This story starts at Season 5, Episode 16 "The Parts in the Sum of the Whole" and will be AU from there. I hope you like it!


Booth walks alongside his partner, leaving the FBI building after talking with Sweets about his new book, and he feels better than he has in a long time.

Denying feelings for someone you work with every day will take its toll on a person, and Booth is tired of denying. He's the gambler, and he knew from the first time he saw Temperance Brennan that she was the one. It's time to stop denying that.

He remains close to her as she pushes the front door of the building open and steps out into the chilly fall air.

"In his book, Sweets wrote that being abandoned by my parents made me convinced that all meaningful relationships are doomed," Brennan said.

"Hey, he wrote that I got white knight syndrome because of my physically abusive, alcoholic father," Booth responds, searching every word she says for his moment.

"I hate psychology."

Suddenly, she becomes aware that Booth stops walking, becomes aware of him taking a breath. She turns towards him as he begins to speak. This is the time.

"I'm the gambler, I believe in giving this a chance," he takes a step closer to her. "Look, I want to give this a shot."

"You mean us? No, the FBI won't let us work together as a couple."

"Don't do that, that is no reason‒" he cuts himself off by leaning forward and kissing her.

For a moment, it's the most perfect kiss in the whole world. Her lips soften underneath his, and he pulls her even closer. This is everything he's wanted for years, and she is finally in his arms.

And then, it's not perfect anymore.

"No!" she pushes against his chest. "No."

"Why? Why?" He's desperate, looking into her teary eyes.

"You thought you were protecting me, but you're the one that needs protecting."

"Protecting from what?"

"From me."

Brennan takes a long, shaky breath and he waits for her to continue, feeling his heart breaking with every second she doesn't answer him.

"Booth, I can't . . .I have things that you don't know about. Things that would change the way you see me. You can't love me."

"Bones, we've been dancing around this for five years now. I know who you are. I want you anyway. We don't have to deny this anymore, let me show you how good love can feel."

Fresh tears spring to Brennan's eyes, her hands still on Booth's chest, keeping him at a distance.

"Booth, I'm sick," she whispers.

He takes a step back. "What?"

"I . . . I haven't felt good for weeks, Booth. It started not long after the opening of the Anak exhibit. I tried to ignore it, to hide it from you, but I finally made an appointment last week and-"

She takes a breath, wiping away the tears that have been falling against her will. Booth takes a step forward, holding her shoulders and resting his forehead against hers.

"Tell me," he says softly.

"It's leukemia, Booth. I have cancer."

He sucks in his breath like he's been punched in the gut. He's noticed her acting differently lately‒she's been tired, complained of headaches, seemed cold all the time‒but he thought it was just a cold. Looking at her now, though, he realizes how blind he's been. She's even paler than usual, and thin. He can see streaks of deep purple veins through her skin. She has dark circles beneath her eyes, made only more noticeable by the tears in them.

He realizes she's been watching him, and he still hasn't said anything.

"Oh, Bones," he says, pulling her into his arms. She buries her face into his chest, not caring that she's soaking his jacket in her salty tears.

She wants, so badly, to have reacted differently. To not have this burning issue in the back of her mind stopping her from pulling him close to her again and kissing him back. She didn't want to push him away, but there's no way he wants to be involved in this. He may think he wants her now, but that opinion was formed without knowing this massive secret she's been carrying for weeks. This is her burden, and she doesn't want to put it on him.

He pulls back from their hug, looking at her red, tear-soaked face with a new reverence. "Whatever you need," he promises. "I will be right here next to you. I will fight this with you."

"No, Booth," she averts her eyes from him, unsure how to react to his steadfast care for her. "This isn't your battle to fight. You never asked for this, you don't need to make this your problem, too."

"Bones," he says softly, pulling her chin back up to meet his eyes again. "You're my partner. Of course I'm going to fight this with you. Yes, I have feelings for you, and that's complicated, but we can talk about that later. Right now I want you to know that, as your partner, I am here for you."

