A/N: Matchbox 20 is my all time favorite band and Rob Thomas's voice is to die for, but enough of that. I recommend you listen to this song because it reminds me so much of where my characters are at at this moment! I'm not sure if everyone has figured out what is wrong with Booth so I'll tell you. Booth is suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and this story is my take on this life-altering and incredibly difficult disorder. Please Enjoy!

If I fall along the way
Pick me up and dust me off
And if I get too tired to make it
Be my breath so I can walk

If I need some other love
Give me more than I can stand
And when my smile gets old and faded
Wait around I'll smile again

Shouldn't be so complicated
Just hold me and then
Just hold me again

Can you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never
Get put back together

-"Bent" Matchbox 20

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A crushing pressure forced itself on his chest, squeezing out a yelp of pain from his deflated lungs. Booth fell out of bed, the room spinning in a kaleidoscope of murky colors as he struggled across the broken glass towards the small bathroom. A slick trail of blood was smeared across the tile floor, his hands throbbing at every penetrating gash.

Demons laughing with haunting mercy flashed across the cracked the mirror, their gleaming teeth making enticing patterns on the wall where Booth rested. He couldn't hide from them anymore. He didn't have the strength to fight back and now they were hear to punish him.

The shadows floated across his body, tightening their grip on his sanity, their attempts at pulling him away from his humanity receiving no restraint. A light was flicked on and the bearers of darkness scattered into crevices of Booth's mind away from the obstructing glow of life.

"Booth!?" Brennan faltered in the doorway, a flush of panic coloring her skin. Booth hung his head, the energy draining out his eyes as he stared at his shaking, bloody hands. Lifting his dizzy view to the bright woman standing before him, Booth breathed out a begging sob, his hands reaching towards her warmth, "Help me…"

Brennan broke from her trance and floated into Booth's outstretched arms. Pulling his limp head into her lap, Brennan cradled his cold body, salty tears mingling with her loving whispers as she caressed his face. "Booth…what's wrong?"

"I don't know who I am anymore." Shuddering at the clawing agony in his head, Booth pressed his hands together, the flow of blood stubbornly resisting his attempt at halting the burning liquid. Wrapping her hands around his Brennan placed them against her chest, the thud of her heart vibrating through his body.

"Your name is Seeley Booth, you're the top FBI agent in D.C and you're my partner, friend…"

Booth sat up, his nervous glare stopping her answer. He shook his head, mumbling with unorganized control, the words spilling from his trembling lips. "Bones, I don't know who Booth is anymore! It's just a name; there is nothing behind it because there is nothing left of me! I feel like I died on that mission and what came back is a broken body with no future!" Booth returned to his feet, his hands clasping his head, the empty tears falling from his black eyes. Sighs of distress blanketed the suffering pair as Booth sat down on the edge of the bathtub, the blood returning to its mocking flow. Booth looked at Brennan's aching face, his shameful voice cracking at her emotion. "I'm not the same man Bones. How are you supposed to lo…care for someone who can't remember what it's like to live?"

Brennan slid over to Booth, her hands reaching cautiously across his chest, smoothing over the pink scars etched into his sweaty body. She gently pushed her lips to his, the taste of his pain vanishing with her sweet touch. Kissing his forehead with delicate complexity, Brennan felt him shudder with absolute calm, the shame and denial melting away. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Brennan pulled him into a soft embrace, her breath falling across his back. Closing her eyes, Brennan let her emotions voice her thoughts, "God, I love this man."

A small, silky laugh rumbled through the bathroom, turning into pure rapture as it reached Brennan's ears. "I thought you didn't believe in God?"

Pulling him tighter, Brennan soaked in his presence, his touch, his warmth. He had returned and was more alive to her than ever before. Her contented whisper flowed through Booth's soul, frightening the demons lurking in his defenseless mind. "I do now."

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A/N: Ahh, they so need each other. :) Okay, so I'm just going to come out and admit that I'm a little sketchy on where this story is going. I have an outline of where I could go with it, but since this story is being written for you I'd love to know what some of your ideas are. Keep in mind that I want to stick with the angst and romance not fluff or rainbows and puppies. I flove me some fluff but not sure it would work with this type of story. Thanks :)