A/N - Okay guys, this is the first time in forever that I haven't had to apologize for the delay in updates. 2 updates in one week. I know, I'm surprised myself.

Again, this is another chapter full of Brennan's thoughts and feelings and no Brennan / Booth interaction. It will return again eventually I promise. I've told you before, that I will work everything out eventually and when I do, it will be a wonderful thing. Just be patient and hang in there for a bumpy road.

Thank you so much for all of the wonderful reviews of the last chapter. I'm so glad you guys still like reading what I write. I really do struggle with whether or not the story is still quality and it's nice to hear feedback from you guys.

As always, thanks to MickeyBoggs for the proof reading and to Stef Junkiecat for being my sounding board. You 2 are great.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please continue to let me know what you think. I appreciate any feedback I can get.

Thanks for reading.

Chapter 51

Temperance Brennan never dreamed she would wish for a night of tossing and turning but she wanted that more than anything at the present moment. Despite the large dose of narcotic pain medication and anti-inflammatory she was in tremendous pain. She hurt all over. For the first few hours of her time in the bed, she tried shifting to get comfortable but eventually gave up. Her chest hurt with any effort to draw a full breath and probably somewhere around 2 a.m. she concluded that she must have broken a pin in her ankle. It throbbed and nothing seemed to relieve the constant flow of pain through her body. The pain there was minimal, however, when compared to the pain in her chest.

She'd done her best to relax but she just couldn't. The cycles of pain ravaged her body. Somewhere around 4 a.m., after 2 additional sleepless hours had passed, she decided it was time to physically examine her ribs and determine what damage she had done. She couldn't look at her chest without moving, so she gently ran two fingers over each of her ribs along the left side of her body. She could feel the swelling and inflammation surrounding what she assumed was the point of impact. Simply touching the area with her two fingers hurt like hell. Despite the discomfort, she managed to begin at the sternum and run her fingers along the length of each rib ever so gently. She was an expert at detecting injury to bone but wasn't accustomed to doing an examination on herself.

"Damn it," she said loudly as she found a lumpy region on her 7th rib. The area was her most tender area and she knew it was fractured immediately. "At least that explains why I can't breathe," she thought to herself. She managed to feel of her 6th and 8th ribs as well and determined that they were probably cracked or fractured as well. "Perfect, just perfect," she ranted to herself. "I can't walk and now I can't breathe and I'm going to have to go to the doctor to get my stupid ankle checked again." Her exhaustion, pain, and frustration were evident in her thoughts.

Finally, at 4:30 a.m. she decided that the pain she would inflict on herself would be more appealing than lying in the bed for a moment longer, wallowing in her misery and thinking all of the depressing thoughts that seemed to cloud her mind. She hoisted herself out of the bed and made her way into her bathroom. Every movement made her wince. She wanted so much to take a deep breath to supply her now-aching head with oxygen but knew that wouldn't be a wise decision.

Throughout the night, she had paid only a small amount of attention to her injured ankle but now that she was at least partially upright, she noticed an increase in her swelling. The cast was tight and she knew she would need to pay a visit to her orthopedics' office as soon as was possible. The additional swelling only confirmed her initial hypothesis that she had broken a pin by applying her entire weight to the foot. She only hoped she'd be wrong about the diagnosis.

After slowly making her way into her bathroom, she managed to slowly position herself in front of her full-length mirror to study her rib cage. Her left side was covered in a very large, very mean bruise. She couldn't see how far it extended onto her back but if she had to estimate and the bruising was symmetrical she would say that the main portion of the bruise was approximately one foot in diameter. All of that didn't matter really. It just confirmed what she already knew and didn't help her pain.

She managed to do a sufficient job of bathing. Over the past few minutes, she seemed to be growing accustomed to forcing herself to function through the pain. As long as she moved slowly and didn't take a deep, or medium sized for that matter, breath, she didn't feel the need to double over in pain. She was thankful that she had put a decent sized stool in her shower. Getting in and out of the bathtub would be impossible at the moment. She simply put a bag over her cast and went about her routine even though she had to stop from time to time to gather her composure.

She finished bathing and when she was confident that she could move, she exited the shower, dried off, and quickly wrapped her ribs with an ace bandage. The compression seemed to provide some comfort, at least enough to brush her hair using only her right hand. She kept her left hand close to her body in attempt to provide some comfort to her burning ribs.

Clothing selection was quite simple, anything that was comfortable and large enough to cover the wrapping around her mid section. She refused to tell any of her co-workers the events of the previous night. She had gotten through much worse alone and this time would be no different. She pulled a pair of wind suit pants and sweat shirt out of the closet and gingerly pulled the articles of clothing on to her battered body.

Thankful that she only had to put on one shoe, she finished getting ready and headed out. The use of crutches only intensified her pain. Every step caused her chest to pop and feel as if at least 2 of her ribs were shifting and grinding. She knew that it was entirely possible and not just her imagination.

