Thank you so much for all of the reviews and support for this story! It took off – I didn't think it would be this many chapters. So I appreciate you all staying for the ride. Enjoy this next installment. And I apologize in advance ;-)

-Mac

Chapter 28

Dr. Brennan and Hodgins will run out of air in four seconds… we are out of time.

Bones, I would do anything for you. I would die for you, kill for you….

I need to move on.

It's so much easier getting shot at than dealing with things like this.

Right? I'm with you on that.

The FBI is terminating your partnership.

She left, Booth. She's gone.

I singlehandedly took a sledgehammer to our relationship after years of showing her that I was there and I was family and I was not going anywhere… I'm the bad guy.

That deadline comes around and my partner's still underground, I will end you.

I'm not letting you out of my sight until I figure out who is trying to kill you.

The pain you caused me… you think it was a few days of my life that I felt pain? I still have nightmares about you. I lost a piece of myself that I'll never get back… you ruined me… the way I am with people…. I told myself that to survive, I needed to just stay away from people.

You're bad with people.

A gunshot. Bones, are you okay? Bones!

Booth sat up in his bed, panting, a scream strangled in this throat. Images of her – pulling her from the ground when she'd been buried alive– how hard she fought not to let him see her cry, the last time he saw her. Everything she'd told him about her past, what she'd been through. Her tears, their hug, how she'd urgently pushed him away, put so many walls back between them. What he'd said.

What he'd said…and what it meant.

He looked at the bedside clock, his breathing still coming out fast. It was 3:29am. Friday. He was going to get to talk to Bones today. Finally. But as the week wore on, their history – all of the tension, good memories, their old connection and horrifying memories – mixed together with the raw, emotional feeling that came from their fall out. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. Bones. Her blue eyes, open, honest and hurting. He saw her smile from days gone by – how he just wanted to see her smile again. To be the person she was aiming that smile at. Like before.

He still didn't know exactly what he was going to say. But nothing would keep him from showing up and trying to at least start rebuilding what they had. Even though he'd already said the words to her, he knew he owed her an apology – if he could just have her back in his life, he'd apologize every single day. He felt like that was what he needed to do, what he wanted to do. Because no apology could ever make up for the way he'd shattered her trust and abandoned her. But more than that, she needed an explanation and he barely understood everything himself. He couldn't merge the guy he once was, who'd protected her in every way with everything he had in him with the version of him that never even noticed her, and had been able to so deeply hurt her. In his mind, the two men didn't combine into the guy in this bed, aching over everything that had happened between them. He truly believed he was the former guy. The before. That he was merely out of his mind to have ever behaved like… like that other image of himself.

But talking to Sweets had shattered that delusion. That was escapist thinking. He was trying to dismiss it all by not really owning it. And he owned it. But if he still struggled to understand why he'd changed so much in regards to his relationship with her – how could she understand it? And he knew, she needed to really understand it. If they had a chance of moving forward, she had to understand that there was a reason, a logical reason – and she had to believe his promise that it couldn't ever happen again because he'd never let it. Not after this.

Losing her completely was the wake up call he needed to understand what he wanted in his life. And all he wanted was Bones. All he wanted back was everything he'd lost.

He climbed slowly out of bed, his heart rate beginning to return to normal. He pulled on his sweatpants and turned on his bedside lamp. He grabbed the autopsy findings he had brought home and began to go through them again, with Carlisle's notes. They were meeting in a few hours and he wanted to be ready.

And after his string of dreams – some of which felt like nightmares and robbed him of breath – he knew there would be no more sleep for him tonight.

B*B*B*B*B*B*B*B*B*B*

A bad memory.

Brennan looked down at her messages from Rob, seeing the three dots appear almost instantly, while she ate her breakfast, alone at the Royal Diner. She felt like she had Rob, though – just like she'd had his company at his bistro. For once, she sent the prompt – kicking off their text therapy (because that is what it felt like… she was positive he was getting as much out of this as she was, aside from friendship) for the day.

I've already shared the worst memory with you – finding out everything Laura had said and done to Amy leading up to our almost-nuptials, getting her wasted and finding out she left with Jeremy. Finding her and... I will assume you know that's the worst memory by far. Because words can't properly explain my anger, fear and anxiety from that day and so much of the time after. Close second is the prom from hell, in which my lovesick heart was completely shattered. But you know that story, too. I feel like you and I have actually known each other forever, Temperance. We know so much of each other's stories, fears, truths…. It's really nice.

