Well, I can't believe it, but this is the final chapter. All good things must come to an end. :) I decided to post a bit early as a way of saying thank you all so much for your feedback and encouragement. Thanks especially to my beta chosenname. She proofs in exchange for spoilers. :)

Enjoy!

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Chapter 22

When Booth returned to the lab later that afternoon, Brennan had gotten her elation under control for the most part. She was vaguely aware of the glowing smile that seemed to be permanently etched on her face, but at least she wasn't vibrating with excitement anymore. She wanted so badly to simply blurt out the news the second she saw her husband, but the timing didn't feel right.

She wanted to be able to celebrate properly, and they couldn't really do that in the middle of a case. Brennan decided to hold off for at least another day or two, preferably once the case was closed. In the meantime, she mentally practiced the words she would use when the opportunity presented itself.

Booth had been able to clear the guitarist as a suspect, but the man had been able to give him another lead. Apparently, Tommy Sour had cosigned a business loan with his boss, Dr. Jason Bergman. The money had been intended for the Valera Wellness center, but Tommy had used the funds to produce his album instead. The financial obligation had then fallen upon Dr. Bergman, who was reportedly very angry with Tommy for his duplicity.

They returned to the wellness center in search of Dr. Bergman, but one of his employees told them that he hadn't come to work that day and wasn't answering his phone. Booth put out a BOLO on the man, but since there was nothing more they could do about his disappearance, they decided to call it a day.

As they shared an enjoyable dinner with Max, Brennan felt her father's eyes upon her more than once. He was wearing that secretive smile again, but this time it shone just a little brighter. Brennan wondered what her own expression must look like. She still felt exhilarated at the realization that she carrying Booth's child, and it was impossible to keep a straight face. Booth had noticed her good mood, but he hadn't pushed her to reveal the reason for it.

Their case progressed quickly the following day thanks to a timely revelation from Hodgins. Dr. Bergman had been picked up by highway patrol a few states away, but Hodgins interrupted their interrogation to report on the particulates he'd gathered from the victim's damaged vertebrae. The evidence led them away from Dr. Bergman, indicating instead that the weapon had been a clay-cutting wire such as those used by sculptors.

With that vital information in mind, Booth and Brennan returned to Tommy Sour's apartment building to arrest the first person they'd questioned in his murder: his neighbor Adam Matthews. He admitted that he had assaulted Tommy with the intent to merely frighten him into complying with Adam's repeated requests for less noise. Tommy's relentless singing practice had been a maddening distraction, and the annoyance had persisted until Adam had lost control of his anger.

Both partners were relieved that the case was closed, though for different reasons. Brennan was eager to give her husband the news of her pregnancy, and Booth was hopeful that solving Tommy's murder would encourage Pam Nunan to move on. He decided not to stress any further over the situation. Brennan's persistent good mood had brightened his own considerably, and it was in that spirit that he invited the squints, Sweets, and Max to the Checkerbox that evening.

Booth had heard his wife sing on several occasions, but it had always been in soft, quiet tones. He knew that she had a pleasant voice, but her story about loving Cyndi Lauper's music had made him long to see her on stage. Though he had regarded the various performers at the Checkerbox with a fair amount of indifference, he hoped that he would be able to convince her to share her talent. If nothing else, it would help her to connect with the happy young girl she'd once been.

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Brennan looked at the neon sign outside of the Checkerbox and narrowed her eyes in confusion. When Booth had told her that they were going out, she had assumed he'd meant dinner at one of their usual haunts. She was even more surprised to see the faces of her co-workers and her father when they entered the bar.

"What are we doing here, Booth? I thought you didn't like this place." She watched a sly grin light up his handsome face.

"You need to sing in front of a live audience," he said excitedly. "It's innate, right?"

"No way…" Her eyes widened as they fell upon the stage, empty but for a piano and an accompanist who was warming up for 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.'

"Hey, I've got the music, the frivolity… What else do you need?" He smiled as though extending an irresistible challenge. Their friends cheered enthusiastically.

"Come on, Dr. Brennan, you can do it!" Hodgins encouraged her. "We're here for you!"

"You're very controlled, Dr. Brennan," Sweets said, nudging her gently toward the stage. "I think it would be good for you to let yourself go. Trust yourself. Trust your friends."

Brennan allowed herself to be pushed onto the stage, smiling in bemusement as her friends shouted their support. She laughed, shaking her head at Booth as she stepped up to the microphone. He had managed to surprise her, and she had a pretty good idea of just how to surprise him in return. She would sing for him and then tell him she was pregnant. Maybe I'll even do it from the stage… Satisfied and excited with her plan, she whipped her jacket off and tossed it aside just as the music began to build.

