. Booth wanted to make it right.

"I cannot trust you, Booth. Never again." It was true. She had trusted him with her life and her heart, her broken battered and tortured heart, for years, and he had broken her further. He knew. More than anyone else he knew. "You betrayed me," she whispers quietly, shutting the door in his face. Falling back against it once it was shut as her tears began to cascade down. Held back for much too long as she allows them to finally have their escape. Misery consuming her in that irrational moment, pulling her to the darkest drenches of the bottom of it. All of sudden that alone time she craved became a deep loneliness that left her broken.