Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews to the last chapter! I honestly didn't mean to wait this long to update. Sorry about that. Okay, so this chapter...let me make a confession. When I got the idea for this story, the only moment of the entire thing that I had in my head was the Temperance/suicide moment that was in the last chapter. That was pretty much it. So, I wrote a story to go before it, and I was pretty happy, and then I published the last chapter and realize...wow...I have no idea what happens now. lol So I've been wondering how they were going to get out of this one as much as you guys. Now doesn't that confession inspire confidence? lol I was actually just tempted to write "and then she died, the end." But, I decided that you guys probably wouldn't like that...anyway...hope it isn't too horrible. Here it is...

In his time as a sniper Seeley Booth had dealt with fear and death. They had been two constants of his life. The fear came in the moments surrounding the kill. In the seconds before the shot, he had always felt as though his senses had been revved up a notch. Every detail, every ripple in the breeze, every beat of his heart, every hair on the head of his mark felt intensified. In those spare seconds before the pulling of the trigger, he would almost swear that he could hear dust settling on barrel of his weapon. After the shot was away, the realization of death came. He would always sit for a split second after the bullet had hit the mark, just watching. Just looking long enough. Long enough to see the bloodstain, long enough to see the shoulders slump, long enough to register the shock on the faces of those nearby. But he only allowed that one second for looking. After than, he was away, crouched, making his escape.

Seeley Booth was used to fear and death. They weren't pleasant things, but they were things he was used to. He always claimed that it never got any easier, and sometimes he believed himself, but more often he had to admit that with each kill he felt a little less. After his tenth kill, he realized that the moment felt far less intimate. After twenty kills, his heart rate slowed much more quickly. And after twenty-five? He wondered why fear had ever bothered him at all. Fear and death were two things he could handle. He was sure of that.

As Booth stared at Temperance in that single second that seemed to stretch for an eternity, he remembered the fear he had experience at his first kill. His blood felt cold. He couldn't tell if was able to move. Everything around him seemed devastatingly still. He was intensely aware of the fact that there was a light on beside that couch, and that the hazy whitish-yellow glow of that light was hugging the left side of Temperance's body, stroking over her cheek, absorbing into the blood underneath her legs. He saw his gun come up, saw it pointed at Temperance. He saw Temperance close her eyes, and he heard a shout. A man's voice, loud and echoing. He wouldn't realize until days later that the voice had been his.

He fired his shot a good three feet above her head. At the time, he wasn't sure why he did it. He later realized that it had been to get her attention. It worked. Her eyes flew back open, and in that second of hesitation on her part, he threw himself at her. He saw her finger move on the trigger as he came at her, the end still tightly resting on her temple. He threw his hand forward, felt the metal of the gun beneath his fingers, as he pushed it back, away from her. The gun went off, missing both of them, the bullet embedding itself in the floor.

Lost in the moment, Booth and Temperance began to struggle for the gun. He could feel a tremor in her body as he wrestled for the weapon, could see the shaking in her fingers and hands as she desperately tried to grasp the gun. Her mouth was near his ear, he could hear her breathing. Then, in a voice that was weak, almost whimpering and completely unlike Temperance, he heard her whisper, "Just let me go, Booth."

He felt the sweat on his skin. Everything was too precise. Next comes the kill. He was so used to the pattern. The kill should be coming soon. He felt his body strain. He couldn't let this happen. Not to her.

He heard sirens in the distance, and silently thanked God that his call had gone through. The moment of realization that help was on the way stilled Booth for the briefest of moments, just long enough for Temperance to yank the gun back, once again under her control. Booth moved for it, but when he saw her trying to bring it back to her head, he did the only thing he could think of. Wrenching his arm with all the forced he could, he slammed his elbow into her head. The blow landed with a painful and sickening thud, and she stopped struggling. She was unconscious. He was still for a moment, his breathing labored. Hearing the sirens grow louder, he pushed himself up and gathered her in his arms. She slumped against him, and he felt real terror. He moved to the door, kicked it open, and shouted to the cops who were getting out of their cars, "we need an ambulance, NOW!"

The next few hours were a complete blur. He was checked out by EMTs on the scene, and when he was cleared, he broke at least a dozen traffic laws getting to the hospital. He must have called the squints at some point, because they arrived at the ER shortly after he did. He was sitting in a blue plastic chair in the waiting room when they came in, there faces etched with concern. He didn't even look up when they came up to him. His hands were together, flush, as if he were praying, and resting on his forehead. His clothes were damp and sticky with blood.

Angela knelt down in front of him, her face a blend of concern and fear. "Booth…what happened? What's going on?" She tried to say it calmly, but her words were rushed, the reality of the situation threatening to creep in.

He shook his head, offering no reply.

"Where's Dr. Brennan?" Zach asked, his voice rising in pitch. Booth glanced at him. He knew the question hadn't been genuine. They all knew where Bones was. But saying it would make it too real. It would mean that this was really happening.

"They made me come out here," Booth answered. His voice was monotone.

"No, no, no, they can't do that!" Hodgins said, looking around. "Hey, hey!" he said, walking toward a nurse. "I need to go back and see Dr. Temperance Brennan, right now."

"Who are you, sir?" the nurse asked.

"Dr. Jack Hodgins."

"Are you a medical doctor, Dr. Hodgins?"