She stopped to catch her breath momentarily before she exited the apartment. She looked at her watch. It was 5:15 a.m., several hours before anyone else was due at the lab. It was plenty of time for her to do what she needed to do. She grabbed her car keys and considered calling a cab but opted against it. She hadn't driven in almost a month. She knew she could handle it but was slightly apprehensive. She knew an alternate route to the lab that would take her more time but would require fewer sharp turns.

Thirty agonizing minutes later, she was standing in the bone room with the door locked. She didn't need anyone interrupting her. She was exhausted but needed to know what she was dealing with. She positioned herself behind the X-Ray machine, took a quick painful breath, and snapped the button. When the machine finished buzzing she rested her head on the top of the machine and cried. She had more to do but wasn't sure that she could manage. "I think I would actually take a hospital admission so that I could get a morphine drip right now," she thought to herself.

She shook her head and then attempted to lift her leg onto the table and nearly collapsed in pain as her rib cage again shifted. She once again considered calling Booth as her body shook from the pain traveling through her thoracic region. "Temperance, you know you can't call him," she told herself. "He needs some time alone." Part of her believed what she was thinking but part of her knew it wasn't true. She just knew that she wanted something she couldn't have. She wanted Booth. She wanted him to scoop her up in his arms, carry her home, and help her get comfortable. She wanted him to be a pillow underneath her to relieve the pressure on her ribs. What she wanted, though, she wouldn't get.

She should have been used to it by now. She'd never received what she wanted, at least not since her parents left her. She'd wanted them to return but they didn't. She'd wanted to have a family but she didn't have that either. She would just have to be satisfied with what she had. She'd been alone for so long, she would just have to accept that some things don't change.

After reasoning with herself for a few more minutes she once again tried to lift her leg onto the cold, metal table. The result was the same. The pain was far too intense to move forward and, this time, the tears began to flow. She decided at that moment that she would just have to wait to find out the damage done to her ankle.

She called her chest X-Ray up on the screen and winced when she saw the damage. She was right. Her 6th and 7th ribs were broken. The fractures would have been detected by a first year grad student. They weren't minor. She couldn't get the best angle but it looked like there was a small hair-line fracture on her 8th rib as well. "Well, now at least I know I'm not going crazy and the pain is justified,' she thought. She sighed. She had to make a phone call. She could handle treating the ribs on her own but the ankle worried her. She'd been right about the ribs. She'd have to go to the doctor.

She took out her cell phone and dialed the number to Jameson's office. It was only 6:30 and she completely expected to receive an answering service. She was surprised when Jameson himself answered the phone. She thought she recognized the voice but discounted it until he identified himself when she began to explain her current situation.

The doctor let out a wince as she explained what happened and her opinion of the extent of her injuries. 'Temperance,' the kind doctor spoke in a compassionate tone. 'I need to see you here immediately. I'll be here. Will it be a problem for you to come in now?' he asked.

Beginning to speak sent a sharp stab through her chest. "Owww. . . ," she tried to without what she considered as a whine but failed. She took a small breath and actually answered. "No, that shouldn't be a problem. I will be there shortly," she explained. "I appreciate your . . . oww . . . understanding in this matter," she finished and was slightly embarrassed at the winces she knew were apparent during her speech.

Leaning on the cold, metal table for support she again pulled out her cell phone and dialed Angela. This time, the phone didn't go straight to voicemail. Instead, it rang until the voicemail finally picked up. Brennan considered leaving a message, but decided quickly that she had gotten herself into this situation and would just have to get herself out.

A small tear slipped out of the corner of her eye as she realized that she was alone. She was back to her life as a teenager. Sure, she had lots of people that she could call if she needed something but she wasn't sure that she had anyone that wanted to do things for her. That was the disappointing part. She had assumed that Booth wanted to do things for her but she now knew he did those things as a partner. He'd do them for anyone. She'd been foolish to think otherwise.

As she was about to slide her cell back into her pocket, it began to vibrate. 'Brennan, sweetie, I'll be in to work later and we can talk then. I know you're upset but you'll be fine. You always are.' Her best friend probably intended for the message to be personal and encouraging. It was anything but that. It was another indication of the change she had gone through in the past few years. Five years ago, she would have been fine. She might not have even noticed the comment by Booth and even if she did notice, would have never felt the way she felt now emotionally.

The broken-hearted anthropologist laughed she once again glanced at the words on the screen while deleting the message. Rationally, she knew she would be fine but certainly didn't feel fine at the moment. She now understood what it meant when someone said they were a wreck. Emotionally, she was drained and confused. Physically, she was exhausted and in pain. She was pretty sure that was a perfect example of a wreck.

She used her hand to brush a few stray tears from her eyes and headed out the door. She didn't want to but she knew she had to see the doctor. She wasn't going to be able to handle this pain much longer.

