"Don't pull it out, Seeley!" Camille was shouting from somewhere behind him as he crouched over Bones. She was shaking, and his hands were heavily coated in her blood, way way too much blood, as he tried to apply pressure without making things worse. He knew not to pull it out, but her own hands kept reaching toward the giant shard of glass protruding from her gut. He needed help. Where the fuck was the ambulance or one of these eggheads with a medical degree. "Who else in this fucking tin box has medical training?" He shouted to the onlookers surrounding the platform and being held at bay by security staff. They were a mixed bag of shocked, concerned, and nosy, as it always was at a crime scene. Rubberneckers. "If you're going to stand there, at least look for some more fucking help!" He shouted at them, watching as some interns scattered, hopefully on the hunt for someone with the skills they needed.

"How's Vincent?" Booth called over his shoulder because snapping at more useless squints wasn't an option. He couldn't see what they were doing on the other side of the overturned exam table. It had gone down in the chaos, and now it was obstructing his view of what was happening with the kid. "Camille? Hodgins?!" He shouted again impatiently when neither answered. His eyes fell on Angela where she stood between them, her own bloody hands shaking as she held one over her swollen abdomen and one over her mouth, sobbing silently. She shook her head rapidly at him, answering his question. Vincent didn't make it.

The kid had shoved Bones out of the way, like his damn nerd-squint-spidey senses had known before the bullet hit that glass ceiling above them. He'd shoved her out of the way, knocking her down before anyone even knew what was happening

"Vincent…" Bones was mumbling, coming in and out of consciousness as he tried to keep the completely saturated gauze pressed around her wound. "Vincent?"

"He's fine, Bones. Just stay with me ok?" Booth lied, but he needed her to stay still. Cam was suddenly on the other side of her, kneeling over her with more clean gauze like some sort of cruel joke.

He'd been shouting for more help, and here it was, only because there was nothing more Cam could do to help the kid. Her own face and hands were already covered in blood too. So fucking much blood. It was soaked through her shirt sleeves, some classy blouse that she'd probably paid a fortune for at some designer boutique. She was swiping her hands over the front of her shirt and pants, trying to clean them as best she could. Hodgins handed her a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and she haphazardly poured it over her hands before looking at him.

"Hold her." She warned him, before pouring the alcohol over Bones' wound, washing away some of the blood, so they could see the size of the wound for a brief moment before her blood rose up, obstructing their view again. Holding her hadn't been necessary. She didn't even flinch or tense like they'd expected her to. That didn't seem good.

"Booth… I'm cold. That's— that's bad." She told him like she could read his damn mind, and he shook his head, wiping the hot tears streaming down his cheeks on his shirt sleeve. He'd tried to find a clean spot, but he could feel her blood streak across his face. They looked like they were straight out of a slasher flick. "Yes, it's bad. I need to— I need to tell you—" Her lips shook with every word she spoke, and he glanced around, willing the damn paramedics they'd called to appear.

"I already know." He assured her, stroking his bloody hand over her hair. "I know, okay? I already know." He repeated, but she shook her head, opening and closing her mouth as she tried to form words.

"I need to— to tell you—"

"Seeley." Cam's voice broke, and he met her eyes, eyes that said he needed to let Bones tell him whatever it was she wanted to say because she didn't think they'd have another chance. If only she knew they'd already said all of this, already had a fleeting moment together. That fleeting moment couldn't be it for them. They hadn't even had a proper chance at it yet. They were just catching fire.

"I know, Baby. I know already." He told her again.

"I like that." She sighed from the other end of the phone, followed by a brief rustling of fabrics.

"Like what?" He asked, feeling like he was in a trance, listening to her take off her fucking panties for him.

"When you call me that." She replied almost shyly.

"What else do you like, Baby?"

"I love you too, okay?" He begged her to hear him, to know that he loved her and that she didn't need to worry about all of that right now.

"I love you." she murmured dreamily as the droplets from the shower continued running down her body in front of him. "I mean– I meant that–"

"Stop." he murmured softly, pressing his finger against her pouty lips. "Don't do that, all right?"

"I love you more than life itself. You can tell me how hot you think I am later, okay? Cause you're gonna get through this, and we can spend the rest of our lives saying all that mushy stuff." He told her, silently begging her to agree. She was a genius, if she would just agree that they would have a later, he knew they'd be fine.