She's crying so hard now she can hardly breathe. She didn't cry when she noticed the bruises, the fatigue, the shortness of breath, and started to put the pieces together. She didn't cry in the doctor's office when they confirmed her suspicions. She didn't cry when she got back to her apartment after her initial workup, when the blood tests showed her just how bad she had it. She remained calm and rational, pushing her emotions aside and focusing on the statistics and the facts.

But telling her partner, her best friend in the whole world? She can't hold back the tears now, not in front of him. Not after he kissed her, after he wanted a relationship with her and was now settling for being her rock through her upcoming battles.

"Come on," he says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Let me take you home."

She rests her head against his shoulder, letting him lead her down the remaining steps of the FBI building and to his car.

They had driven together this morning, but that seems so far away now. She thinks back on their lighthearted conversation as they walked together, talking about Sweet's book and their real first case. None of that feels important now, not after both their shocking confessions: his love, and her illness.

The ride to her apartment is silent, but his small actions say everything. He notices her pulling her jacket tightly around her, and turns the heat on high. He sees her sniffling in the aftermath of her tears, and hands her a napkin from the car's center console. He notices her staring out the window, disassociating from her own emotions, and he takes her hand and squeezes it.

She expects him to pull up in front of her building and drop her off at the front door, as he usually does, but he parks instead. She doesn't protest to him walking her up to her front door, his hand on the small of her back as they ride up the elevator together.

When they reach her door, she puts her key into the lock but doesn't turn it. Her instinct is to reject the emotions she feels, to push him away and spend her night alone, turning off her brain so she won't feel anything at all. But she thinks about what he said, that he's her partner. That he can set aside his feelings to care for hers now.

She takes a breath and pushes the door open, letting him in.

"Are you hungry?" Booth asks, his voice soft.

"Not really," she responds, dropping her keys on the counter. "But I should probably eat anyway." She goes to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water for herself and a beer for Booth.

"What sounds good to you? Thai food?"

"Maybe…" she sighs, needing something unhealthy and comforting. "Pizza."

He smiles, pulling out his phone to look up the number of his favorite pizza place.

Their order placed, they settle next to each other on the couch and she runs a hand through her hair. He looks over at her and realizes how tired she looks. There are streaks of makeup from crying and the sparkle she usually has in her eyes is gone.

She feels his eyes on her, and looks down self-consciously. "I need to shower," she says.

"Go," he encourages her. "I'm fine waiting here for the food. You have time to shower."

"Okay," she nods, tossing him the remote for her TV before leaving the room.

He clicks on the TV to the sports channel, mostly so she feels comfortable taking her time without worrying about him, but instead of watching the basketball game he unlocks his phone and opens to a new tab and types "leukemia in adults" into the search bar.

He's suddenly flooded with symptoms, treatment plans, diet regimens, and so much more. He clicks one link after another, reading about survival rates and chemotherapy doses. He reads and reads, so engrossed in his research that he nearly drops his phone when the doorbell rings. He's almost relieved to turn his phone off, wanting to clear his mind of what's happening to her.

He pays for the pizza and sets the box on the table. He's pulling plates out of the cabinet when he hears a noise, and turns around to see Brennan. She looks vulnerable and small to him with her wet hair and pajamas.

"Feel better?" He asks, setting the plates down on the table and taking a seat next to her.

"Yeah, thanks for waiting for the food."

He nods, and they eat in silence for a moment. He notices her staring down at her plate, completely unable to look at him.

"Bones," he breaks the silence. "What's next?"

She finally looks up, startled. "What do you mean?"

"For you, for your health. When are you starting treatments?"

"I have an appointment with an oncologist in two days to determine my treatment plan. After that...I guess I'll start chemotherapy," she shrugs, trying to make it seem nonchalant.

"I'd like to come with you," Booth says.

"No, Booth...you don't have to do that."

"I want to," he sets down his slice of pizza and looks into her eyes. "Bones, you shouldn't go to these appointments alone. You should have someone beside you." He reaches across the table and takes her hand. To his surprise, she doesn't pull away.

"Okay," she nods. "It's at 10:30 on Thursday morning. Does that work for you?"

"I'll make it work," Booth promises. "You're my partner."


A/N: Thoughts? I'm dying to know what people think! And yes, of course I will be writing more! Stay tuned.