She stopped dead in her tracks as she realized something. She didn't have an excuse for the sudden downturn in her physical condition. She had to have an excuse. She couldn't tell everyone that she'd been a complete idiot, let her emotions get away from her, fell and broke a few ribs. She needed something better especially if she was told she wouldn't be allowed to work for the remainder of the day. Frankly, she was considering taking the day off anyway.

For a few minutes, a solution was nowhere to be found. Temperance Brennan could solve any problem though so she thought and thought some more. In her mind, she retraced her steps for the past few days and suddenly a light bulb went off. She had her answer, her new medicine.

Just the previous day, Jameson switched her anti inflammatory. He'd spent several minutes outlining the potential side effects and how the new drug was much harsher than her former one. That was it; it would work. She could just state that she reacted poorly to the new anti inflammatory and the doctor force her to rest for a few days. It was perfect. The side effects were fluid retention, headaches, chest pain, and several other convenient symptoms. It would definitely work as long as no one prodded too much. She doubted they would go to too much effort. Angela was obviously wrapped up with Hodgins and Booth would probably be working. He didn't have the real medical knowledge to question her anyway. He'd probably do his best to be an alpha male and rescue the "damsel in distress." She'd just have to remember to keep her guard up.

Satisfied that she had a plan, she continued to make her way to her car. She worked to keep her facial expressions even and winces at a minimum. If she could just get to the doctor's office she could begin to feel better.

******

Brennan left the lab by 7:00 a.m. and Cam was the first to enter about 45 minutes later. She was surprised to see the light on in the bone room. She entered and noticed that there was an active X-Ray on the screen.

Her first thoughts were ones of frustration. Her staff would never learn. They were always supposed to run things through her. She figured Brennan was the culprit. She was always working on old remains or limbo cases and never informed her supervisor of which cases she selected. She sighed and approached the screen.

"Hmmmmm," she made a simple, questioning noise. 'These X-Rays clearly have flesh remaining and we don't have a case,' she questioned. She immediately assumed that someone other than Brennan had been working in the room. It was slightly early for the anthropologist to be working. It wouldn't have been 2 months ago but since her injury she was rarely the first one in.

Cam, always the detective, hovered over the id bar in the bottom left of the screen. The message "LOGIN ID: TBrennan" appeared. That was very odd. Cam knew that Brennan never left the computer logged on. She was usually very thorough. Cam let her curiosity get the best at her and looked at the X-Ray. The label was the generic Jeffersonian ID-JD (for Jane Doe) and 102308_001. When the ID provided no legitimate information, she looked at the actual X-Ray.

"Ouch," she said aloud as she noticed two nasty rib fractures. What interested her more was that they breaks appeared very fresh and the person appeared to be alive. The lungs looked to be decently inflated and it looked as though the subject of the X-Ray was very much alive.

Cam began to worry when she realized that the frame of the subject of the X-Ray correlated very closely to that of the famed anthropologist. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed her coworker's number.

Almost immediately Brennan answered with her typical greeting of "Brennan." The wording of the greeting was typical but there was something else there; something was different.

"Morning Dr. Brennan," Cam began. "I noticed an X-Ray open in the bone room and wanted to check with you before discarding the image," she finished. She hoped that would be enough to get a full story out of Brennan.

"Damn it," Brennan thought to herself as she realized that she had failed to close down the workstation. She took a breath and immediately realized it was a mistake. "Oww," escaped her lips but she immediately began to speak, hoping that Cam wouldn't notice. "Yes, discarding the image will be fine. I appreciate that," she thought for a moment longer. "Cam," she used her boss's given name in hopes that it would help her to convey the importance of the situation. "I trust this can stay between us," her tone was pleading. "I will inform you as to whether or not I will be in to work later today, but be prepared for me to need a few days to recuperate," she said before going in to the explanation she had been prepping as she made her way to the doctor's office. "I am experiencing some side effects from the new anti-inflammatory prescription. Those side effects, coupled with my injury are making things quite uncomfortable for me at the moment."

Cam nodded even though she knew no one could see her mannerism. She really felt for her co-worker. She didn't know why Brennan would be alone when she had obviously injured herself further. If one of the partners was hurt, the other was always there. She quickly surmised that something must have happened between them but she would never go there and bring it up. They would both have to tell her in their time. "Dr. Brennan, take all the time you need and I will discard the X-Ray immediately," she hoped that would be reassurance enough. "And Dr. Brennan. . .," she went on. "Please let me know if there is anything you need."

"Thanks, Cam," was all that Brennan could say. She understood that it was quite an inconvenience to her coworkers for her to be away, especially for Cam. She appreciated the fact that she was so understanding. She had only expected understanding. She did not expect to receive compassion and an offer for assistance. At least at that moment, she knew she wasn't completely alone.