I pretty much suck at A/Ns, but as always thanks for the reviews and even those of you who arent reviewing...thank you for reading.

"Ange, pick up!" Brennan whispered to her cell phone as she weaved through traffic on her way back to the diner, willing the phone to stop ringing.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Angela answered.

"Hey sweetie." Angela sounded cheerful, as usual.

"Ange I have a problem."

"What's wrong?" Ange's enthusiasm was replaced with concern at Brennan's tone.

"I…need to talk to Booth…but I'm not sure how." Brennan began, fumbling for words.

Angela was quiet for a moment. "Sweetie, I'm going to need more than that, what is going on?"

Brennan sighed, she was almost to the diner and didn't have time to give Angela all the gory details though she was sure that's exactly what she wanted. She didn't have time to explain the confusion she was feeling as far as her relationship with Booth went, how badly she wanted advice on what to do with it. Instead she stuck to recounting all the strange behavior from Booth that she could remember from the last week and a half.

"Oh, poor Booth." Angela said softly.

Brennan frowned. "Booth? Ange Parker was the one who got yelled at for no reason…"

"Yea, I know Bren," Angela interrupted, knowing her friend probably wouldn't understand unless things were spelled out plainly. "But obviously Booth is the one with the problem. Something has him completely freaked out. I mean, Parker will get over being yelled at by his father, but guilt has a way of eating at our favorite FBI agent...Booth may never get over making his son cry."

"I don't think he knows Parker was crying."

"Believe me sweetie, he knows." Angela sighed, trying to remember what the original subject was, "So what's you're problem exactly?"

"Ange, I don't know what to say to him. I don't know what to say to make him tell me what's wrong."

Angela was quiet for a moment. "Are you his friend?"

Brennan was startled by the question.

"His best friend." She replied quietly.

"I won't take offence at that by the way. Now, are you concerned about him?"

"Yes."

"Then tell him that Sweetie, it will be enough. Booth loves you, if you tell him you are worried about him, he'll want to ease your mind any way he can."

There was no teasing in Angela's voice and Brennan believed what she said.

Booth loves me?

"Okay. Thanks Ange."

Brennan parked the car outside the diner and went in, still attempting to order her thoughts into something coherrent.

Booth had waited for twenty minutes at the diner for Brennan to return. He'd spent the first half of the time with his head in his hands. He couldn't believe he'd yelled at Parker like that. He couldn't believe he'd made his son cry.

He hadn't meant to do it, he just…needed…needed…he needed this pounding in his head to subside for five seconds so he could think straight!

After ten minutes of abject self-loathing he'd taken to fidgeting nervously while he waited for Brennan to return, unsure of what either of them would say once she did.

A bell dinged at the door and seconds later Brennan plopped down in the seat across from him, piercing his skin with those cool blue eyes.

"Is he okay?" Booth finally mustered the courage to ask, though he didn't bring up his head to look at her.

Brennen nodded, so he did see Parker crying.

"He's going to be fine Booth. I just told him you were tired and didn't mean it."

"Good."

"Booth," She waited for him to look at her, "what is going on with you? You've been acting strangely since before you left."

Booth hesitated and shrugged. "Nothing."

"Seeley Booth." She said sternly, and caught his attention with her sudden use of his first name, "I don't like when you lie to me."

"I'm not lying." He said quickly, knowing that that within itself was a lie. He knew he wasn't okay, he just didn't know what to do about it.

"Booth, I may be socially out-of-touch, but I know you, and this," she nodded in his direction, "is not you."

Booth's face remained unreadable and he stared blankly out the window. He wanted to tell her, how badly he wanted to tell her, but...he couldn't. The mission guidelines had been specific. No one could know.

Not even his partner..and best friend.

Brennan sighed, realizing she was getting nowhere with the 'tell me everything because I say so' approach.

She reached out and took his hand resting on the table between them.

"Booth," she said softly, leaning in as if other people were trying to hear, "I'm you're friend, please let me be your friend. I'm worried about you."

She searched his eyes for a few moments, and was satisfied to see them start to soften a bit.

Booth rubbed his thumb softly over her knuckles, "I can't tell you much."

She frowned but he continued quickly, "Not because I don't want to, but because I actually...can't. It's classified. But I'll answer any questions I can."

Brennan seemed satisfied with this and pulled back from him.

"Lets start with 'where were you'?"

"Oregon."

"Why? What were you doing there?" She received nothing but a blank stare as response and realized this was a question he could not answer. "Fine, sorry. Why were you gone for so long?"

Booth shrugged. "I stayed until the job was done. Sometimes it takes less time, next time it could take more. You never know."

"There will be a next time?"

Booth nodded solemnly. "Most likely, yes."

Brennan frowned, she didn't like the sound of that. Whatever Booth had done to make him fall into this state, she did not want him to do it again.

"Was it a case or a mission? You used both to describe your leave of absence."

Again there was silence and a blank expression.

Brennan sighed and folded her arms in frustration.

"Well can you at least tell me why you look like ten miles of bad street?"

Booth tilted his head to the side and then laughed slightly.

"Road, Bones. Ten miles of bad road. And thanks by the way."

"I just meant that you don't look like your normal self, not acting like it either. You're fatigued, edgy, irritable and listless. You also have bags under your eyes." Brennen stated bluntly. "All signs of exhaustion."

Booth rubbed his hands over his face. He would have been offended if it hadn't been true.

"I just haven't been getting much sleep lately."

"That would fit my hypothesis. You look like you haven't slept in days."

Booth just nodded.

"Why have you been having trouble sleeping?"

