Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews to the last chapter! Here's a sample of some of the things you guys said..."a cliffhanger that I will kill you for"; "I have an angry mob on speed dial here and I'm not afraid to push the button"; "I'll send my army of sociopathic penguins after you"; "I will hunt you down and kill you"; "you have forced me to sic my avenging furbieson you now..." yeah, so, needless to say, some of you got a little upset about that ending. :-) I'm actually just happy so many of you are into this story! Okay, about this chapter...it actually starts like a half a second before the last chapter ended. I hope you like this one. I'm pretty sure there is only going to be one more chapter after this. Oh, and if you're confused about anything that's happened, just message me and I'll do my best to explain. :-) Sorry for typos. Enjoy!


It was a strange feeling, knowing that it was over. Booth hadn't thought that it would be. After all, he knew about death. He had seen it, even caused it, and he knew the shouts of agony, the futile pleas for more time, and the strangled deals made with God for a reprieve from the inevitability of the end. Booth had seen grown men reduced to tears, fighting to survive, to extend their existence if even for a moment longer. Somehow, since he had seen it, Booth thought that he would be more prepared. He thought that when the end came for him, he would know how to feel, what to expect. He knew that he would more than likely be reduced to a quivering mass just like all the others, but somehow he felt safer with the idea that since he knew this ahead of time, perhaps the final moment wouldn't be as hard. If he knew what was coming, he could control the pain. However, now that the end had come for him, now that it was over, Booth understood: there is nothing that can prepare you for the end.

They say that your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die. This was an idea that Booth always wondered about since, theoretically, the only people who would know that this happened would be dead before they ever had the chance to tell anyone. Booth didn't see his life flash before his eyes in the eternity that stretched between the cold metal of the gun pressing to his sweaty temple and the resounding bang that followed only a moment later. What he instead saw was the future—the future he would never be a part of—as a series of snapshots. Like a slideshow, they reeled through his brain; images of Parker beside a beat up car, a newly acquired license grasped in his fingers; Parker holding a bundle of cheap flowers with sweaty palms, ringing a doorbell before embarking on his first date. He saw his son graduating from high school, and then his first day of college, and then on his wedding day. And then he saw Temperance, smiling over her shoulder, looking straight into his eyes; she was turned as if she was walking away from him. 'I don't want to die,' he thought. 'I'm not ready to leave.' And yet, as this thought rocketed through his brain, he stopped struggling. An eerie sense of calm washed over his spirit, and he felt himself let go. The bang came then, and as Booth laid still, resigned to death, the only words in his brain were, 'Abby…Temperance…Parker…I'm sorry.'


"Oh my God," Temperance whispered into the mouthpiece of the phone. "I think I've found her. I think I see Abby."

Angela listened on the other end of the line in horror and fascination. "Where?" she asked, her voice also a whisper, though in the back of her mind she realized that it didn't matter if she spoke at a normal volume. She heard the sound of air and rain moving past the mouthpiece as Temperance quickly moved down the concrete stairs.

"The old visitor's center on the Refuge, in the…" Angela heard Temperance's voice freeze. Then she heard Temperance say, in a loud stage whisper, "oh shit!" and then, as Angela's heart began to threaten leaping through her throat, she heard the horrifying sound of air roaring over the phone, then the loud bang of a gun, and then the sound of plastic hitting concrete as the phone hit the floor and went dead.


Booth's eyes were squeezed shut when he heard the blast. He noted with some interest that he didn't feel any pain; instead, he felt a cool rush of air and the wet splashing of blood on the side of his head and face. 'It doesn't hurt,' he numbly thought. 'Death doesn't hurt.'

It was then that Booth heard the sickening shout of agony. He wondered for a moment if the voice was his, but a moment later discerned that it wasn't. He opened his eyes to see the insane man from the coffeehouse crumple to the floor in pain, the gun clattering on the floor as it fell from his now bleeding hand. He landed with a heavy thud, all the while shouting in pain, clutching the fingers of his left hand around his right, which had been shot. Booth's eyes moved to the doorway then, where he saw Temperance standing, the gun still poised in her hand, aimed at the man's chest.

He thought for a moment that it was dream, that he was actually dead or in a coma and that this was just an illusion, but the shouts of his assailant as he writhed in pain seemed to real to be a mere hallucination.

The man turned his eyes to Temperance as they blazed in unholy fury. "Bitch!" he shouted, his voice choked with pain.

Booth laid motionless on the floor as the other man's blood traced lines down the side of his face. Temperance's gaze never left the murderer.

"Untie them both," she said, her voice solid and cold to the point that it frightened and chilled Booth. She kept the gun steadily leveled at the man's chest; Booth noted that her fingers didn't even shake with adrenaline.

