Booth's knuckles gripped the steering wheel as he drove blindly towards her apartment. His outwardly calm appearance concealed the pain and frustration he felt inside. Blinking, he tried to focus on the road, it was only a few more blocks till Brennan's apartment. His heart was thumping madly as his hallucination ran through his mind over and over, her body on the ground, riddled with bullet holes.

His heart pounded in his ears, seemed to be rattling his whole body as he pulled into her parking lot. He leapt out of the car and took the steps two by two as he made his way up to her apartment. When he opened the door, he found her sitting on the couch reading a magazine.

Leaving his keys in the door, he strode toward her, sank down on the couch and pulled her into his arms.

"Booth, what?" She remained stiff in his arms, unprepared for the onslaught of emotions that came with him hugging her like that. It was a completely different reaction then she was expecting, considering their fight this morning and was she was preparing to talk about this afternoon.

After a moment he pulled back and looked at her. "Are you okay?"

Her gaze flickered between his cloudy eyes several times, searching for a reason for his behaviour, before she answered. "I'm fine, why what happened?"

"Nothing… nothing." He dismissed her quickly. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

She nodded and leaned over, reaching for her glass of grape juice, still slightly irritated her prescribed painkillers meant no wine. She could really use some wine right about now.

"Booth, we need to talk."

"About what?" He asked, something about her tone made him immediately defensive.

"About everything." She replied. "I'm worried about you, Travis is worried about you…"

"You spoke to Travis?" He said, angry that his girlfriend and his best friend seemed to be ganging up on him.

"Well, he called me and he suggested that I talk to you." She explained slowly. She could see the way his body was tensing up the more she talked. She didn't think that was what was supposed to happen.

"I don't need you two to tell me what to do." He muttered, turning away.

"Oh, so it's fine for you to tell me what to do but not vice-versa?" She found herself growing angry as well at the pig-headedness of that suggestion.

"Look, let's just drop it okay?" He said, standing up and heading towards the kitchen.

"No."

He turned around and saw her hands on her hips and a determined look in her eyes.

"We have to talk about this." She insisted, her voice rising steadily.

"About what?" He shouted. "I don't know what you want to talk about!"

She strode into the bedroom and he could hear her rummaging around. He reached into the refrigerator for a bottle of beer, and cursed when he found none. Impulsively, he grabbed a glass from the cupboard and poured himself a glass of red wine, hoping that it would help calm him down a little.

He had quickly downed half a glass before she came storming back into the room.

"What's this?" She said, pulling out a bottle of pills from a purple sock.

"I told you I needed those to sleep." He said clenching his fist, his other hand squeezed tightly around the wine glass.

"And these?" She shouted, pulling out another bottle. "Xanax, Booth? Those aren't for sleeping."

"The doctor gave them to me. I'm just following doctor's orders for crying out loud Bones!" He shouted back.

She lowered her head and took a deep breath. This was not what she wanted to happen. She didn't mean to get angry, she had hoped that they could have a calm, rational conversation about everything that was going on.

Unfortunately, nothing that was going on was rational.

"Fine." She replied as calm as she could. "If you won't talk about this can we discuss everything else?"

"What else is there?" He asked, the anger pulsating in his voice.

"Seeley, you barely talk to me anymore. You're distant, even with Parker. I want to be there for you, help you with this but I don't know how. Travis said you felt you failed, but you didn't. What happened…It wasn't your fault or mine."

"No offence, but Travis doesn't know what the fvck he's talking about." He spat.

"Booth, look at me." She pleaded. "It's me, Temperance. Bones. We can figure this out, we're a good team, remember?" She dropped the pills to the table and moved towards him. "Please."

He paused and searched her eyes for a moment. Eyes so blue and honest he knew for a fact they were one of the may reasons he fell in love with her. The same blue eyes that had been cold, distant and angry that morning. Eyes that cut him deep with just half a dozen words eight hours earlier.

"You don't want me." He said bluntly.

"What?" she asked incredulously.

"This morning, remember? You clearly stated that you didn't want me."

Her lips parted and she took on that thoughtful look he knew so well as she tried to remember what she said that morning.

"Booth! You're taking it out of context. I don't want you hovering over me! There's a difference." She said.

"No there isn't." He said stubbornly.

She slowly walked over to him and placed her hand on his arm.

"I love you Booth." She said softly.

He just took another gulp of his wine and stared back at her, trying to pretend like he didn't care. He had to pretend because he did care. So much. Too much. Maybe if he had cared just a little less he could have protected them just a little more. Maybe…

"Please, Booth, I just want to help you."
His grip tightened around the wine glass and he fought back the rage he could feel boiling within him. He wasn't sure why he was angry, but he was.