She smiled softly at that and took a sip of her coffee. It is really nice. I agree with you on that. I guess you'll have to dig deeper for another bad memory. Sorry to start the day off on bad memories. Feel free to overrule and suggest a happier train of thought.

It's all part of the history. Can't pretend these things didn't happen. Morning or not. Besides, I needed another cup of coffee, so I might as well do that while sifting through the less fun thoughts that run through my head sometimes. Mostly, though, with Amy… it's good. She makes me laugh. We have a lifetime of inside jokes and dorky memories. So the bad, fortunately, don't rule us.

That's a good thing. Brennan wasn't sure she could say the same thing at this point about Booth, but it made her wonder. For years and years, he'd been unwavering and solid – the strongest presence in her life. He'd made her laugh, pushed her, listened to her… but bad memories flooded through her, and lately those were the ones that were hard to escape. Him being shot, dying in her arms. Him with Hannah, throwing their friendship away like it had never mattered much to begin with, her leaving him to go halfway across the world, the look on his face when she'd turned him down, the pain… him going into surgery for a brain tumor, nearly dying at the hands of the gravedigger…

She shivered and sought out warm memories. Brainy Smurf, Jasper, driving to cases, talking about life, laughing, dancing… even kissing. Because on the whole, those kisses always left her feeling something inside she never understood. But in analyzing the good against the bad, she did know that the feelings were good. Warm. There was love and respect and protection in every single kiss. And that meant something.

She just didn't know what it meant anymore, when the bad memories had assaulted her like they had. When the bad memories gave her fresh, new nightmares. When losing him – in any way – had felt like losing herself. Over and over.

Her phone chirped.

Okay – College. Amy and I were barely talking because of the whole prom debacle. I came home for Christmas and had been trying to avoid seeing Amy. I was purposely not really leaving my house, visiting the lake or Margaritas – anywhere I knew she might be. I just stayed in with my family and kept avoiding running into her. And Keeley – she was still good friends with Amy, but she respected me enough to not meddle. Anyway, my pride was stubborn. All those years of friendship and I threw it out because what I imagined for us, hoped for – it didn't work out that way. I was embarrassed and I had no idea how to even talk to her anymore.

Something tightened in Brennan's stomach, listening to his story. Is that how Booth had felt? Embarrassed? Unsure of how to even keep going with her as a friend because he'd been hurt – but so had his pride? What happened? She asked Rob.

The town Christmas bonfire. I went with Keeley and my parents and sat in our usual spot in the front, near the fire. Bundled to the brink. I'd been trying to get the courage up to tell my parents about my idea for the bistro. It was a new idea at the time. I knew I'd see Amy, and I was trying not to think about it. In all honesty, I wasn't ready. I didn't want to see her. The hurt was still too fresh. And I was mad at her. I know that's unreasonable. But I was. I was mad.

Brennan read this, appreciating his honesty as he talked about something confusing. Too often, people moved forward with their feelings and didn't explain what it was they were really going through. And that felt so unfair. She struggled as it was to understand the emotions of those around her – and even her own, if she was honest. Deciphering other peoples' hurt or pain just made her feel lost. It made it impossible to be a friend or partner or anything when you had no idea what you'd ever done wrong or how your feelings left someone else feeling. Her phone chirped again.

So background: the town performs a show every Christmas by the bonfire. The kids' choir sings, the adult choir, dancers of all ages dance to Christmas carols. The bakeries provide biscuits and warm mulled cider. It's very festive. Ever since I'd known Amy, she was the lead in the dance numbers. She's an incredible dancer. When the time came for her group to perform, I had a knot in my stomach, annoyance creeping up already. But… the music started, the dancing started and she wasn't there. All those years, she'd never missed a show. It was her favorite show of the year. But she never showed. When the second dance number started that she should've been in, I asked Keeley where Amy was. After some prodding, she finally told me. Amy's grandmother was really sick, wouldn't last too much longer. I asked her why Amy hadn't said anything about it to me and Keeley told me that Amy thought I hated her. Keeley said she'd been actively avoiding me, trying not to bother me while I was home. I felt like the biggest ass. I mean, I'd never hated her – couldn't feel that way if I tried, or even if I'd wanted to. And maybe I did want to. Hate is a lot easier to live with than hurt. But knowing we'd been best friends, that she'd been hurting too and that she was off on her own dealing with something so painful – she was so close to her grandmother, that's Coco – without me even knowing was enough to stop me from making everything all about me. I left the show to find her. I need to let her know that she still had me. She still had her best friend. That night was the second time I'd ever seen her cry.