"Kill them!" the man shouted from his position on the floor. "Their love is impure! Impurity must be destroyed!"

"Untie them. Both of them. Now." Temperance's eyes and voice were as hard as diamonds.

The man on the floor stared at her in rage, his pain forgotten even as the blood continued to come from his hand. His eyes were deranged to the point that he had and inhuman appearance, and his face was contorted into a violent snarl. "I said kill them, you whore. And then shoot yourself. You're tainted. Impure love must be destroyed."

"UNTIE THEM!" Temperance shouted. The sudden increase in volume made Abby whimper on the floor.

The crazed man threw his gaze toward the young girl, now paralyzed with fear, who lay motionless on the dirty concrete. "She must be destroyed. She is impure; she must be eradicated before her impurity festers and infects all that is good."

Temperance didn't move, still staring at him, still holding the gun steady. "Do it now," she said.

The man didn't move. And then, as Booth watched, Temperance moved the gun with a lightning quick motion, aiming it at the ground and firing. The gun was leveled back at the man's chest before the sound of the shot even had time to register in the small space. Everyone jumped at the noise; the bullet buried itself in floor, cracking it, not two inches in front of the madman's feet. "Do it now," Temperance said. When the man still didn't move, Temperance shifted the gun again so it was now aimed at the man's groin. "How far do you want to push me?" she challenged.

The man snarled, and then lunged at Tempe. Although he had at least one hundred pounds and four inches on the anthropologist, he was surprisingly quick on his feet, and Booth watched in horror as his reached Temperance and knocked her to the ground in what seemed like one step. The men fell on top of her, and they then began struggling with one another, trying to gain control of gun, Temperance fighting for survival, and the madman fighting in a blind, murderous rage.

"You're impure!" he shouted. "You're love is unclean, therefore you must be destroyed! You must die for your impurity!" the man shouted again and again.

Booth watched the sequence of events happen in a blur in front of him. He saw Temperance struggling, fighting for her life, as the deranged man did all that he could to kill her. At one point the madman seized the gun and fired a shot that grazed Temperance's leg. Booth saw her blood, but saw the bullet bury itself into the wood of nearby table. Temperance continued to fight as though she hadn't felt the pain.

Finally, it was Temperance who was able to wrap her fingers around the gun, and using all her strength, she heaved the weapon upwards, causing the handle to connect solidly with the man's temple. He fell still unconscious, and Temperance pushed him off her as she laid still for a moment, gasping for breath. Her entire body then began to shake, and she quickly rolled over and retched onto the stained floor. Then, with shaking legs, she pushed herself off the floor and moved to Booth to cut his bindings off.

"Tie him up!" she said, as she crossed the room to Abby. Booth nodded, and began binding the killer so he would be immobile. As he did so, he watched Temperance out of the corner of his eye. She careful untied Abby, whispering softly as she did so that it was okay, that it was over, and the girl shook uncontrollably in response. When Temperance had freed the girl of her bindings, the brunette threw her arms around Temperance and clung to her, sobbing in terror, her body quivering in uncontrolled fear. Temperance looked at Booth and pointed to the cell phone that was lying by the doorway. The battery had fallen out when Temperance dropped it, but it appeared to still be functional.

"Call the police," Temperance said, softly. "We're at the Refuge, the underground garage behind the old visitor's center."

Her words were spoken soothingly, and Booth nodded. Temperance gave him a tight smile, and then hugged Abby closer to her, rocking her gently in the way a mother would rock a crying baby, softly trying to calm her, quietly promising that it was all going to be okay.


It was still raining when the police arrived. The deranged killer regained consciousness when their sirens could be heard wailing in the distance, and although he struggle, he was unable to break free of the restrains Booth had tied around him. He continued to angrily proclaim that Abby, Temperance, and Booth were impure from where he lay, but his loss of blood had left him weakened, and a quick kick in the groin from Booth silenced him quickly. Booth had called Angela and Hodgins after he called the police, and they arrived at almost the same time. The police burst into the tiny room, guns drawn, and pulled the killer away, reading him his rights as he went. Booth, Temperance, and Abby, who was still hanging onto Tempe, were escorted back to the ground level then, and then were instructed to sit while they waited for the paramedics to arrive.

The rain caused some of the blood that clung to the three to thin and fall away, but the stains remained. A few minutes later, a young boy arrived at the site and ran over to Abby. He was apparently Eric, Abby's boyfriend, and apparently their fight ended when he saw her. He grabbed her and held her tightly in his arms, swearing that he would never let anything else happen to her, telling her that he loved her, and promising that he would take care of her. The police car holding the killer hadn't left yet, and seeing the man in the backseat caused the young boy to lunge toward it. The nearby officers held him back, and he clutched the shaking girl back into his arms, shooting the car a glare that would terrify a battle hardened man.

