Booth was downstairs in the basement, sitting in his wheelchair and staring up at Martin. His arm muscles were screaming from the grueling workout he had just done with a pair of five-pound weights, so his physical therapist was giving him a few minutes to breathe and relax before they moved onto the next part of his workout, the stationary bike. He exhaled and then blinked, clearing his throat and swallowing. "Martin?" His speech was continuing to improve. For the past three days, his voice had grown louder and less raspy and his speech flowed more smoothly.

Martin looked up from the notepad he was writing in and smiled at his client. "Yes? Are you ready?" He asked, in his slight southern drawl.

"Yeah, but I was just wondering, uh, could you help me up?"

Martin gave him a skeptical look, but nodded. "Sure." He set the notebook down on the cushioned workout bench and stepped closer to Booth. He hooked his arms around Booth's torso, one foot in front of the other for leverage and balance, and pulled Booth up. "Tryin' to impress your girl?" He asked with a laugh.

"Let go."

Martin's smile faded. "Booth, I don't think—."

"Let go, Martin."

Martin nodded and slowly removed his arms from around his client, taking a step back.

Booth let out a breath and smiled to himself. His body ached and it took all of his energy just to keep himself upright, but he was standing, without any help. After the five-second mark, he decided to push his luck a little. He reached out and grabbed onto one of the even bars, gripping it until his knuckles turned white. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. He looked straight ahead and lifted his right foot off the ground. As he went to set it down slightly ahead of his other foot, his left leg twitched under the strain of holding up his entire weight. His upper body strength had improved greatly, but it wasn't enough to keep him balanced or hold him up when his left leg finally gave out. His hand slipped from the bar, and when he hit the floor, he bit back a scream and closed his eyes.

Martin was at his side in a second. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay, Bozo," Booth snapped.

"What hurts?"

"My knee. I think I—I think I twisted it."

Martin nodded and went to examine Booth's left knee. He touched it lightly and Booth yelped.

"Don't touch it."

Martin rolled Booth onto his back and carefully extended the leg. He looked at both of Booth's knees and observed that his left was already beginning to swell. "I'm going to help you back into your wheelchair."

Booth nodded, trying not to show how much pain he was in. He breathed in and out and balled his right hand into a fist. He attempted to think about something other than the burning and throbbing, but it was proving to be a difficult task.

It took some time and a lot of effort, but Martin managed to get Booth back into his chair. "I think we're done for today."

"Ya think?" Booth closed his eyes tight and leaned back in the chair. He cursed himself for trying to push himself past his limits. He powered up his chair and followed Martin out back and up the ramp.

Brennan was sitting at the island counter with her laptop close by. She was planning on doing some work later, but at the moment she was feeding Ryder his lunch. She turned at the sound of the doors opening and the smile that had been on her face, morphed into a slight frown. She looked at her watch to make sure she hadn't lost track of too much time and then turned back to the two men entering the kitchen. "Are you done already, Booth? I thought your session was two hours today. It's only been forty-five minutes." Then she noticed the paleness of his face and the way he sort of grimaced when he shifted on the chair. "What happened?"

Martin walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed an icepack from the freezer. "He got a little overzealous and sprained his knee. He'll be fine. I'll take him to the ER and have a doctor check him out anyway, though, as a precaution."

"What do you mean overzealous? What happened?"

Booth sighed.

Realizing Booth wasn't going to answer, Martin went ahead and did. "I helped him stand up and then he tried to take a step forwards. As he was doing so, his left leg gave out and he fell, injuring himself in the process."

Brennan blinked. She couldn't really fault Booth for trying to walk, even though they both knew he wasn't ready just yet. If she were in his position, she'd do the same thing. She'd see how much she could handle and then push a little farther. He had a goal and he was determined to reach it.

Booth was almost afraid to look at Brennan. When he finally glanced at her, he was surprised to see she wasn't looking at him with disappointment, both from the fact that he had failed to take a step and the fact that he had hurt himself trying to do something he knew he couldn't. Instead, he only saw a look of concern flash in her eyes. "I'm fine, Bones." He winced, swallowing hard. Truth was that his knee was killing him, the pain fluctuating between a dull ache and sharp stab.

"I can take him, Martin." She gave Ryder the last of his lunch and then wiped the baby's mouth off. She cleaned up and lifted him up out of the highchair, setting him on her hip. "You're free to go."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan. I should have tried harder to stop him."

She shook her head. "Perhaps, but Booth can be quite stubborn. You're not fired."

Martin exhaled. "I'll call tomorrow and see how you're feeling." With that, he waved and left.

She turned to Booth. "I'll be right back and then we can go to the hospital." She smiled at him, shuttering sympathetically as he winced, and walked out of the kitchen.

Brennan was sitting on an uncomfortable chair in the waiting room, pushing the stroller back and forth with her foot as Ryder napped. She let out a breath and glanced at her watch for the seventh time in less than fifteen minutes. Finally, the doors opened and Booth made his way over to her. "Well?" She asked, quietly, not wanting to wake up their son.

