Rating: PG

Pairing: BB

Author's Note: This is a sort of a filler/background chapter. It came out differently than how I wanted it too but if I keep picking at it I know I won't like it in the end so this is the result. Let me know what you guys think, alright? Thanks again to all the lovely reviewers! And, to Maror thank you. I, personally, have never been there, and my friend wasn't sure if she had gotten the name right, so I am grateful that you cleared it up.

Dedication: To Starr, for her help and guidance.

He awoke in the middle of the night with a jolt, not sure why exactly and feeling slightly disorientated even though he knew he was in his room. The reason was made clear a few moments later when he felt another kick and heard the muffled cries. He sat up, looking at her as she fought invisible assailants in her sleep and he felt something tighten in his chest, reaching out and grabbing her shoulders, trying to wake her carefully and keep her quiet at the same time so she wouldn't wake Parker.

She fought back against him as he called her name quietly and shook her lightly. Her eyes opened finally, wide and frightened, and he sat there, poised over her as he kept her shoulders pressed firmly into the mattress below them. Her eyes roamed his face, her breathing beginning to even out, and he relaxed his stance slightly.

"Booth?" she asked softly.

"Yeah Bones, I'm here," he whispered. He sat back, allowing her to push herself up so she was sitting up, cocooned in the quilt and he watched her carefully. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's nothing new," she replied.

Her eyes drifted down to the quilt in her hands, then traveled along the bed, the floor, until finally settling on the window, peering through the glass at the world outside. It was raining again, so much for the sun from earlier, and she shivered, pulling the quilt tighter around her though she knew it wouldn't make her any warmer. This type of cold originated from within the body and traveled outward, not the other way around.

"Bones, you have to talk to someone," he whispered. He watched her shiver a moment more before slowly edging closer and wrapping an arm around her. To his surprise she didn't resist, simply buried her face in his shoulder and continued to shake. "Please, Temperance, I want to help."

She took a deep breath and he watched her, rubbing slow circles along her back, trying anything to soothe the demons within her. Her head tilted and she pulled back slightly, not away, just enough so that she could meet his eyes and he noticed that she had started crying, silver trails glittering in the dim light of the room.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation in his answer. He wanted, needed, to know what had happened to her. So he could stop blaming himself, or blame himself all the more, he wasn't sure on the reason but he knew he wanted to hear what she had to say.

"It wasn't your fault," she told him. She had to get that out in the air before he believed it was anymore than he already did. It wasn't really, she was the one who had disobeyed his request to stay back, to stay with someone, to do anything but what she had done in the end. It wasn't his fault, it was hers. "I did it all on my own, my own stupidity or whatever you want to call it."

"Bones..."

"No, let me finish," she exclaimed, looking at him. He fell silent and she sighed, resting her head back on his shoulder, enjoying the comfort that just this small act offered her. "I should have listened to you, I should have followed your instructions but I thought my way was the right one, not yours. Well, you were right."

She groaned softly as she awoke. For one reason or another her head felt as if it had just been hit with a sledgehammer or some such similar object. She sat up slowly, blinking rapidly to try and clear her blurry vision but nothing she saw made any sense. The last thing she remembered was sitting down on her couch at home to read, therefore it should follow that her surroundings would be her living room, not the boxes piled up around her and the crates and what looked like some sort of crane.

She was tired and groggy but forced herself to stay awake, reaching up with a hand to touch her forehead. It was sticky and sore, as was most of her. She frowned, trying to remember when that had happened but she couldn't, after sitting down it was all a blur. She felt around in her jacket and found the cell phone in the inside pocket, pulling it out and dialing the first number that came to mind.

She paused but he knew what happened next. It had been late at night, nearing on midnight and he was still pouring over the case notes and the file on their suspect, trying to find out just where Valdez had tripped up and made his mistake when his cell went off. He answered it without thinking, without checking the id, and listened to the shallow breathing on the other end.

She had spoken finally, haltingly, saying she wasn't sure where she was, that there were boxes where there shouldn't be and concrete when her floors were hard wood. It was mumbled and confused and he had felt the first pangs of worry grip him, remembering back to a similar phone call, that time from New Orleans. Before he could say anything, before he could question her the line went dead and he had cursed loudly before calling for more agents and back-up to check out all the warehouses around the location where Sally White's body had been found.

He had come up behind her and ripped the phone away from her, slamming it against a crane and breaking it. The noise had hurt her head more but she had moved away from him, making herself stand up and meet his eyes. He looked frazzled and angry, his voice was thick and oily when he spoke to her.