"I'm dying." She whispered, inhaling sharply and causing her wound to ooze more blood. She had to go and say that, didn't she? They always knew. He'd seen it in combat. They'd say that because they knew and then they'd be fucking gone. It was like they were saying it to themselves, not whoever happened to be sitting by their side while it happened. Like they were admitting it, accepting it was the end of the line.

"No, no you're not." He told her. "You're not dying here, not today. This is not how Dr. Temperance Brennan goes down. You're gonna die an old lady in some organic hemp rocking chair on your front porch, next to me. We gotta die at the same time, see, cause you know, I— I can't live without you, so we gotta go together, all right?" he begged her. "We're gonna buy that big house, remember? And have enough babies for a hockey team, and– and build a treehouse in the yard for them."

"We'll have like five or six kids, so we can have our own hockey team." He said, smirking when she tensed.

"Will you be birthing some of them?" She asked with a scoff, and he laughed out loud.

"Ok, fine, maybe just two more. Two would be nice." He agreed.

He reminded her of their agreement, hoping she'd do the Bones thing and argue with him about the number of kids. She didn't, and he choked on his own sobs, begging her not to leave him. He didn't care that they were surrounded by their team and the lab security, and crying interns. He ignored Cam's curious and sympathetic expression and Angela's hysterical sobs. Vincent was dead. Bones was dying in his arms. He didn't give a fuck who knew that he'd been having an affair anymore.

"I want for- forty or fi-fifty years."

"I'm the gambler." Her expression morphed from confusion to denial as he watched her words dawn on her, but he kept going. "I believe in giving this chance. Look, I wanna give this a shot."

"You mean us?" She stammered. "No, the FBI won't let us work together as a couple." She tried to rationalize it.

"Don't do that." He defended, putting a stop to her back-peddling. "That is no reason—" he couldn't keep talking. He had to show her, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her to him, pressing his lips to hers.

"I want — I don't want to go, Booth." She said, her face looking more and more pale. "I can change. I— I can be op— open."

"I gotta find someone who's gonna love me in 30 years or 40 or 50."

"You're not going anywhere, okay? I don't want you to change. I love you just the way you are. We're probably gonna have 100 years. All that damn kale you eat? Are you kidding me? I'm gonna start eating that way too; we'll live forever." He tried to tease her through his own tears. "Don't leave me, okay? Please." He choked the last word out as she went completely limp in his arms, her eyes glassy and staring up at the gaping hole in the ceiling where the glass had once been.

The subdued emergency room was suddenly shaken into a state of complete chaos as Brennan was wheeled through the doors on a stretcher with paramedics actively performing all kinds of life-saving procedures. They were followed by the frantic and bloody procession of Booth, Hodgins and Angela. Cam had stayed behind to– to take care of Vincent. It was unbearable for Angela to form that thought, to remember his pale face and empty eyes. He was just a boy…

She watched as Booth argued with the medical staff who dared to hold him at bay as he'd tried to follow Bren beyond the inner doors that they'd wheeled her through.

"Booth… Come on, man." Hodgins was grabbing at their friend's arm. "Let's go get cleaned up. She's not gonna wanna see you looking like the Texas chainsaw massacre when she wakes up." he'd tried, but his words were falling on deaf ears. Booth had only one thing in mind, and that was Brennan.

Angela had never seen their friend so distraught, and his entire demeanor was reminiscent of Brennan's only a few years prior when they'd thought Booth had died.

Brennan had been stoic at first when the doctors broke the news to them that Booth had succumbed to his injuries sustained at the Checkerbox Karaoke club. She'd demanded to see the body, but was told in no uncertain terms that she was not family and the body would only be released to family. That had been the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

She'd practically melted, covered in Booth's blood as she paced and argued and screamed at the hospital staff until the FBI sent their men in black to take his body. She'd fought them as well as they wheeled the body bag past her, citing that they were bringing his body to the FBI morgue at the behest of his next of kin. She'd demanded that they let the Jeffersonian handle his body preparation, tried to convince them that that was what Booth would have wanted. She'd been a completely different person that day, losing control of all sense of her surroundings.

Angela and Hodgins had taken her home afterwards, watching as, from the backseat, she tried calling Hank and Jared Booth, even Rebecca, but none would take her calls. They'd helped her get cleaned up and changed, putting her into her bed. Angela had climbed in next to her, holding her from behind as they both sobbed, mourning the loss of their friend, but Angela knew Bren was mourning something much larger. By morning, the old Brennan had returned, stoic and compartmentalized. Somehow, Angela didn't think Booth would recover, or at least pretend to, so easily if Bren– she couldn't finish the thought.