"I don't need surgery." Booth sighed.

She smiled, relieved. "That's good," she said, but then raised an eyebrow. "I'm confused. Yours words say good, but your tone and facial expression say bad."

He shrugged. "It's good, great, I'm happy."

"Again, your words and tone of voice are contradictory." She paused. "Is there something your doctor told you that you're not telling me?"

He shook his head. "Just not happy about the setback, is all. I was making progress, you know?"

"Oh."

"Don't say it, Bones. I know it's my own fault; I'm an idiot."

"You made an unwise decision, but you're not an idiot, Booth." She stood up and turned the stroller around. "Are you ready to go?"

He nodded. "I need a brace, but I guess I can have Dana take me."

"Nonsense, we're already out. It would be more logical to stop at the store now."

"But RJ—and you probably have stuff to do, Bones."

She shook her head. "I have no afternoon plans and RJ is a heavy sleeper."

He sighed. "Fine."

"How's the pain?"

"Better. The doc gave me something."

"When we get home, do you maybe want to discuss some of the things Angela and I are planning for RJ's party? I want your input."

He smiled. "I'd like that."

She smiled back at him, their eyes locked on each other. She stepped closer to him and leaned over, giving him a quick kiss on the lips, aware that they were in public.

He sucked in a breath as her knee touched his. "Ow!"

She practically jumped away. "I'm so sorry, Booth."

"It's fine, Bones. It was an accident."

She sighed. "Let's go." She turned toward the exit, but he grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. She looked down at him and smiled. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I'm fine." He let go and led the way out of the hospital.

Booth and Brennan were in his bedroom, sitting up in bed, no space between them. He had his leg propped up on pillows, an icepack draped over his knee. She had her computer open and had it angled towards him, so he could see the screen.

Ryder, up from his nap, was sitting on his dad's lap, chewing on one of his rubber blocks. He was leaning back into the crook of his dad's arm and playing with his feet with his free hand.

Booth kissed the top of his son's head and craned his neck to see Brennan's computer screen. "What's that?"

"Angela said there needed to be some activity for the guests and I thought this would be something you and Parker could build together. It wouldn't be very difficult and it wouldn't take you two very long, though. Once the guests have stamped their handprints and the paint dries, we can put the plane on RJ's bookshelf, as a sort of keepsake from the party."

He just gave her a blank stare.

"Never mind. It's a silly idea."

"No. It's great, Bones. Parker would love it."

She smiled and then scrolled down the page. She stopped suddenly and looked at him. "I feel foolish planning such an outlandish party for our son. He won't remember any of this."

"It's fun, though."

"Not particularly, no."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are."

"No."

"Yes."

She shook her head. "I am not lying, Booth." Despite the conviction in her voice, she was unable to keep a smile from gracing her lips.

"Ha. You're smiling. You're having fun. Just admit it."

"I certainly will not admit to something that is not true."

"Give it up, Bones. It's okay. It's nothing to be ashamed of. First birthdays are a big deal."

She ignored him and went back to her computer. "Maybe I am having a little fun," she muttered.

"What was that, Bones? I couldn't hear you."

"I said, maybe I am having a little fun," she said, rising her voice just slightly.

"One more time, Bones. I didn't catch that."

She looked at him and pouted. "You're teasing me."

He smiled. "Maybe."

She slapped his arm. "Booth."

"Ow."

Ryder stopped gnawing on the edge of his block and looked between his parents, furrowing his brows. He dropped the toy suddenly and his bottom lip started to quiver. Tears welled up in his eyes and he started to cry.

Booth gently rubbed his son's back and placed a kiss on his damp cheek. "Shhh, Little Guy. What happened? Shhh. It's okay, RJ."

Ryder sniffled and soon quieted down.

Booth smiled. "That's it, Bub. You're okay. Shhh." He continued to rub circles on the infant's back as Ryder's breathing returned to normal. He wiped away the remaining tears with the pad of his thumb and kissed him. "All better, huh?"

Ryder turned his head and his face lit up when he saw his Dad smile at him.

"There's my happy baby boy. What happened, Little Man? Did we scare you? I was just teasing your mom. She knows I was just joking. We weren't fighting for real." Booth kissed the baby again and then turned to Brennan, offering her a smile.

She leaned over and pressed her lips against his quickly.

"See?"

Ryder laughed and kicked his legs up and down.

"No more tears, okay? Just smiles." Booth glanced at Brennan. "What else you got to show me?"

"There is plenty more. Angela, with my input, of course, planned everything from the menu down to the party favors. I want to know your opinion and if you have any more ideas."

He nodded. "Sure thing."

They spent the next half hour discussing the details of the upcoming party, which effectively distracted Booth from his injured knee as well as his injured spirit. It made him realize just how grateful he was to be alive and able to be here for his son's first birthday.