"Hello Doctor Brennan."

"What do you want Valdez?"

Whatever it was she had been drugged with it was wearing off, her voice was stronger and not as slow as it had been when she had spoken with Booth. She could feel some strength returning to her but knew it wasn't enough to take him down with.

"Just to talk. I find you quite fascinating," he told her, moving around, trying to get closer but she would side step, always keeping a box or a crate between them. "You had me hooked with your first book," he explained.

"What do you want?"

He ignored her question, pulling out a knife instead and poking his finger with it, testing the sharpness. "You hear the storm outside Doctor?"

She paused, noticing the thunder for the first time and the soft patter of rain drops against the roof of the warehouse. "Yes," she replied.

"That thunder? It'll cover up any scream you make," he says, grinning madly as he advances again. "You thought you could outsmart me by calling your F.B.I. boyfriend but you didn't. All you did was make him feel responsible for your death in the end."

She stopped, eyeing him and not correcting his assumption of her relationship with Booth, it wouldn't do to infuriate the psycho. She vaguely remembered Booth telling her that once and a smile briefly passes over her face at the memory before her attention is back on Valdez.

She paused again and he tightened his grip on her subconsciously, trying to will the sense of safety into her. He felt her shift in his arms and then she was curled up against him, head tucked under his and arms wrapped tightly around him, body trembling with the force of keeping unshed tears back.

"I'm here, you're safe. Nothing's going to get you," he whispered into her hair, over and over, willing her to continue. She took a deep breath, and he felt her nod but she remained silent a minute or so more, until the thunder passed overhead.

He lunged at her, she reacted too slowly, and he pinned her against the crates she was standing near. His breath smelled of garlic and spices and she turned away from him, shoving at him but her only pinned her hands to her body. He smiled at her, gruesome with rotting teeth and she winced as her head hit the wooden crate.

"Let me go," she growled.

"You aren't going anywhere Doctor. At least not in one piece," he informed her with a feral grin. She struggled more then but he hit her in the face and she felt the knife slice into her arm because of it. Her head reeled and she cried out, shoving against him, screaming louder even if no one could hear because of the thunder outside.

She could hear sirens, so could he it appeared because his assault increased in its earnestness. He leaned in close, whispering in her ear and she kicked at him. "He'll think it's all his fault. He'll blame himself for awhile, wonder over what he could've done differently. How much sooner he could have gotten here before you were killed."

"Let me go."

"Then he'll be mad, angry at you. Because you didn't take him up on his offer for protection, you didn't listen to him when he told you I was dangerous because I am Doctor Brennan. I am very, very, dangerous." He laughed and she shoved him, but he brought her down with him.

They were rolling around on the ground and she was trying to get the knife away from him when she heard footsteps running towards them. She had grabbed his arm, the one with the knife, and was holding on to it tightly as he hit her, trying to get her to let go of it. They both froze when they heard his voice, and the safety click of the gun.

Another pause but he didn't need her to finish. He knew what had happened after that. The other agents were still behind him, he had left without them, he knew Cullen would yell at him later, and he had come across Valdez with his hand on Brennan's windpipe and her holding onto one of his arms, trying to keep the knife away from her.

He shook the memory from his mind, instead concentrating on the woman in his arms. She was alive, she was safe, and she was going to get better. She looked up at him and he saw the tears tracing their way down her face. He gave her a gentle smile, reassuring her that everything was alright, and reached up, brushing the tears away before pulling her close again and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"I'm sorry Booth," she whispered softly. Her fingers reached up, dancing lightly over the wound where Valdez had hit him with the knife. A lucky hit since he had thrown it with a bad arm, but a hit nonetheless. "For everything. For not listening, for frightening you, and for depriving you of your sleep..."

He pulled back, holding her so she could see his eyes. "Trust me Bones, I'm not mad at you. I'm worried, yes, but not mad. And there is no where else I'd rather be than sitting here, listening to you and trying to help you, understand?"

"Yeah, I understand," she replied with a rare smile. She curled up against him again, turning so that she was facing the window, watching the rain fall outside.

He smiled, leaning back against the pillows and headboard, holding her closely against him, thinking about just how right this felt and wondering if she felt that way too. She yawned and his smile grew as he reached around her, pulling the blanket up around them, tucking it around her shoulders and she flashed him a relaxed smile.

"Goodnight Booth," she sighed softly.

"'Night Bones," he replied just as quietly.