"Come home, in the morning light,

My mother says 'when you gonna live your life right?'

Oh mama dear, we're not the fortunate ones,

And girls, they wanna have fun.

Oh, girls just wanna have fun."

Booth's smile was so wide that his cheeks ached as he watched his wife sing. She was wonderful, so full of life and happiness that it seemed to radiate from her. Every eye in the room was focused on her, and her enthusiasm was infectious.

"The phone rings, in the middle of the night,

My father yells, 'what you gonna do with your life?'

Oh daddy dear, you know you're still number one,

But girls, they wanna have fun.

Oh, girls just wanna have fun."

Booth was distracted by the sound of his given name being shouted from behind him, and he was still smiling at Brennan's performance when he turned around. The grin shifted to concern immediately, however, when he spotted Pam Nunan standing near the bar. She held a revolver in her hand, and it was pointed directly at Brennan. His response was instantaneous and instinctive.

Brennan faltered in confusion when Booth turned to look behind him. Time seemed to slow and stretch, turning seconds into eons as she watched the horrific scene unfold. Pam raised a gun and aimed it toward the stage, saying something to Booth that Brennan couldn't decipher. She watched in terror as her husband stood up quickly, placing himself directly in the path of Pam's bullet. Then time seemed to stop altogether.

Pam pulled the trigger, and Booth's body jerked with the force of the impact. The sound of the gunshot and the screaming that followed were lost in the rush of blood and adrenaline that filled Brennan's ears. She leapt down from the stage and raced toward Booth. The few short steps seemed to take hours, and she reached her husband just as he collapsed. His eyes were wide, stunned, and frantic as they searched for her face.

In one brief moment of clarity, Brennan looked back at Pam. The shock of her own actions was prominent in her expression, but it quickly gave way to anger once more. Brennan saw the gun start to move upward from Pam's side, and in a move as instinctive as Booth's had been, Brennan pulled the firearm from his holster, aimed, and fired one shot. The bullet landed dead center in Pam's throat, and she fell to the floor, the life leaving her eyes almost immediately.

Brennan didn't spare her another glance before returning her attention to Booth. His eyes were still focused on her, but she wasn't sure if he was actually seeing her. The bullet had hit his right shoulder, and the wound was bleeding copiously. Brennan pressed her hand against the saturated material of his green canvas jacket, pleading with him to stay awake, to fight.

She vaguely registered that someone was calling an ambulance, but she couldn't look away from her husband. He seemed dazed, and Brennan's fear elevated her desperate pleas to full-on shouts of panic.

"Come on! Come on, Booth! You're gonna make it! You have to! Come on!" she begged. The squints watched tearfully as she hugged Booth to her chest and wept. "Don't you dare leave me. You promised, Booth. You swore you'd never let anything take you away from me. Don't you dare break that promise. Come on!"

Brennan continued to plead with him even after his eyes had drifted shut. People moved about them as she cradled his head and shoulders in her arms, and Max had joined them on the floor at some point. He kept a finger on Booth's pulse and watched anxiously for the arrival of the paramedics. When at last they arrived, Booth's pulse was faint but steady. Everyone watched in horrified silence as he was loaded onto an ambulance, Brennan climbing in right after him.

As they drove at top speed to the nearest hospital, the paramedics continued to work on him. They ordered Brennan to stay back, and although she obeyed, she never stopped talking to him. Her mind flashed back to previous ambulance rides… After the bomb in her refrigerator, after he rescued her from Kenton, after Peter, after she rescued him from Gallagher… They'd been in this situation too many times, and she was terrified that their luck might have changed. Booth had made it through so much in his life, and he'd always survived. What if this time was different?

Tears streamed from Brennan's eyes in a continuous river that flowed over her cheeks and dripped from her jaw. I can't lose him now, not when we've finally made a child together. A child he doesn't even know about yet…

When they arrived at the hospital, she was pushed out of the way so that the doctors could assess his injury. Within minutes Booth was wheeled from the small trauma room, but in her shock, Brennan hadn't been able to follow the doctors' conversation well enough to understand where they were taking him. Her panic level grew exponentially, especially when more than one pair of arms stopped her from following him.

"Ma'am, you need to stay here," a stranger's voice instructed.

"Let go of me! Booth!" Brennan shouted hysterically. "Booth! Stop it! Let go!" She fought against the arms holding her, but she was too overwrought to be successful. The efforts of the hospital staff were soon combined with those of her friends, but Brennan was out of her mind with panic.

