Author's Note: First of all, thank you, as always, to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter. It's always encouraging to hear from you guys, it makes me want to post more. Now, as far as this chapter, let me start by apologizing slightly...the writing in this isn't that great in the sense that I jump back and forth in time a little bit depending on the characters I'm talking about. It shouldn't be terribly confusing...if it is, I apologize...and I know this is something that I could have fixed, but honestly I'm just tired. Oh, not proofread...I've decided that that's my new artistic signature...work in its most raw, pure form...yeah, that sounds good... :-) Okay, that pretty much it. Good news! No wildly over the top bad language in this chapter! Well, at least I don't think there is. But then again, I have been up for 20 hours and I just wrote one paper on why it's unethical to kill people for fun and another short story about a guy whose wife left him...so it's hard to know what this says. Anyway...have fun with that :-)

While Angela and Booth were having dinner, Temperance was still in her office, working on the notes that had been left by the killer, re-reading sections of Ophelia's books, and studying photos. She had been working for hours, and by this time her eyes were drooping and tired. She read the notes and looked at the images in theory only; none of what she took in was really penetrating her mind anymore. Her head felt unnaturally heavy, and all she could think was God, I want to sleep. However, every time she rested her head on her desk, closed her eyes, and began to drift off, she would see the fragmented images of death friends, shouts that it was her fault, and blood, blood, blood everywhere.

Zach stepped into her office at about 7:00, starling her out of yet another pre-dozing stupor.

"Dr. Brennan?"

Temperance jumped slightly, waking. "Zach. Yes. What can I help you with?"

He regarded her with a critical look. "I've been working on those bones like you asked, but I think I'm finished with them for the night. I wanted to know if there was anything else you wanted me to do?"

"No, nothing, Zach. You can go home. Thanks for working on those bones."

"Of course, Dr. Brennan." Zach gave her a small smile before turning slightly, preparing to head out of her office. When he turned, Temperance saw the blood dripping from the shimmering red icicle that was stuck in his back.

"Zach!"

He turned back to her and smiled, nodded, and turned once again to leave as Temperance woke with a start.

"Dr. Brennan?" Zach was standing in front of her desk, looking at her with apparent concern.

"Zach!"

"Did you call me?"

Temperance's mind ran back to the dream, and it took her a moment to confirm that what she was seeing was actually real. "No…I mean, I didn't mean to."

"Oh. Well, I'm getting ready to leave for the night."

Temperance nodded, and Zach turned to leave. Temperance cringed as he did so until she saw that there was nothing sticking from his back. "Zach?" she called before he was all the way out her door.

He turned back. "Yes?"

"I actually do have something for you, if you would be willing to work on it."

Zach stepped back into Temperance's office, awaiting her continuation.

Temperance stacked the Ophelia Stone notes. "I've been over these and over these…would you mind taking them home with you and looking over them? Maybe fresh eyes will see something that I don't."

Zach looked surprised but immeasurably pleased by the assignment. "Absolutely," he answered, gathering the papers. He couldn't help but smile slightly. She was trusting him to help solve the case!

He carefully arranged the sheets in his hands so that he wouldn't bend them.

"Thanks, Zach. I'll see you tomorrow."

He smiled. "See you tomorrow."

After Zach walked out of her office, Temperance laid her head on her desk again. I'll just sleep for a minute she thought. It won't happen this time…

After leaving her dinner with Booth, Angela sat behind the wheel of her car, aimlessly driving down the D.C. streets. She didn't really feel like going home, for the first time in weeks she actually felt awake (which might have been due to the fact that she took a nap during lunch), so she instead continued to listen to the car radio as she absentmindedly gazed at the blinking street lights and swaying headlights.

She wasn't paying a lot of attention as she drove, at least not consciously, however a short time later she found that she was half way to Hodgins' house. Her mind hesitated for a moment; if she wanted to actually go to his house, she needed to turn onto the next street. Time to grow up, Ange she whispered in her mind. She flipped on the blinker and turned.

Her car glided up to Hodgins' house a short while later. She parked and killed the lights, twisting the keys between her fingers after she pulled them out of the ignition. What was she supposed to say to him? She sighed, and pushed open the door. She walked up to the house tentatively and rang the bell. It was answered a few moments later.

"Yes?"

"Hi, is, uh, is Jack…home?"

The woman gave Angela a kind smile. "I'm sorry, but Jack is out for the evening. If you would like to give me your name, I'd be happy to tell him you stopped by. Perhaps there is number that you could leave so he could contact you?'

Angela smiled slightly. Only Hodgins would hire people and then insist that they refer to him by his first name. "No, that's alright. I'll just see him later. Thanks."

The woman smiled again and nodded, waiting to close the door until Angela was halfway back to her car. She slid back behind the wheel, the interior still warm from the drive over, and sighed again. She felt a pang of relief. She knew she had to talk to him, but the fact was she didn't know what to say. She was certain that she had never been this unsure of herself in her entire life. She put her car in reverse and pulled away.