Brennan took a deep breath, staring at this message. It was strange how his love for Amy could come across in just about every word he wrote. And she doubted he knew that. But she could see it. And it was starting to break her heart.

It wasn't all bad, that night. Because we held each other up after months and months of pain and separation. We finally were together again, best friends who just needed to get our footing back. It felt possible and that part almost makes it a good memory. But seeing her missing from that show felt… it felt painful. I still hate that moment. Knowing I hadn't wanted to see her at all – and then that cold realization of why she was gone…I felt like the worst friend in the world. The way she looked at me when I'd first arrived, like she couldn't even believe I was doing the most basic act a friend could do, being there. We were shadows of who we'd been. It was awful. I definitely hold that memory as a bad one, mostly for how that night had felt.

I know what you mean. You two have a strong history though – you obviously came back stronger than ever.

We eventually did. Because when you lose someone you love, and you finally realize that that is what happened, you don't make that mistake again if you can help it. Thankfully she was forgiving. And we still managed to cause each other pain in the years after that – but I promised myself to stay in her life. No matter what. Okay… enough about me. I have a few minutes until my shift begins, so your turn! Bad memory.

Brennan took a deep breath.

I think I told you about Booth being shot.

You've mentioned it, though you get a little distant and have changed the subject before we could dive in. He took a bullet that was meant for you. Correct?

She took a deep breath. Correct. I still have these horrible nightmares about Booth dying. I remember the doctor telling me that he hadn't made it. And I didn't break down then. I didn't fall apart. But… something snapped. Inside, it all came apart. Everything that seemed to hold me together all of the time unraveled and I felt like I was no longer here. Like I'd left. Like the reason I'd had for getting up in the morning was gone. I couldn't sleep. For days, I'd just lay awake. And in the privacy of my own home, I would cry. I hated that he died for me. I knew without really thinking about it that I'd have gladly taken the bullet if it meant he would live. I mean… he had so much more to live for. He has this little boy, Parker. He's an amazing child. Smart, sweet… and he looks at his dad like he's a hero. And Booth… he is a hero. He has spent most of his adult life saving lives. He wasn't supposed to do that. He wasn't supposed to die. And especially… not for me.

Okay.. let's back up. Who shot him? Why was someone aiming a gun at you to begin with? A serial killer from one your cases?

No… it was this woman who became fixated on Booth, actually. She was obsessed. She wanted me gone because he was giving me attention at that moment. She wanted his attention and he was just… looking at me. I was singing Girls Just Want To Have Fun up on a stage at a karaoke dive bar.

Ah… beginning to understand why you booked it from the reunion during that song.

I can't hear that song. It's repeated in my nightmares until the sound of gunshots makes it a muffled buzz in the background.

I can understand that. You saw me fall apart at the reunion when Poison came on because it brought me instantly back to prom. And what I went through was nothing like this. Not comparable. But music is powerful. It can pull you back into experiences you'd much rather leave in the past.

Exactly. How did Rob always know how to connect like this with her? When she talked to him, she didn't feel like she was lost or confused or desperately trying to keep up. It never felt like he was explaining how the world worked to her either. He just… he gave her blunt honesty and between that, his questions, and his own experiences, she felt like she could understand her own life a bit more.

Well… think about it this way. Imagine if that woman had shot you? And killed you? How would Booth have felt – she would've done it because she was obsessed with him. I don't think he could've forgiven himself.

I… yes. Here's the thing about Booth. He's a good man. He'd die for any one of us – we are his team. When he was at war, he protected soldiers. He protects by nature. It's who he is. If I died while he was there, he would not have taken it well. But that's just who he is. He's always considered me a responsibility.

Well… you're not FBI. And he is. He carries a gun, has the training…

I have combat training as well. And don't get me started about carrying a gun.

I am definitely not begrudging you your badass status. Because that's been increasingly apparent since the moment I met you.

She smiled. Thank you. Though swimming in a lake illegally when you didn't, in fact, see the sign isn't a badass move.

It is when the lake is 50 degrees and you're doing what no one else would ever do. Anyway… my point is, I'm sure he did view you as his responsibility since you were his partner. Him working with you had to mean he planned to keep you safe.

True.

