(The Pain in the Heart)

A/N: This is a sequel to chapter 133

I don't own Bones.

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He awoke from his sleep and stared at the ceiling. Puzzled, he thought the patterns in the tile were rather odd and they definitely didn't belong in his bedroom. Moving to sit up, he gasped in pain and fell back down on the mattress. Shocked and confused he pulled his left arm and felt tubes coming with it across his chest.

"You mustn't move about, Agent Booth. You've suffered blood loss as well at the gunshot wound." The nurse smiled grimly at her patient and wondered what his reaction would be. It didn't take long for him to respond.

"What the fuck is going on? Where am I?" His mind racing, trying to comprehend what was going on, Booth pulled on the tubes only to have his hand pulled away.

She understood his confusion and tried to be patient. "I am Nurse Peabody, but you may call me Michele. You were shot two days ago and operated on to remove the bullet. You had us worried because of your reaction to the anesthesia. You've been unconscious since you passed out at the nightclub. We moved you from the hospital last night to here . . . Now I know you have more questions, but I can't really answer them. There is an agent in the other room who will be able to answer all of your questions.

His mouth dry, he stopped her from leaving. "I'm thirsty."

With brisk efficiency, Michele poured Booth a glass of ice chips in a cup and spooned some of the chips in his mouth. "I can't give you any water at the moment. I need to make sure you aren't nauseous first."

He knew the drill but was still unhappy about it. Sucking on the ice, he felt a little better even though he wanted some water. "How come I'm not in the hospital?"

"Agent Harris will fill you in. I'll be right back." Michele walked over to the door, opened it and smiled at the agent sitting in the hallway. "He's awake."

Dreading what was about to happen, Harris walked into the room, looked at his friend and motioned for the nurse to leave. "I need to talk to Agent Booth. I'll call you back when I'm done."

Once she was gone, Harris leaned over the bed and frowned. "You look like shit."

"What the hell is going on? The nurse said I was shot, but I'm not in a hospital." Not sure if he should be angry or just afraid, Booth clenched his fists. "Who shot me and where the hell am I?"

Worried, Harris stared at his friend. "You don't remember being shot?"

"No . . . um, no. Who shot me?" Nervous, Booth glanced at the thin tubes running from his arm to bags located on a pole next to the bed then back at his friend. "Well?"

"Um, well you were at a nightclub with your partner and Pam Noonan . . . you remember her?" Harris waited for Booth to nod his head. "Well, she followed you to the club and I guess she was going to shoot Dr. Brennan, but you got in the way."

Afraid for his partner, Booth sat up again, gasped in pain, placed his hand over his right chest and fell back against his pillows. "Damn it . . . Is Bones hurt? Where is she?"

"No, she isn't hurt. You stopped the bullet meant for her." Harris shook his head. "You couldn't just pull your gun and shoot Noonan instead?"

Wary, Booth closed his eyes and moved his hand back to his side. "I don't know what you're talking about . . . Pam Noonan shot me? I knew she was crazy, but not psycho . . . Bones is okay?"

"Yeah, she's okay." Harris pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down. "You really don't know what happened?" When Booth shook his head, Harris rubbed his forehead and knew that they were in trouble. "Look, when you were shot and Deputy Director Bishop was informed, he ordered that no one be allowed in your hospital room and no one was to tell anyone about your condition. Your partner didn't like it, but she was patient and waited for news in the waiting room. Deputy Director Bishop high tailed it to Alexandria and took charge of the situation. He waited for you to come out of surgery and when your surgeon said you'd make it, he came up with an undercover plan. Remember Carlos Garcia, the terrorist you tried to capture a few years ago?"

"Yeah . . . what about him?" Booth was sure he knew where this was going and he didn't like it one bit.

Clearing his throat, Harris stood up and leaned closer. "Interpol informed the FBI three weeks ago that Garcia was in this country. It looks like he entered under an assumed name using a false passport. Someone ratted him out. The Director has wanted that guy since he killed those three FBI agents and the four Marines. That was some sorry ass business . . . When you were shot, the Director was informed and he remembered that you were involved in the man-hunt for Garcia the last time he was in this country. You shot him, but he got away . . . I guess you remember that he said he'd attend your funeral?"

Booth nodded his head.

"Okay, well you're officially dead." He saw Booth stiffen and he knew that a hurricane was forming. "Per the Director's orders, Deputy Director Bishop announced you'd died to the press yesterday and we moved you to this safe house last night."

"No way . . . no fucking way. What about my son? What about my grandfather?" Booth was furious. "Are you telling me that you've let my son believe that I'm dead? He's just a little boy. My grandfather is old and you think it's okay to tell him that I'm dead. This is bullshit." Booth was just warming up. "You give me a phone. I have to call Parker and Pops. Give me your phone Harris!"

Clasping Booth's arm, Harris kept his voice calm and even. "We're not cruel, Booth. Before Bishop announced your death, he called Rebecca and your grandfather to let them know it's not true and that you're alright . . . Shit, Booth. Come on, we made sure your family knew, okay?"

Feeling trapped in a nightmare, Booth glared at his friend. "And Jared and Cam? How about Caroline and my partner, Bones. Did you tell them I'm okay?"

Prepared, Harris shook his head. 'Look, so far just Rebecca and Hank have been told. We need a list of people you want informed that you're alive, but Bishop says it has to be a very small list. The point of this whole thing is to catch a murdering terrorist."

Barely calmer, Booth tried to control his anger. He knew that his friend was not the cause of his rage. "Jared, Temperance Brennan, Cam and Caroline."

"That list is too long, Booth." Harris noticed Booth start to sit up and pushed him down. "Jared can be added to the list and so can your partner, but that's it. The other's will figure it out when you show up alive . . . Booth we're this close to catching Garcia. It's just two weeks and you'll be back home. Be a team player."

"I am a team player, but this is bullshit." Booth exhaled deeply. "As long as my son, my grandfather, Bones and Jared are told then I'll go along with this. Just make sure you explain to them all including Dr. Brennan what is going on and why. You make sure they understand why this is happening."

Harris shook his head. "I'm not the one that is going to handle the list. Someone else is going to take care of that. I'm here to protect you and to make sure you behave. You have ten days to recover from your wound. That's when we're going to have your funeral . . . Can you remember being shot now?"

"No." Booth didn't like that. "Maybe it'll come back to me . . . You're sure Bones is okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine." Harris sat back down. "When Noonan shot you, Dr. Brennan grabbed your gun and shot Noonan. Noonan is dead . . . I didn't know that Dr. Brennan was that good of a shot. She shot Noonan in the throat."

Surprised, Booth shook his head. "She isn't that good of a shot. She's fair, but . . . it doesn't matter. When push comes to shove, she hit her mark and that's all that matters . . . Was anyone else hurt besides Noonan?"

"Nope." Harris leaned back against his chair. "I know you don't like this, but just relax and let us handle everything. In two weeks, you can go to the funeral, help catch Garcia and then resume your life. It's not going to be that bad . . . you'll see. We have everything covered."

Hesitating, Booth finally closed his eyes and tried to relax. "Next time, ask me if I want to be part of something like this." Feeling drained, Booth tried to rest. "Tell whoever tells Bones that I'm alive that I didn't have a say in this shit. Make sure she knows this wasn't my idea."

"Will do." Relieved that Booth was calmer, Harris stared at his injured friend and hoped that this plan worked. He knew that Booth wouldn't hesitate to refuse anymore undercover assignments if it meant worrying his family.

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Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.

A/N: Since we know what happened at the funeral and afterward, I won't be adding to this little arc.