Brennan blinked as she came into consciousness again. She tried to remember where she was as she looked around. Dark walls, little light, a strange stench. The suspect's house. It slowly eeked into her mind. She and Whitford had stood at the front door and spoke with the suspect for about 5 minutes, the suspect hadn't allowed them to look inside and did not offer them to come inside his home. It wasn't until he started to get nervous that alarm bells really began to ring in Brennan's head.

"Sir, is everything okay?" Brennan asked, she noticed the perspiration gather on his forehead.

"I'm fine, just not every day the FBI is pounding on your door." He sounded annoyed, but Brennan could understand.

"We didn't pound on your door, we asked nicely. We just wished to speak with you regarding a knife set you own." She replied, watching for signals that Booth had taught her. He clicked his jaw, his eyes dilated, a visible chill could be seen running through his body. All of these things pointed to suspicion, maybe even guilt, but Brennan needed more to come to that conclusion. "We have a record from the manufacturer-"

"If you wouldn't mind letting us in, we could do a quick scan of the kitchen area." Agent Whitford sounded calm, his eyes glancing over the suspect, but he didn't seem perplexed by the suspect's reactions. Brennan wanted to point out that Booth would usually point these suspicions out to the suspect and it would usually get them to talk, but Whitford seemed to brush them under the rug.

"No, I don't have to let agents into my home." The suspect scoffed.

"Well technically, I'm not an agent, I just work with the FBI in consulting." Brennan replied, which caused the suspect to look at her. His eyes seemed to bore into hers with a new fire that she couldn't quite understand. She had seen a look on Booth's face once, but it was during a sexual encounter, almost like he wanted to devour her. However, in that moment, she met his gaze with a similar desire, here she felt uncomfortable.

"Then I will let you come in, but he has to stay outside." The suspect pointed at Whitford and as Brennan was about to object, Whitford pulled Brennan to speak with her privately.

"This might be the only way we can get inside his house without a warrant, why don't you just humor him until Booth gets here?" Whitford whispered then turned back around and agreed to let Brennan walk inside.

Brennan was on high alert. The feeling was akin to when she was locked in a closet in one of her foster homes. Dark, unwelcoming, she felt like she had done something wrong. Immediate red flags began to call out to her. The fact that the blinds were drawn, the lights were off, the house was kept at a cold temperature.

"So now that we're alone, why don't we make this interesting?" She could feel the coldness of the blade to her back. She felt for the phone in her pocket and typed out an SOS message to Whitford. Then, all she felt was pain.

She didn't know where exactly in the home she was, but she suspected the basement. The windows were high up on the ceiling, allowing only a little light to seep in. Her clothes were covered in blood, her own if she had to assume. Her wrists were attached to shackles on the wall. He must have stabbed her in a fleshy part of her body. She hadn't lost enough blood to cause concern, but rather, the pain caused her to pass out.

"Ah, you're awake." He whispered, his raspy voice filled the small space. Her wrists hurt against the shackles and her eyes strained to make out his frame. He was about her height, slight build, his face was gaunt. She could tell from the speckling on the skin and the nature of his gait that he was ill.

"You ate pieces of your victims." It wasn't a question, but rather a statement. The man stopped.

"How could you-"

"You're sick. It's an illness that comes from lack of certain proteins, a brain disease that is commonly found in cannibals." Brennan replied, she felt her knees weaken. She was beginning to see her own fate. The victims. She would be tortured.

"How could you possibly know about brain diseases?" The suspect seemed fascinated, which relieved Brennan. Maybe she could prolong the inevitable.

"I studied tribes in various countries. Many have ancient traditions that hold some cannibal characteristics. It might be the sacrificing and eating of the human heart, or taking on the intelligence of another by eating their brain after they passed."

"What kind of consultant are you?" He asked, pulling up a chair in front of her. She felt uncomfortable like an animal in a zoo, stuck behind glass and meant only to entertain. His eyes were bloodshot. How long have I been unconscious? She wondered as she explained her educational background. "Three doctorates. Maybe I should eat your brain, you know to gain your intelligence." He snickered and Brennan felt that uncomfortable chill. He truly wanted to devour her. She thought back to the look he had given her and it made sense.