I think that while he'd give the shirt off his back to anyone on your team, and maybe even give his life to serve and protect, it's still different with you.

You can't know that.

I don't know Booth. I met him very briefly. And… he was kind of cranky. But the way he looked at you…

What?

I think he'd do it all over again. Willingly. I think he'd give just about anything to make sure you were okay. And you don't have to agree with that. I could be wrong. Again… don't know him. But I'm a pretty good judge of character. And I don't get the feeling he hops a plane to check on all of his friends. I don't think he looks at all of them like he's completely gutted without them. And I don't think he would give anything and everything for any of them.

She stared at his words, something stirring inside. Her realizations about Booth that led her to Camden at war with the past and now with Rob's own assessments.

But finish up the bad memory. What was the bad memory? Him being shot?

She closed her eyes. He had this look on his face. Like he was scared. He was fighting for his life and he looked like he just wanted to live. I've been through a lot. You saw a glimmer of it at the reunion when I talked to Gary. But… the worst day of my life, by far, was the day I lost him. Everything else… getting up and living my life was possible. It was doable. This nearly killed me. It split me in half. And when he came back I never told him how much it affected me. Instead I was angry. I never wanted to care about anyone that much. I've watched my parents leave and never come home, I've lived in the foster care system and been bullied and hurt. Going on was always possible. Except then. When his girlfriend said she'd rather be shot at than deal with things like my feelings for Booth – he agreed. He completely agreed. And I spiraled. For weeks, I've had a hundred other things to focus on. Meeting you guys, facing parts of my past that hurt me, losing Booth, a new case, a new partner… but those words have still managed to throw me backwards into all of it. And now that bad memory is doing its damage all over again. Making me lose him, tearing him from my life, and breaking me.

I'm sorry. I know that doesn't make it better. But I am so sorry. I wish she'd never said that. Or that he'd agreed. You said though… he broke up with her?

He did. I don't know why.

I bet I do.

What do you mean?

When are you guys talking?

Tonight. We are supposed to meet up tonight.

Well… hopefully he can shed some light on things. Because I think you're in the dark on a lot.

B*B*B*B*B*B*B*B*B*B

Brennan got out of her car at the warehouse that Sam had mentioned at 2pm sharp, her mind still buzzing from her conversation with Rob. She didn't see Sam anywhere. With Booth, they'd always driven everywhere together. He'd come pick her up, or she'd go to his office. He would have a coffee waiting for her. They'd go together.

Sam worked differently. And that was okay. She valued her independence. But… Rob's words again flooded into her consciousness. Booth, being FBI, had truly been responsible for her. He'd had a gun and had been always ready to keep her safe. Being here alone left her feeling a bit exposed – though she wasn't scared. There didn't even seem to be anyone here.

She needed to get a grip. She was able to take care of herself – she'd done that for years and managed just fine. All of her digs, field experience… she was more than capable. She took a step into the warehouse and looked around. She walked through the main level. This place was completely abandoned. No squatters, no looters. Just her, right now.

Something glimmering a few feet away caught her eye and she stooped down, putting on her latex gloves. She touched a small black box, noticing immediately that the material was the exact same as the plastic black shards she'd found in the bone fragments from their victims. This could definitely be connected.

"Brennan, hey… sorry I'm late," Sam said, walking into the warehouse. "Find anything?"

She held up the black box. "This seems to be the same material found on the victims' remains."

Sam's eyes got wide. "Put that down carefully."

She moved it in her hands, casually. "What's wrong?"

"It looks like a bomb."

She looked down at it doubtfully. "There's no timer… it's just a black box."

"We know our victims died in an explosion. But not a traditional bomb. This was rare. We know that. And what you're holding… I've seen it before. Put it down, please. Gently."

She placed it down carefully, trusting him.

Sam looked around, suspiciously. "Something isn't right here. We should go. We can come back with the bomb squad. Let's go."

"But we could still find—"

"Please. Let's go."

She stood up, something roiling in her belly suddenly. "Okay." She took a step toward Sam before hearing a click and what sounded like an alarm being set. Then, she heard a ticking…

Sam's eyes got wide and he took a step back. He grabbed his phone and looked around the room, panicked. "Don't move," he said.

She nodded, looking around urgently to see what was going on.

"You're standing on something. Do not move," he repeated, the alarm in his voice trying to make room for calm assurance.

She looked down and saw a large flat black mat. With a timer on it.