Bren would be fine.

She watched as Booth finally let Hodgins usher him toward the men's room. "Miss? Are you ok?" a nurse asked Angela, and she realized she'd been standing in the middle of the emergency department, still covered in blood. "I believe your friend was just taken back. Would you let me help you get cleaned up?" she asked, and Angela realized for the first time that she probably looked equally as macabre as Booth and Hodgins.

"Yes, thank you." Angela agreed, allowing the nurse to show her to a bathroom. She'd handed her some threadbare towels that had probably seen better days and a set of hospital scrubs to put on. Angela held them up, wondering idly if they'd fit over her balloon belly.

She was horrified when she met her own gaze in the mirror. She was covered in both Brennan's and Vincent's blood. Even her face had streaks and smears. It seemed the only clean spots on her face were the streaks her tears had made through the carnage.

When she returned to the waiting room, Booth and Hodgins were there, sitting in some chairs in the corner. "Angel!" she heard the gravelly voice call to her and turned to find Max running toward her. "Where's Tempe?" he demanded, though he looked more panicked than anything else. The news had probably broken, though everyone had been instructed not to give any comment on the incident. Broadsky was still at large. One member of their team had been killed, another might– another was hurt.

"She's– she's back there. They haven't told us anything yet." Angela tried to explain, pointing vaguely toward the doors as Hodgins approached them, ushering them both to sit down in the area surrounding Booth.

Gradually, as news began to spread, their tiny vigel expanded. Andrew Hacker showed up with a tray of coffees and nervously shaking knee. He was still sweet on Bren, regardless of how things had ended for them. It was nice that he cared so much, though Angela felt badly that he'd been a catalyst for Booth and Brennan and nothing more. Interns arrived, claiming Dr. Saroyan had told them to go home, but they couldn't bear to sit and wait without knowing Dr. Brennan was okay. They'd just lost one of their own, a classmate, a friend… it could have been any one of them on the platform this afternoon.

Cam arrived almost three hours later. She'd changed and cleaned herself up in the lab. She told them that she'd shut down the lab and the FBI techs were processing the scene. She explained, whilst choking back her own sobs that she'd put Vincent in her morgue and had called his mother.

"Seeley!" Angela looked at the doors as the blonde bombshell barrelled into the waiting room, her rucksack hanging loosely off her shoulder. Her eyes scanned the room until she found their huddled group and she hurried over. "Thank God you're okay. I saw the news when I got off the plane" she muttered, taking the seat next to Booth that an intern graciously vacated for her.

Booth had remained in the same position, like a statue for the last several hours, and Hannah's arrival did nothing to change how he sat, hunched over with his elbows on his legs and his face buried in his hands. Angela had heard him mutter a few words here and there, and had even tried to answer him a couple of times before she realized what he'd been doing.

"Hey, babe, I'm here." Hannah told him, planting a kiss to the side of his head and stroking a hand up and down his back. He still didn't budge, but his words grew louder, as if he was trying to tell them all to shut up, to leave him alone.

"Come to his assistance, all ye saints of God. Meet Vincent, all ye angels of the Lord, receiving his soul, presenting it in the sight of God Almighty." he breathed out, his mouth barely moving.

"Seeley? Who was hurt? The news said someone was dead." Hannah asked, looking around as if trying to find out which of them was missing.

"Are you asking as a reporter?" Booth finally asked, turning his head to look at her. She blanched at him and shook her head.

"No…" she responded quietly, as if embarrassed that he would ask that. As if they all didn't remember how she'd shoved a camera in Brennan's bloody face outside the courthouse months ago.

"Vincent and Brennan." Angela supplied quietly, watching as Hannah's face grew horrified. "Brennan is— we haven't heard anything yet." she added.

"Let's just all stop talking and just… she's gonna be fine." Booth struggled to get the words out, and his actions over the last few hours had made more sense. He had to recite his prayers on a loop because saying anything else was too much for him to manage.

Caroline approached them, pulling up a chair in front of Booth and reaching for his hands. She looked more distraught than Angela had ever seen the tough-as-nails prosecutor. Angela watched in silence as Booth and Miss Julian prayed together, quietly whispering words that none of the rest of them believed in, but it seemed to bring them comfort. She watched as Andrew Hacker pulled his chair closer, covering their hands with one of his and joining in their hushed words. Angela vaguely remembered Brennan sharing that Andrew was religious. She'd joked about him being the son of a preacher man, but Brennan didn't know the song reference, and the joke had been lost on her. Booth glanced up at his boss with water-logged eyes and nodded his thanks.