Gas was too expensive to be wasted on her boredom, so she decided to head back home. She got there quickly, the familiarity of the drive making it seem faster that it actually was. She didn't pay attention to the other cars as she parked her own and climbed out. She headed toward her building, went inside, and then up to her apartment. Then, walking down the hall to her apartment, she saw Hodgins sitting by the door. He didn't see her right away, and she took a moment to look at him. He had a determined look on his face. His hair was mussed, and he was sitting with his knees up, his arms resting across them. He was so still, so resolute…and she smiled. She actually smiled. For a brief moment, despite the fact that her life was on the cusp of being something completely new…she felt safe. For some odd reason seeing her sitting by the door caused her mind to say see? It's going to be okay. Everything really can be okay.

"Hey, Jack, what are you…"

"I want to talk to you," he cut her off.

Momentarily surprised, she stood quietly.

"Look, I know you're scared, okay? Hell, I'm scared, but that's no reason to cut me out of all this. Now, like it or not, that's my baby, too, and I'll be damned if I'm not going to be involved just because we weren't expecting this."

"Jack…"

"No! This is not up discussion. It's just as much mine as it is yours. And…"

"I know that, Jack."

"Yeah, well, the point I'm making here is…"

"I want you to be involved, too."

Hodgins took a breath, halting his rant. "Really?"

She smiled. "Of course I do."

"But…but before…?"

"I know. I'm sorry about before. But just because I don't quite know how to handle this yet…that doesn't mean I don't want you to be a part of this." She shrugged. "You are a part of this."

Hodgins shifted his weight on his feet. "So, what does this mean?"

She reached out and took his hand. "It means we're friends. I trust you. And even though this wasn't in either of our plans…since it happened, I'm glad it happened with you. I'm glad that I know the father of my baby is a good man."

Hodgins smiled. "So…"

"So."

He nodded and looked down at their fingers, still locked together. "Have you seen a doctor yet?"

She nodded. "A few days ago."

"Did they do a sonogram?"

She nodded again, smiling.

"Can I see the picture?"

She released his hand and unlocked the door, letting them both in. Once inside she walked to her bedroom and pulled out her journal. Flipping to the center, she carefully picked up the sonogram picture and walked back to the living room. Hodgins was sitting on the couch.

She saw down beside him and he gingerly took the picture from her hands. He held it between them and they both looked at it.

"Wow," he said, his voice quiet.

She nodded. "Yeah."

They leaned back on the couch, Hodgins still looking at the blurry picture. The baby was barely discernable, but they were both captivated by the sight.

He looked at her with a soft, small smile. "That's our baby."

She nodded, as he continued to stare that the grainy peanut-shaped image. She rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes beginning to feel heavy once again. "Yeah," she said. "That's our baby."

Booth drove to the Jeffersonian after his dinner with Angela. As he suspected, Temperance's car was still there, so he parked his SUV and headed inside. He approached her door which was partially open and as about to knock softly when he caught a glimpse inside and saw that she was asleep on her desk, a slightly pained expression on her face. He felt his heart sink slightly.

He knocked softly and walked in. The noise was enough to rouse her, and she sat up fairly quickly, her motion almost looking like that of a teenager who has been caught sleeping in math class.

"Hey, Bones," he said as she registered his presence. "Burning the midnight oil?"

"Booth…I was just…resting my eyes."

"Uh-huh," he said, dropping onto her couch.

She looked at him for a moment, her brain clearing. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "I came by to see you."

She regarded him silently for a moment. She felt the tinge of awkwardness that had permeated all of their dealings sparking up again, however her current state of exhaustion effectively kept it at bay. She noted Booth's collar, which was slightly flipped up on one side from where he had removed his tie, and took in his weary expression, noting that his uneasiness was losing to tiredness as well.

"Shouldn't you leave and go get some sleep?" he asked.

She shrugged, straightening some papers on her desk. "I will, I just had a few things I wanted to finish up before I left."

He chuckled slightly, shaking his head.

She turned her attention back to him. "What?'

"Nothing," he said with a lazy, amused smile. "It's just…do you even know what time it is, Bones?"

"It's just a few things. I'll leave soon."

He shook his head, his expression slowly morphing from amused to serious and calm. "Why didn't you tell me that the case was affecting you this much?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I talked to Angela."

Temperance looked back at her desk. "It was a bad dream. That's it. Everyone has bad dreams once in while, it's a normal neurological response to daily stress, or unpleasant events."

He shook his head. "It's more than that. You're exhausted. You aren't sleeping."

"That's not true."

"Fine. Tell me the last time you sleep through an entire night without having a nightmare."

She picked up two stray pens and pushed them back into her drawer.

"What happens in the dreams, Bones?"

She glanced over at him. "What?"

"What happens? Tell me what happens."

She shook her head. "This is ridiculous. They're dreams. They aren't important."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Tell me, or…"

"Or what?"

He sighed. "Or I'm going to tell Goodman that I want you off this case."

She looked at him shocked. "What?"

"This isn't healthy. I can't let you continue in this investigation if I feel it jeopardizes your well-being. You're too valuable for that. I can't take that risk."