"Sweetie," Angela shouted over Brennan's cries. "Bren, please. He's gone into surgery; they're helping him. You have to calm down."

Brennan's pleas finally dissolved into great, heaving sobs that consumed every ounce of energy she had left. The hospital employees backed away, leaving her in the care of Angela and Max while she struggled to regain control. Brennan wept until she felt lightheaded, and she welcomed the blackness as it overtook her.

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"Bren?" Angela's voice sounded warped, as though Brennan was underwater, but she struggled to open her eyes in response. She was in another trauma room, and this time she was the one lying on a gurney. Brennan's eyes fell upon her left hand and noted the uncomfortably addition of an IV.

"What's happening with Booth?" she demanded hoarsely, attempting to sit up. Angela helped her to adjust her position.

"He's still in surgery. No one has been out to update us yet, but it's only been a half an hour. They say no news is good news though. It means he's still alive, still fighting."

"When will-" Brennan's response was interrupted by a quick knock on the door followed by the appearance of yet another doctor.

"Dr. Brennan, glad to see you're awake," the young man said politely, shaking her hand. "I'm Dr. Martin. I'm sure you already understand that you fainted due to high stress and anxiety level, but we did run some blood work while you were unconscious. You were dehydrated, so we started a round of IV fluids, but in addition-"

"I know," Brennan said quickly. "We don't need to discuss it right now. I want to know what's happening with my husband." She had no desire to talk about the pregnancy with Angela at that moment. Her primary concern was Booth, and everything else was secondary. She didn't want anyone else finding out about the baby until she'd had a chance to tell her husband. Angela looked slightly confused, but the doctor didn't give her time to question Brennan's interruption.

"Your husband is still in surgery, ma'am. We'll have someone come update you as soon as possible, but for now, try to stay optimistic. He was stable when they took him back for prep, and they're still working on him, which means he's still alive. I know it's difficult, but right now, I really need you to try to relax. We'll let this bag of fluids finish, and then if you're feeling better, I'll discharge you, alright?"

Brennan nodded and glanced at the IV bag. It was nearly empty, and she was pleased that her dizziness had eased considerably. Not ten minutes after Dr. Martin left the room, they were joined by a surgical intern who had come with an update. He basically gave the same information: that he was still stable, still in surgery, and still alive. They had successfully removed the bullet and were now in the process of repairing the damage.

Dr. Martin returned a short while after Brennan's IV fluids had finished, and he agreed to discharge her with the stipulation that someone would stay with her overnight. Brennan rolled her eyes at this and grumbled that there was no way she was leaving the hospital without Booth anyway. The doctor also advised that she stay hydrated and consult her personal physician in the near future. Although he chose his words carefully for Angela's sake, Brennan understood that he was, in fact, recommending that she see an obstetrician.

When Brennan was free to return to the waiting room, she was slightly surprised to see that it had become full of familiar faces. Everyone who had witnessed the shooting had followed the ambulance, but they had been joined by a handful of other people as well. Brennan recognized a few of Booth's friends from the Bureau, Caroline Julian, and Sam Cullen.

She sank into an empty chair and buried her face in her hands, forcing herself to breathe evenly while images of Booth played on a loop in her mind. His proud smile as he watched her from the audience, the way his strong body had collapsed to the floor, his brown eyes dazed and clouded by pain and shock, the blood that stained his favorite jacket and flowed around her fingertips as she applied pressure to the wound… He'll be okay. He has to be…

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The minutes crept by at an agonizingly slow pace, and Brennan spent most of them avoiding the pitying gazes of her friends and co-workers. When at last the surgeon called her attention, she stood up quickly, ignoring the dizziness caused by her movement.

"Your husband is in recovery, ma'am. The surgery went well, and we were able to retrieve the bullet and repair the damage," the surgeon explained. "He lost a lot of blood, but I expect him to make a full recovery." Brennan sagged in relief, belatedly realizing that Angela was standing next to her when she felt her friend's arm supporting her slightly.

"When can I see him?"

"He's in recovery now, and then he'll be moved to the ICU. Someone will be out shortly to show you to his room." Brennan thanked the surgeon and shook his hand. He's okay… The words echoed a dozen times in her mind as she dropped back onto the chair she'd vacated.

"Dr. Brennan?" This time it was Cullen who was addressing her. He settled into the seat across from her and leaned forward to pat her on the shoulder in a way that felt almost paternal.

"He'll be okay," Brennan said softly, as though she were still trying to convince herself of it.

"I'm relieved to hear it. I can assure you that he'll have all the time he needs to recover." He paused as Brennan nodded in thanks. "There's actually something I'd like to discuss with you if you feel up to it," he said hesitantly.