"Family of Brennan?" a man in medical scrubs called from the nurses station. They all rose to their feet, but he held up his hand and approached them, urging them all to sit back down. "Which of you is the family?" he asked, his face was unreadable and Booth wanted to deck him for not just telling them what was going on.

"We all are." Angela broke in, speaking firmly and daring the man to deny this fact. "This is her father, though." she indicated at Max who looked like he might throttle the doc if he didn't get on with the news soon too.

"Uh, all right then." he agreed, looking around at the expectant eyes. "Your daughter underwent emergency surgery. We were able to locate and repair any damage. Her liver was most affected, but we were able to stop the bleeding. She'll be in some pain for a while."

"She's okay then?" Booth asked, feeling a firm squeeze from Hannah's hand. He hadn't realized she'd slipped into his until she squeezed, and he found no comfort in the touch. It felt wrong to have her there, consoling him over his lover's injury.

The doctor nodded vaguely. "She is out of the woods, but she is still considered critical. She's been moved to the ICU now, and the obstetrics attending is assessing her now." he informed them.

Booth let the words sink in. "Obstetrics? That's– that's like her, you know– her internal lady parts? Were they damaged?" he asked, stumbling awkwardly over the words, his embarrassment outweighed by his concern. His blood thrummed through his ears like a hurricane at the thought of that. She'd only just gotten to a place where she could admit that she wanted to have a family and now this? Bones would be devastated, and Broadsky would pay in spades for this.

"No, no. She was very fortunate in that respect. We'd just like her on a fetal heart monitor for the next little while–"

"Fetal?" Max asked before Booth could.

"I'm sorry. I take it you weren't aware… Yes, she and her fetus are both stable and being monitored closely." The doctor seemed nervous, like he'd done something wrong. For starters, he'd called the baby a fetus, but it was the same kind of scientific shit Bones would say. He was probably more concerned that he'd violated some sort of medical privacy act though.

"Temperance is pregnant?" Hannah asked, and Booth slowly prised his hand from her grip as that thought sank into his brain. He felt like his entire body was being flooded with all kinds of conflicted emotions. "Andrew! Congratulations." she added, smiling across at Hacker.

Hacker? Fuck, no.

Hacker's face, for what it was worth, was probably the most comical thing Booth had ever seen. "Congratulations." The doctor agreed, addressing Hacker. "Size estimate indicates that she'll be due in October, but the OB will be able to give you a more accurate estimation." The doctor continued.

October. Oh Baby…

All eyes were on the Hacker, but Booth caught Angela's gaze upon him. She knew as well as he did that that wasn't Hacker's kid Bones was carrying.

"We'll have someone bring you back to see her as soon as they're done." He told Max before taking his leave.

"You got my daughter pregnant?" Max asked, his voice low and intimidating. Hacker seemed to visibly wilt as he stuttered nonsense. "You gonna marry her?" Max asked, standing up from his seat and towering over Hacker as he shook his head, seeming pretty fucking terrified of Bones' old man finding out. Booth had wanted to knock the guy's teeth down his throat for sleeping with Bones for a while, but he'd gladly trade that in to see Max do it.

"I don't think she'd let me if I tried, sir." he replied, glancing over at Booth as if begging for help. Booth didn't blame the guy. The last Deputy Director of the FBI to piss off Max Keenan ended up gutted and burned.

Booth's gut was in a complete knot as he glanced at the woman next to him. This couldn't be it. He couldn't let everyone think that this was Hacker's baby. He definitely couldn't actually let Hacker take a clock to jaw from Max for it. If anyone deserved a Max Kennan beat down right now, it was Booth, but this– fuck this couldn't be how he told Hannah…

"I assure you, we used contraceptives…" Hacker defended, and any other time, Booth would have laughed out loud at Hodgins' sarcastic whisper about the classic jizz on her leg method of protection. He couldn't believe this was happening. Cam was scolding Hacker like he was Michelle or something, going on about how no form of birth control was 100% effective.

"I'm not ready to be a father…" Hacker was babbling like a fool and Max was telling him he didn't have a damn choice in the matter.

"You'll do right by my daughter and that baby or so help me…" Max was starting and Booth felt the anxiety boiling over.

"I'm so sorry…" he whispered to Hannah, staring into her eyes, imploring her to understand as the chaos around them continued.

"What?" she asked, furrowing her brow and shaking her head. "About what?" she asked again, though he could see the truth starting to dawn on her troubled features. "Seeley…" she spoke in a warning tone, but her voice cracked at the end of his name.