His hands were covered in blood, as he toyed with the knife in his hands. "Usually I get to know my victims, they are all so nice, so sweet. They beg usually, they ask me to let them go." He tsks. "But I can't do that. Then I wouldn't complete my collection." He was mumbling to himself, the ramblings of a terrifying man. Brennan tried to focus on what he was saying, how much could be used in court. "They tell me about families, how I should give them mercy, but no one ever gave me mercy." He seemed to be angry when he said this, spitting out the words. "But you don't have the same time they had, I know the police will be knocking down my door any second." He stood up quickly, but Brennan knew that the protein deficiencies he was exhibiting meant that he would likely feel faint from the quick movement.

Soon enough, he stumbled. He dropped the knife in the process and Brennan was able to kick it across the room. A loud crash came from the floor above as she watched horror enter the man's gaze. He searched around the dark floor for the knife, but things happened so quickly.

"BOOTH! DOWN HERE!" Brennan didn't know why she screamed for Booth, wishful thinking perhaps. As she wrestled with the shackles to no end. The defensive wounds were likely from motions like this. She thought to herself as the door to the basement burst open and light seeped in. Men filtered into the basement, but Brennan couldn't make out their faces.

The man became crazed, screaming and he threw something. Brennan felt the sharp pain in her abdomen. Unintelligible screaming. But all Brennan could feel was the pain.

"Bones, stay with me. C'mon, baby." She heard Booth's deep voice, but it echoed. Things felt far away. "I need a medic!" His voice sounded more frantic, but the feeling in her legs began to go numb and her eyes felt heavy.

-BB-

Booth hated hospital waiting rooms. But he couldn't stand them when the one woman he had promised to protect was currently in surgery to repair internal bleeding from a knife wound that would have never happened had he been there.

"Agent Whitford, what the hell were you thinking?" Booth bellowed. They had gotten Brennan into the ambulance and to the hospital. Whitford was as white as a sheet as he walked into the hospital.

"The suspect said he would speak only to Brennan."

"Why?" Booth asked, his eyes narrowing. Whitford knew the protocol. You never allow a suspect to be alone with a non-agent, unless in a controlled environment like an interrogation room.

"She mentioned she was not an agent." He muttered and Booth saw red. He charged at Whitford, only to be held back by Hodgins who had run into the waiting room.

"Woah there, big guy!" He yelled and firmly held onto Booth's arm. Even for his shorter stature compared to Booth, Hodgins was strong. Booth looked at him, the anger in his gaze being met with concern. "You can't go full hockey brawl on the guy, we need you to still have a job by the end of the day." Booth tried to catch his breathing, but felt himself start to break down. Hodgins steered him toward the chairs and looked at Agent Whitford. "You were supposed to protect her, not give her to the wolf."

Booth couldn't sit still for long. Cullen had come to the hospital and taken statements from Whitford and Booth, and then promptly advised Whitford to go back to Hoover with him. He then apologized to Booth, stating that he knew this wouldn't have happened if Booth had been on the case. Booth just shook his head in response, his stomach in continuous knots.

Any time a doctor would enter the waiting area, he would jump from his seat. After four or five doctors, he stopped, only glancing up, in hopes of some word regarding Bones' surgery. Angela sat beside him, holding his hand and whispering that everything would be okay.

"I should've been there." Booth muttered.

"We all needed to follow the protocol. You and Bren were placed on a break by the FBI, we weren't going to argue that." Angela responded, trying to bring Booth back to reality. "You can't always be there." She continued, which only made Booth's jaw clench.

Technically Angela was right, but Booth wanted to always be one step ahead. Protecting Brennan from the bad guys. He sure as hell would never have let her enter the suspect's house alone, even if that was the only way to get in without a warrant. He could only bury his head in his hands and wait.

-BB-

Camille was able to go back and speak with the surgeons who said they were keeping Brennan for testing and that by the time she awoke from the anesthesia, visiting hours would be over.

"They said we can come back in the morning." She reported to the group, only to make eye contact with Booth. "That means you too, Seeley." She grabbed her coat, but noticed that Booth didn't attempt to move. "C'mon, I'll drive you home. They won't let you see her, you're not family."

"I'm her emergency contact. Isn't that enough?"

"Not unless there's a ring on her finger." Cam stood over Booth, who continued to stare at the double doors, praying for Brennan to walk out.

"She's going to wake up alone. Camille, she was … I almost lost her." He choked out. His heart felt like it was breaking all over again.

He heard Bones scream for him and his feet just carried him to her. She was shackled to the wall and it took everything in him not to beat the man to death with his bare hands. The man looked unhinged. Then Booth caught the glint of the blade as the man threw it toward Bones.