"If I don't know what it is you want to discuss, how would I know if I'm up to it?" she asked, frowning in exhausted confusion. Cullen faltered, not sure if she actually expected him to answer.

"Well, uh… I have an idea that I'd like to run by you. I'll talk to Booth about it too when he wakes up, but… There's a guy we've been after for several years now, someone Booth has dealt with personally in the past. They've got some beef between them, and the guy went to ground after the last time Booth saw him. Claimed that the next time Booth saw his face would be at his funeral-"

"Booth's funeral?" she interrupted, scowling at the unpleasant sound of the two words together.

"Yes. Now… Booth is under no obligation, but I'd like to try something a bit unorthodox as a means of luring this guy out in the open. The only story the media has right now is that Agent Booth was shot in a bar by a person of interest in his last case. I'd like to put the word out that Booth succumbed to his injuries-"

"You want to fake his death?" Brennan sputtered, shocked at Cullen's audacity.

"Not for long," Cullen assured her quickly. "A couple of weeks at most, just until we can plan a realistic funeral for him at Arlington. We would have agents there undercover to arrest the guy. We'd just need Booth to lay low until it's over."

Brennan's first instinct was to tell him to go to hell, but she was too dazed to follow through. Her brain had been drowning in adrenaline for hours, and the mental exhaustion slowed her reflexes considerably. She sat in silence for several long moments, trying to wrap her head around Cullen's plan. She knew what Booth would say when Cullen presented the idea; he'd approve of the plan without hesitation. Brennan wasn't as eager to help the Bureau at the moment, but she knew that Booth would insist on it.

"You can't just broadcast that Booth is dead," she growled. "What about his family? His friends?"

"We can make sure that the appropriate people are notified of the situation."

"No. I will do the notifying. I won't allow the people who love him to believe he's dead. It's cruel."

"That's fine," Cullen nodded, pleased that she seemed to be agreeing to his plan. "I would appreciate if you would make a list of those you intend to notify, just so that everyone is on the same page."

"Fine," she agreed, already compiling a mental list. "You still have to make sure Booth is alright with it. I can ask him if you want."

"You don't think he'll be on board?"

"No, I'm sure he'll go along with it, but if you're going to fake the man's death, you're at least going to get his personal approval first. You owe him that," she said firmly.

"Fair enough, Dr. Brennan. Thank you."

She nodded stiffly in response, and Cullen left her to her thoughts. A short while later, a nurse appeared to lead her to her husband's room, and Brennan followed the woman eagerly. They wound their way through a series of corridors until they reached the quiet hallway of the Intensive Care Unit.

Brennan hadn't completely known what to expect, but the sight of her husband was a welcome one. He was paler than she'd ever seen him, and his shoulder was heavily bandaged, but this wasn't the first time she'd visited him in a hospital room. His injuries following the refrigerator explosion had been harder to see, and she couldn't help but feel a little relieved at how normal he looked now.

She pulled the solitary visitor's chair to his bedside and took his hand in her own. The nurse had told her that they expected Booth to wake within the next couple of hours as the anesthetics left his system. All Brennan could do was wait.

Once she'd seen for herself that Booth was alive and resting, she returned briefly to the waiting room to speak to her friends and family. She gave them a brief explanation of Cullen's plan and asked them to go home for the time being. She promised to text them with updates on his condition as well as the fake funeral arrangements.

"What about you?" Angela asked quietly.

"What about me?"

"You've been through hell, Brennan. You fainted for the second time in three weeks."

"What?" Max interrupted, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Nothing, Dad."

"Bren, the hospital is taking care of Booth. Who's taking care of you?"

"Ange, I'm fine. Booth's okay, so I will be too. Just go home, alright? I'll keep you all updated."

"I could stay with you if-"

"No, really, Angela. It's okay. Go home."

Brennan didn't want to argue about it. She'd told the doctor earlier that there was no way she was leaving the hospital without her husband, and she'd meant it. If Booth was hiding, then she was too. Her friends and family left reluctantly, and Brennan returned to Booth's room. He lay still and silent in the bed, just as she'd left him.

Brennan watched him for signs of consciousness, checking his monitors repeatedly as time moved sluggishly forward. She stepped out of the room just long enough to make the necessary phone calls to Rebecca and Hank. She left a message for Jared, and she knew that her father would handle informing Russ. The more she contemplated Cullen's plan, the more certain she was that it would probably turn out to be beneficial to Booth as well as the Bureau. He was notoriously stubborn when it came to recovering from injuries, and Cullen had, perhaps unwittingly, given her the perfect means of making sure that Booth stayed out of the office for at least a little while.