"It's mine." he murmured, drawing Cam and Hodgins' attention toward him. "It's mine. It's– It's my baby." he spoke more firmly this time, dragging the rest of the chaos from Hacker to himself. Hacker seemed visibly relieved by this, and Booth wasn't sure if it was the news that he wasn't about to be a father or the news that he'd get to live another day. "I'm the father." he said more firmly, more assuredly, closing his eyes, unable to look at Hannah yet.

"Well, that's a damn relief. Makes a lot more sense too." Max muttered, seeming to relax as he sat back down. "No offense." he added absently to Hacker, giving the man another disdainful appraising glance.

"What? It's ok for Booth to impregnate Temperance? Aren't you going to threaten his life or intimidate him?" Hacker asked incredulously. Of course not. Max knew someday Booth would be with Bones. The guy had some kind of sixth sense about this shit. He'd known even before either of them had.

"This was inevitable. I'd already come to terms with this fate." Max shrugged casually.

"Excuse me." Hannah whispered, rising from her seat next to him and walking toward the door.

"Oh, shit, he's still seeing that reporter, huh?" Max asked sarcastically as Booth followed after Hannah. The guy was never going to let him live this down, Booth realized as his own torture was revealed.

"We can still FIX this, Seeley. You have a choice!"

"She's having my kid! I'm in love with her! I have been for a long time."

Angela cleared her throat, interrupting the yelling match between Hannah and Booth in the ambulance bay. It was no wonder to her that Booth and Hannah would never work out. He had a strong sense of honor, of family. He needed roots, and Hannah Burley was a nomad. This was an inevitable eventuality. Booth and Brennan going at it like teenagers was just the catalyst to force it sooner. All the better, in Angela's opinion.

"Sorry, I'm sure this is kind of a pivotal moment in your crumbling relationship, rife with drama and infidelity, but the doctor just came and said that Brennan is stable and can have some visitors. Max suggested you and he go, Booth, but if this is more important than your gravely injured baby's mother…" she told him, her voice oozing with unnecessary sarcasm and her hand absently stroking over her own unborn child.

She knew she was probably being a little harsh, but this wasn't the time or place for a blow up. Vincent was dead and Brennan was critical. Glancing at Hannah's red, tear-streaked face she almost felt bad about interrupting their loud and public breakup. The girl could probably use something a little more cathartic than screaming in an ambulance bay, something like punching Booth, by the looks of it.

"It's fine. We're done here." Booth said, glancing back over at Hannah. He looked defeated. It was clearly not easy for him to cause so much pain to another person, especially as she was clearly begging him not to end things.

Sorry honey, but that ship has sailed.

When Booth and Max entered the room a nurse was just finishing up, tucking the blanket securely around Bones. She looked so pale and fragile, probably from the amount blood she'd lost. He could still feel it on his hands and face, even though he'd been as thorough as possible, scrubbing it off in the public bathroom.

"I hear congratulations are in order for your family." The nurse said to Max with a smile. "The baby looks healthy. We printed this off for your daughter. A keepsake." she said, handing a black and white picture of a blob to Max.

Max smiled at it before handing it over to Booth. "Congratulations, Dad." Max said as Booth stared at the image with reverence. This was the first picture of their baby, his and Bones' kid. He laughed out loud as tears welled behind his eyes. He and Bones were gonna have a kid. "Parker'll be over the damn moon about that one." He commented fondly in a way that warmed Booth.

Booth glanced up as Max's movements caught his eye. He was pulling a second chair to the opposite side of Bones' bed. Booth scrubbed his hand over his face and took his seat across from Max.

He reached for her hand, gingerly bringing it up to his mouth. "I'm so sorry, Bones." he whispered against her skin, taking comfort in the unspoken understanding he and Max had. "I love you, Baby." he continued, stroking a hand over her hair.

Booth awoke in the darkened hospital room to the sound of his phone ringing in his pocket. "Booth." he answered, glancing around the room and wondering where Max had gone. He listened as Agent Shaw told him that Leishenger worked at the port loading docks.

"Miss Montenegro was able to identify the missing card from his wallet. It's an employee access card." Shaw explained. "It hasn't been used yet since Leishenger last entered."

"Thanks Shaw." Booth replied, ending the call and giving Bones one last look. "I'll be back." he murmured as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm gonna end this shit once and for all." He promised as he made his way to the door. Broadsky clearly had plans for the access card.