"I need to go back there now."

The nurse shook her head. "I'm sorry, sir. Please just wait. I'm sure someone will be out soon with information for you."

"No! You don't understand! I need to…"

Angela put her hands on Hodgins' arm, guiding him back toward the chairs where Booth still sat, unmoving.

"It's okay, Jack. She's going to be fine. Just…sit. She's going to be fine."

Zach sat down in a chair opposite Booth. "Where's Dr. Brennan?" he asked, though it was quieter this time, not really a question at all.

Booth just sat frozen, staring past his hands, at the floor.

"What happened, Booth?" Angela asked, her voice shaking slightly. Booth glanced at her, and for a moment he realized he was surprised. He wouldn't have guessed that she would be the one trying to keep everyone else calm.

After he stared at her for a minute, Angela rested her hand on his arm. "Booth…what happened?"

"I…I don't know. She was…and I came in, and, and…blood. And then she had the gun…"

"Booth?"

"I didn't think she would shoot at me…but she did…"

"Shoot at you?"

"And then she was just, so…and I didn't…" He rested his head back in his hands, closing his eyes.

"Booth…"

Booth took a deep breath. "This isn't really happening," he said a moment later. "This doesn't happen." And with that he felt tears begin to come out of his eyes. He made no move to wipe them, and as Angela looked at him, she felt tears fall down her own cheeks as well.

Roughly four hours later, a haggard looking doctor entered the waiting room. "Agent Booth?"

Booth stood up quickly as the man approached, the squints also coming to attention.

"Yes?"

"I'm Dr. Bines," the man said extending his hand.

Booth accepted the handshake absentmindedly. "How is she?"

"She's undergone quite a bit of trauma, but we're doing everything we can."

"What does that mean?" Booth asked, his tone less than friendly, but more than a little drained.

"She's in critical condition. We pumped her stomach, made her ingest some coal…"

"Coal?"

"It adds in the absorption of certain drugs, removes them from the system. We can't conclusively say how much her body did absorb, but it seems as though it was quite a bit."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, when she came in, she was presenting with tremors, vomiting, auditory hallucinations…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, she was unconscious when she was brought in!"

"She woke up in the ambulance. Caused quite a struggle, too."

"So, what happens now?"

"We have to wait and see. Drug cases can be especially difficult, every different person can have a different reaction to a drug or combination of drugs. I will say that I believe she has a fighting chance, though making it through tonight will be crucial. It actually also helps that she was in a physical altercation."

"How does that help?"

"The adrenaline she would have experienced would have aided her body in clearing some of the chemicals. Now we just have to wait and see if it helped her enough."

"Will she be able to remember any of this?"

"Hard to say, that it's unlikely that she will. She probably won't remember anything that happened in the hours before the drugs were introduced. The extent of what she will forget is uncertain."

"When can I see her?"

"She's not awake right now. There is some paperwork we need you to fill out, if you're able…?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you need."

"Are you any relation to Ms. Brennan?"

"Dr. Brennan. And yeah, she's my…wife."

The doctor gave him a quizzical look.

"She kept her own last name."

"And I'm her brother," Hodgins said, standing up. "Jack. This is her other brother, Zach, and her sister, Angela."

The doctor looked at Angela for a moment. "I'm adopted," Angela stated.

"Nice to meet you all," the doctor said. "Since you're all family, I'll make sure that you get to see her as soon as possible in ICU." The doctor gave the group a small smile, letting them know that he hadn't been fooled, and then turned back to Booth. "If you don't mind, I'll have a nurse bring you some paperwork for your wife."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Booth filled out the paperwork as best as he could before slumping back into the blue plastic chair beside the squints. A few minutes later, a police officer who Booth knew, walked through the door.

"Booth?" said John, the police officer. "I'm going to need to get some statements from you.

Booth nodded. They had let him leave the scene, an action which was against protocol, so he had yet to give them a statement as to what happened. The officer lead Booth to a small room down the hall.

"Okay, Booth, let's start with why you were at Ophelia Stone's home," John said.

Booth settled back in his chair. He gave the men a brief synopsis of the case, and explained the realization that Ophelia was the killer. He stated that he had forensic evidence to substantiate his claims.

"And when you arrived at the house, what did you see?"

"Temperance's…my partner's…car was in the driveway. When I went into the house, Ophelia was dead. Bones…Dr. Brennan…had multiple injuries. She seemed to be heavily drugged. She did not appear to be at all lucid. She claimed that she was going to kill herself, and she actually seem surprised when I tried to stop her. I ended up knocking her unconscious, and moments later the police arrived. I believe that the doctors can confirm that when she was admitted, she was dealing with the symptoms of an overdose."

The officers nodded, jotting notes. "Thanks, Seeley," they said. "How's she doing?"

"Don't know much yet."

John nodded. He glanced back at his notes. "Well, if you can actually prove that this woman was a serial killer, and that your partner was drugged, there's a good chance that charges won't stick."

"Are you supposed to be telling me that?"

"No," John said, flipping his notebook closed. "But you're not an average civilian." He offered Booth a smile.

"Thanks, man. How're the kids?"

"Getting bigger everyday. Scott's walking now."

Booth nodded, and the two men rose. "Give my best to Jenny, huh?"

John nodded back. "Sure. We'll pray for your partner, man."

"Thanks."

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