Booth's breathing caught as he watched the blade pierce her abdomen. He ran to her, his hands gently trying to unclasp the shackles, as he watched Bones' eyes become more distant. He slowly took the knife out of her stomach as she crumpled and he placed pressure on the wound.

He told her she would be okay, it looked like a superficial wound, but seeing her hurt broke him. As the medics took over, he hovered. The suspect had been apprehended and where Booth would usually be the first to volunteer to question him, he couldn't bear to walk away from Bones. The medics brought her out of the basement, as they went into the sunlight, Booth could see the tear stains down her cheeks.

He would never forgive himself for the pain this situation caused her and he feared their new relationship might not survive this.

Cam sat there as she listened to Booth ramble. He hadn't told anyone about what he saw in the basement hours earlier and she knew he needed to get the feelings off his chest. She then watched as his gaze glazed over and her heart ached for him. This was supposed to be an exciting time for both of them and instead, their relationship had been marred with serial killers and separations.

"Maybe the doctor will let you stay." Cam murmured and Booth gave a kurt nod. He walked up to the desk and spoke quietly with the nurse. She was older and had overheard some of what he said. She felt bad and even though protocol stated no one but family, he was Dr. Brennan's emergency contact. She had listed their relationship as "partners." She told him to follow her and began leading him toward Brennan's room on the third floor.

"I'm assuming you two don't believe in marriage?" The nurse inquired and Booth gave her a wide-eyed glance. "She has you listed as her partner. I usually find that in couples that have been together for a while, but just don't believe in marriage or haven't made that jump." She explained, kicking herself as she watched Booth's eyes soften.

"Oh yea, we have been each other's partner for a while. Almost 6 years. She's not one for marriage." He muttered, he didn't want to correct her and in a way, he enjoyed someone believing they were practically married. The nurse chuckled.

"My husband would tell you to make an honest woman of her, but I think it's sweet you listen to her. Maybe tell her that if she keeps getting herself in these situations, being married will be the best bet in you two being able to bypass any confusion with the hospital staff." She responded, which caused Booth to laugh.

"You might have a point." He replied as they came up to the door. The nurse excused herself and Booth slowly walked in.

Brennan was still under the anesthesia, her eyes closed and her head lopped to one side. The slow beeping of the machine let Booth know that she was in a deep sleep. He muttered a couple prayers under his breath and sat down in the chair next to her, gently stroking the hair out of her face before placing a light kiss on her forehead.

"You gotta stop scaring me, Bones. You can't go into killer's homes without me."

"Whitford said you were coming and he urged me to go. I didn't feel good about it, but we needed to catch this guy." She muttered causing Booth to jump.

"God! I didn't realize you were awake. Jeez, Bones." He clasped a hand to his heart, which caused Bones to chuckle. Her eyes seemed to brighten as she looked at Booth. "Well Whitford's getting a talking to and I'm not letting you out of my sight." Brennan rolled her eyes.

"Typical alpha-male tendencies." This caused Booth to chuckle and place a light kiss on her lips. He sighed when she reciprocated. It was a chaste kiss that ended too soon for Booth's liking, but Bones needed sleep. "You know, you shouldn't sleep on those chairs, it will be horrible for your back."

Booth looked around the hospital room. "Well I don't think sleeping on the floor will be much better." Brennan closer to the other edge of her bed and gently pat the surface.

"Come sleep next to me." Booth's eyes widened at her request. The twin bed would be a tight fit and he was scared of messing with any of her IVs, but he couldn't resist the vulnerability on her face. In this moment, she wasn't his strong-willed partner in crime, but rather the vulnerable and loving girlfriend he had come to know the past couple weeks.

Quickly shedding his jacket and shoes, he gingerly climbed in next to her, careful of all the tubes. Feeling her small frame against him, Booth breathed in at the top of her head. Even after surgery, Brennan's vanilla-lavender scent tickled his nose. His heart sped up as she wrapped her arms around his barreled chest and rested her head on his pec. He was certain she would be able to hear his hammering heart. He felt her hands trace around his abdomen, like they did most nights lately. Twirling and swirling around as the muscle constricted under her touch. "Go to sleep, Bones. I'll be right here." He murmured and she nodded.

"I find that I don't sleep well without you anymore." She said, her eyes looking away from him. Booth brought his index finger under her chin and lifted her to face him. Her eyes bore into his and he smiled. That genuine expression was all her needed to qualm his fears.

Their relationship would be just fine.