At the same time, he did know what was making him angry. It was her. It was the way she clung to him when they slept. The way she looked to him for guidance when she was socially lost, the way she kissed him with everything she had. She didn't get to do those things and then say she didn't need him. Because she did need him. And at a time when he felt himself and everything he was slipping away, he needed her to need him, more than air, sun, blood or water. She was all he had.

She told him all the time that she didn't need to be protected, didn't want to be sheltered and he could take that, expected it. But to say she didn't need him…that was more than he could handle, so much more than he could take.

That's why he was angry. More angry than he'd ever been. He felt lost and alone and she didn't need him. And now, he needed to throw something.

"Just go away." He said, turning back towards the sink, afraid of what he'd do. The very look of her, her soft auburn hair and deep blue eyes were making him angry and he didn't have control of himself the way he used to, so he needed her to go away.

"Booth, wait." She said, reaching for his arm and pulling him back toward her, in the process causing the glass of wine he was holding to spill all over his shirt.

"Now look what you've done." He growled, ripping the shirt over his head and pushing past her down the hall to the laundry room. He grabbed the stain remover and began to rub the shirt furiously.

"It won't come out." He muttered to himself. "I can't stop it."

"I can't stop it." Booth said, his hands pressed hard against the bleeding coming forth from Mackie's body.

"Booth." Mackie choked out. "Go… they're coming, you should go."

"No, I'm not leaving you here." Booth shouted. " I can fix this." He pressed harder on Mackie's chest, the blood seeping through the cloth and through his fingers. "It'll be okay. It will all be okay."

"Tell Jeannie I love her, ok?" Mackie said, wincing as the pain became unbearable.

"Tell her yourself." Booth replied, continuing to put pressure on the wounds.

The sound of gunshots nearby caused both soldier's to shiver and both recognized the look on the others' face as fear.

"Please, Booth, leave me here. I'm not going to make it." Mackie said, coughing, crimson blood bubbling out the corners of his mouth. "But you can. Go."

"I can't leave you here." Booth said wildly. "I told your mom I'd protect you, look out for you."

"And you did." Mackie replied, reaching up and grasping Booth's shoulder with his hand. "Now go Seeley."

Booth looked down at the blood on his hands and then back to Mackie, whose eyes were already closed.

And then he ran.

"Dammit!" he cursed, scrubbing the t-shirt violently.

"Seeley, stop…you're scaring me." She said shakily, standing in the doorway. He turned to look at her and she gasped involuntarily. The wild look in his eyes , his heavy breathing all added up to one conclusion. Something was wrong.

"I can't get it out." He muttered, returning to scrubbing the shirt. "It won't come out."

"What?" She asked, not wanting to really know the answer but her eternal curiosity not allowing her to keep from asking the question. "What won't come out?"

"The blood, it won't come out." He said tonelessly.

"There's no blood." She said, stepping towards him slowly. "It's just wine, just a glass of red wine, Booth."

His arms suddenly stopped moving and he bent over the sink, his chest heaving as if he'd just run a marathon. Then, as Brennan watched wide-eyed, he slowly sank to his knees and leaned back against the concrete wall, eyes still glued to the shirt in his shaking hands as he tried pointlessly to scrub at it with his fingers.

"I didn't mean to run, I shouldn't have run."

Brennan knelt beside him and touched his shoulder, causing him to jerk back.

"I couldn't save him." He said, with tears in his eyes.

She placed her hands over his, and he stopped moving. "Who?" she asked quietly, her blood rushing in her ears. She didn't know what to do. He wasn't acting rational, he didn't seem like himself. He didn't even seem sane.

"Mackie." He whispered, looking down at the t-shirt again. "I couldn't protect him. I couldn't protect you."

She felt her heart rip open at his admission and she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his. "Yes you did." She replied, a tear rolling silently down her cheek.

"Temperance…" he said, his voice full of anguish as he gently touched her cheek.

"I'm here." She said.

He nodded and began to wheeze, his hand fell away and his breath becoming more and more laboured. Clutching one hand to his chest ,his eyelids began to flutter.

"Seeley, Seeley, what is it?" she cried, as he fell forward onto her.

With great effort she managed to roll him over and, after checking for a pulse, she got up and sprinted to the living room.

Grabbing the phone, she dialled without thinking. "Hello, 911? I think my partner's having a heart attack…"

THE END!

Just kidding! Check out the third story in this trilogy: Hearts Are Mended, Life Goes On, coming soon!