"Nightmares." Booth said darkly, he saw her eyes narrow as she tried to comprehend why a grown man would be disturbed by 'nightmares'.

"Flashbacks really. Every time I try to fall asleep I'm…back there. I'm in the war, I can hear the explosions, the gunshots. I can see the people that…hurt me. Tortured me. I can hear my buddies calling me. Every time I try to sleep it's like that, so I just haven't been trying."

Brennan nodded slowly and moved to sit next to him, realizing that now was one of the moments when he needed physical contact more than reassuring words. Yet somehow, she was able to offer both.

Brennan reached for his hand and squeezed it under the table as she took a deep breath.

"I've had my fair share of nightmares too. I know they were nothing like your flashbacks…but…I think the part that was always more disturbing than the actual dream was the waking up. To wake up in a dark room, cold and alone. Like no one cares about you, and no one can save you." She looked at him before saying her next part, his brown eyes so full of honesty and trust they seemed to have a physical hold on her.

"So, if you'd like, I think that…well I can come back to your place with you. You need sleep and if you wake up, I'll be there. You won't be alone." He opened his mouth to say something but she continued before she lost her nerve. "I just thought your house made more sense since it would be less disorienting for you, if you do wake up, to wake up in your own bed in your own apartment. Waking up in strange places can be very disconcerting."

He put a finger on her lips. "You're rambling. And 'yes', I think that's a good idea. Thank you Temperance."

-------------------------------------------------

Brennan waited at his doorway until his breathing became rhythmic and even. They'd gone back to his place and had a few more beers per her suggestion. She could tell he was just slightly apprehensive about going to sleep, and she thought that the best sedative would simply be to get him as relaxed as possible, beer helped with that.

He began to snore softly and Brennan smiled.

Goodnight Booth. She went back out to her makeshift bedroom on the couch.

-----------------------------------

It was dark again. He didn't know how long he'd been out, he just wished he could slip into unconsciousness again before the men came back. To his right, in the cramped room barely big enough for two people, a soldier he'd known for about three months had stopped stirring long ago.

He was alone.

He tried to shift his body position and reduce the pressure on his throbbing shoulder, and almost passed out from pain. He could taste rusty liquid in his mouth, could no longer feel his whole right arm and his feet. God his feet!

He wasn't sure he'd ever walk again.

The door opened beside him and he suddenly was grasped roughly by one of his swollen wrists and pulled out into another slightly larger room. He knew what was coming, it had come countless times over the past few days...or weeks or years.

He didn't know anymore.

He knew only the pain as the blows rained down on him. Knew only the sound of his own muffled cries and harsh voices screaming at him in a language he did not understand. He felt himself being pulled upward, then dropped suddenly to the ground. He couldn't even break his own fall, his muscles weak from the beatings and loss of blood. A boot connected with his ribs and he heard the break echo out into the darkness. He felt himself vomit.

Suddenly the blows stopped, he was left in a crumpled heap on the ground, waiting. When no more came, he opened his eyes just slightly, and saw it. The shiny metal caught a glint of light that blinded him for a moment. He couldn't see who was holding the large knife, but he knew it was sharp and it was coming closer. Booth shut his eyes and prayed.

A slow, agonizing pain ripped through his battered body as the knife started to slice into his skin.

Booth sat straight up in bed and screamed. He screamed with all his might, screamed until he couldn't hear himself. Screamed until he couldn't breathe. When he stopped screaming he started pushing himself back against the headboard, trying to get away from the pain. And the knife. He hated knives.

His whole body shivered with cold sweat but Booth kicked the covers off himself, his heart beating so loudly it drowned out the soothing words of someone speaking beside him.

Brennan rolled off the couch when she heard the first scream. Her eyes darted around the dark room, her adrenaline waking her completely as she tried to remember where she was and who was screaming that way.

"Booth!" She stood and ran to the back of the apartment and found something she never thought she'd see.

Booth was pushed back as far as he could be, almost trying to make himself a part of his headboard. She could see sweat glistening all over his half naked body, but what caught her attention was his eyes.

In all the time she'd known him Brennan had known Booth to be a passionately emotional individual. She'd seen him angry, disappointed, hurt, overjoyed, amused and frustrated. But she'd never seen him afraid.

That was exactly what she saw now. Booth's brown eyes were huge and he looked terrified of something only he could see. She ran to his side and touched his arm.

"Booth." He flinched and looked at her. But he wasn't looking at her. He was looking past her, through her, he didn't see her.

She caught her breath when she saw tears glistening in his eyes.

"Oh, Booth." She reached out again, her own tears threatening to blind her.

"Seeley." She tried, when he still didn't seem to know who she was.

"Seeley, it's me...Temperance." She almost couldn't speak, the terror etched into his features, his body language, it was too much to bear. Not her Booth. Not her knight...he didn't get scared.

She sat on the bed next to him and suddenly, he seemed to simply collapse. He grabbed her by her middle and laid his head on her chest, his body shaking with sobs.

Brennan allowed her tears to roll down her cheeks and wrapped her arms around his head and shoulders.

"You're okay Seeley. I'm here. You're not alone. I'm right here."

His tears began to soak the shirt she was wearing and she rubbed his back softly but the tremors running through his body didn't seem to be subsiding.

"Oh Booth," She bent down and laid her head on his, "What did they do to you? What did they do to you baby?"

So what do you think? If you're someone who doesn't normally review, you can just poke the button and write a single word to let me know you're there. Anything would be fine...as for everyone else...Bellabun, angel6, BonesDBchippie...lookng foreward to your reviews.