"You can't do that. What if more bodies are found? How will you…"

"Zach," Booth answered simply.

Temperance stared at him, aghast.

He leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head. "So, are you going to tell me? Or am I going to call Goodman tomorrow?"

"That's blackmail."

"I'm not asking for much here, Bones. Just talk to me."

She reclined back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. A long silence stretched between them.

"Ya know, being a sniper, I've had my share of bad dreams, Bones. And with the work I do now…dealing with this stuff isn't easy. And with every bad thing that happens, you always wonder, could it have been different? And with what you do? With what you have to see?" He shook his head. "It's not a sign of weakness, Bones. Not many people are strong enough to do what you do. I mean, the most pleasant thing you can find is that someone died of natural causes." He shook his head. "The way I see it, the only way to deal with it, to survive all that, is to talk to someone. To let it out. I'm not asking you to bare your soul. Just…talk to me."

She sighed, pushing up from her chair. "They're just dreams."

"What happens in them?"

She was pacing slightly. She sighed again. "People die."

He nodded. "Okay. Who dies?"

Her back was to him, and her voice was low enough that he barely caught her words. "My friends."

"How do they die?"

Her exhaustion was making her feel weak and emotional, and when she turned back to Booth she cursed the fact that she could feel tears at the backs of her eyes. "I really don't want to talk about this."

He sat silently, waiting. She sighed.

"Fine. I kill them. Okay? Happy? There it is." She turned back around and began straightening things on her bookshelf.

He was about to speak, but something in her stance stopped him. Something about the way her arms moved, the rigid line of her shoulders. He waited silently, waited for her to boil over.

She stopped straightening, resting her hands on the bookcase. Her voice was shaky. "It's always different. But everyone dies. I kill them all. Zach. Hodgins. Angela. The baby. You." She shook her head. "And all I can see is the blood, and then there are the screams, and it just won't stop…"

He was standing behind her now, and he could see the slight tremble in her body.

"I want it to stop," she whispered.

He reached out for her and turned her around, pulling her into a warm hug. He could feel her subtle shaking, and he held on tighter. She was tense at first, rigid. But then as, he held her, she began to relax. He tenderly touched her hair, felt the strands glide under his fingers, and discretely inhaled the soft scent that floated up to him from her.

Eventually they pulled back slightly into a loose embrace, and they looked each other in the eye. He rested a finger under her chin. "Thank you," he said quietly. He moved his thumb, tracing the trail of stray tear on her cheek, drying its path.

They stared at one another for a long moment. Finally, Booth leaned in and placed a quick, gentle kiss on her forehead. "You need to get some sleep. Some real sleep."

She looked down, nodding.

He raised her head so their eyes met again. "Why don't you stay at my apartment tonight? Just so I know you're okay."

"Booth…"

"Please. It'll make me feel better."

She hesitated a moment before nodding. "Alright…just let me call Angela."

"I already did. C'mon grab your stuff."

Temperance followed Booth to his building in her car and parked in a spot next to his. Once their cars were locked for the night, the two headed upstairs to Booth's apartment.

Booth unlocked the door and let them in, allowing Temperance to step in before him. "I have a tee shirt and some sweatpants if you want something to sleep in…" he offered as they dropped their keys onto a table near the door.

"Thanks," she said.

He gathered the appropriate items and then let her go into the bathroom to change. She did so quickly, immediately grateful that Booth's sweatpants had a drawstring. She stepped from the bathroom a short time later in the baggy clothes, and Booth stepped out of his bedroom to meet her.

"Okay, here you go," he said, pointing to the bed. He saw her slight hesitation and quickly added, "I'm going to sleep on the couch."

"I can't kick you out of your own bed, Booth."

"I insist. You need a good night's sleep. You aren't going to get that on a strange couch. Now, c'mon, get in, I'm tired and I want to get to bed myself."

With slight reluctance she relented and climbed in. Booth smiled and clicked off the light beside her head, leaving on a small dinosaur shaped nightlight that she assumed was Parker's. He smiled in the soft light, and quickly leaned down, giving her quick peck on the lips. "Night, Bones."

He retreated from the room then. When he was in the living room, she whispered into the darkness, "night, Booth," but it was too quiet for him to hear.

At 4:03am Temperance awoke with a violent start from yet another nightmare. She felt herself shaking from head to toe, her entire body bathed in sweat. She was panting slightly, but a soft snore from the living room informed her that she hadn't woken Booth up. She felt like she wanted to cry. She hated that she felt afraid. And yet, every time she tried to close her eyes, the images assaulted her again. Finally, she gave up. She stripped off Booth's clothes and pushed them into the basket in his bathroom, redressing in her own. She then tiptoed through the living room and scrawled a note, leaving it where her keys had been. It read:

Booth:

Decided to get an early start at work. Thanks for letting me stay over.

B

She then quickly and quietly left the apartment and headed back to the Jeffersonian, where she showered quickly and, after realizing that she didn't have a full change of clothes, changed into a new shirt. At least the pants were black, no one would probably notice. Then, with a sigh, she went back to the work on her desk.

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