Hodgins and Angela rushed to Booth and Brennan, who were standing separately, talking to police officers about what had happened. When they had finished this, the first of the ambulances had arrived, and they were taken for preliminary evaluations by paramedics. Morning light was beginning to come, but the steady drizzle continued, coating the ground in warm water. Temperance's leg was bandaged, and she was told that she would be taken to the hospital for further evaluation, but she was allowed to sit for a moment on her own before they did so. Her injuries were not severe; taking her to the hospital was little more than a precaution.

Temperance sank down and sat on a tree stump, watching as the paramedics studied Booth. Angela was at her side a moment later.

Angela just looked at her friend, not speaking. "I almost lost him, Ange," Temperance said quietly, her voice free of obvious emotion.

"Sweetie…" was all Angela said, as she reached her hand out and softly hugged Temperance toward her. The anthropologist relaxed slightly at her touch, and the two sat in silence, watching as the paramedic shone a flashlight into Booth's eyes, and asked him questions in an effort to determine the extent of his injuries.


Abby, Temperance, and Booth were all shuttled to the hospital a short time later. Abby's injuries mostly consisted of bruises and emotional trauma, the doctors told her parents that it she would be able to leave later that day after they had had time to perform a few more routine tests. Temperance also was told that she would be able to leave soon, and while she was waiting to be discharged, Angela wandered from her side into Booth's room.

Booth gave her a small smile when she walked into the room. "Hey," she said, softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Headache," Booth murmured. "But other than that, okay."

Angela nodded. She careful sat down in the chair beside Booth's bed. "What happened?" she asked.

Booth shook his head. "I don't know. He snuck up behind me somehow, and just…knocked me out. When I woke up I was tied up in that garage. I don't even know how he moved me." Booth shook his head, and Angela continued to sit quietly, listening. "Then I tried to reason with him, and he just…he's insane. He put that gun to my head and I knew it was over."

Angela stared at Booth as he spoke, his voice calm. She wondered for a moment how he was able to talk about it so freely. He shook his head slightly, his eyes showing a slight wince as he did so. "I thought I was going to die," he said.

Angela touched his arm. "But you didn't," she said.

Booth gave her a small, but genuine, smile. "No," he said. "I didn't."

There was a moment of silence where Angela contemplated the appropriateness of her next question. "What was it like, Booth? What did you see when you thought that you were…you know."

Booth leaned back on the bed for a moment, silent. He remembered the images that had flashed through his brain in the garage. Quietly, he replied, "angels. I saw angels."


Two days later, after Temperance and Booth had been released from the hospital and had had some time to sleep, the group began packing for their trip back home. The paperwork on the case was being sent to their offices, and so they would be able to wrap up the last of the case from there.

Temperance and Booth were in the room they had been sharing, packing their things in silence. Midway through their reorganizing, Booth spoke. "Hey, Bones?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

Temperance turned to him, momentarily surprised, before giving him a small smile. "Hey, I didn't do anything you wouldn't have done for me."

Booth smiled. "I do have a question thought. When you saw that he was going to shoot me, and you decided to shoot him first, why did you aim for the gun? Why not his head, or his chest or something? Why did you pick to shoot at what was right beside my head?"

Temperance laughed. "I don't know," she said, honestly. "I guess the gun was just what I was focused on. It was the first thing I saw. I knew what he was going to do, and I knew I had to stop him, and…I guess that's just where my brain thought it was logical to aim."

Booth nodded. "Okay," he said. He stepped a bit closer to her, and took her wrist in his hand. He turned it so that he was looking at her palm, at the hand that had saved his life. Staring at it, he spoke. "I know we've had our problems, Tempe. I know I've yelled at you, and been a jerk, and falsely accused your boyfriend of murder. But you still saved me. You've always saved me." He turned his eyes to meet hers as she stared at him in confusion.

"Booth, that's not true. You're the one who's always saved…"

Booth cut her off when he placed his fingers over her lips, his other hand still holding her wrist. "No. You've always rescued me, in ways that you don't even realize. I didn't even realize it until I thought I was going to die." He dropped his gaze again, removing his hand from her lips and wrapping the fingers around her other wrist. Staring at both of her hands, he continued. "I want you to be happy, Temperance. And if you need to be with someone else to find that happiness…" he paused for a moment, swallowing. "Then I'm willing to let you go."

Temperance stared at him, frozen. His eyes returned to hers, and they stared at one another for a long moment. Then Booth raised her right hand, the hand that had allowed him to live, and kissed the palm. He then released her wrists, smiled sadly, and walked from the room.


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