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It's been four hours. Why isn't he awake yet?

Brennan's eyes continued a pattern of glancing from the clock to Booth's face, and her concern grew as more time elapsed. Just as she made the decision to call for a nurse, Booth's surgeon entered the room.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Brennan."

It's afternoon already? she wondered. Brennan shook the man's hand and tried to force her lips into a polite smile.

"Hello. I thought they said he would be awake by now."

"Well, to be honest, I expected him to come around a couple of hours ago, but the delay is nothing to worry about just yet. Everyone handles anesthesia differently, and some people simply take a longer time to come out of it. His vitals are stable, and at this point, we just continue to wait. If he doesn't wake up in the next few hours, we'll do a head CT, but try not to worry, alright?" Brennan nodded distractedly, wondering if he really expected her not to worry.

"I'd like to see his x-rays please. Pre-op and post-op. I'm a forensic anthropologist," she added when she saw his confusion. His expression cleared and he promised to have a resident bring the films in shortly.

After the doctor left, Brennan returned to her post at Booth's bedside. Her eyes remained locked on his face as her mind began to wander. She thought back to the promise he'd made a couple of months ago… the one she'd begged him to keep as the paramedics had worked over him.

"I don't ever want to do anything that might take me away from you, Bones. I can't stand the thought of not being with you. You're everything, baby."

And then he went and stood in front of a bullet, she snorted inwardly. He's going to be in big trouble when he wakes up… But that thought led to a more troublesome one. What if he never wakes up? Brennan knew that she was probably overreacting, but she also knew that there were many documented cases of people who simply never woke after surgery. It was one of the numerous possible complications listed in the consent forms she'd signed. No one ever thinks that it will happen to them or their loved one, but the fact of the matter was that it did happen sometimes.

What if I lose him? What if we lose him?

She dropped her forehead into her palms and closed her eyes as she berated herself. It was ridiculously sentimental to think that there had to be one perfect moment to tell him I'm pregnant. I should have told him right away, the moment I suspected it…

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were praying."

Brennan looked up with a gasp of shock. His eyes were open, and he was looking at her.

"Booth!" Tears of relief spilled over her cheeks, and she squeezed his hand tightly. "You're awake," she breathed. "Are you in pain? I can get the doctor…"

"No, I'm okay. Please don't cry, baby. I'm okay," he promised, wiping her tears clumsily. Brennan expelled a ragged sigh and stood abruptly, leaning over the bed to kiss him. Her lips moved over his with passion and desperation, as though she feared he might disappear if she stopped.

Wow, he thought when she eventually pulled back. Before he could voice the thought, however, she blurted out the words she'd been holding inside for nearly two days.

"I'm pregnant."

Booth felt the expression on his face freeze in place as he tried to absorb her words. He wondered vaguely if he might actually be dead or still asleep. Because this felt like heaven or possibly the most wonderful dream he'd ever had. Pregnant? His silence and changing expressions concerned Brennan, and she felt herself growing nervous at his reaction. She'd thought he would be happy...

"Say something," she pled.

"Is this real?" he asked, his voice a little raspy from the intubation as well as the emotion threatening to overwhelm him. "I mean, I'm really alive and awake, right? Because if this is my brain trying to give me something amazing to hold onto while I'm dying-" She interrupted him with another kiss, though this one was brief.

"Yes," she beamed at him. "It's real. I'm pregnant." Booth's face lit up like the sun.

"A baby?"

"Yes."

"We're having a baby?!"

"Yes!" she laughed. He reached up to pull her back to him, kissing her deeply.

"I love you, Bones," he whispered as he felt his own eyes overflow. She smiled back, wiping his cheeks before favoring him with yet another perfect kiss.

"I love you too."

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The End!

So to answer a few of your questions in advance - Yes, I'll be posting an epilogue of sorts. Yes, it will involve a few things from S4. I will not be rewriting episodes, however. That part's all done. That being said, I'd like to know if there are any particular things from S4 (or just in general) that you'd like to read. Squinterns? Ripley? Jared? Roxie? Obviously there can be no plane trips to England or China, and the circus is definitely out. Brennan will be due sometime in December, and I have pregnancy-related things in my notes as well. Not to mention the fallout from the fake funeral and Zack's confession. I'm not covering that episode, but I will talk about how the characters deal with the aftermath. And there will, of course, be at least one smut scene thrown in there somewhere. Because I'm me. Whether all of this ends up being a simple epilogue or a collection of oneshots as I originally planned will depend on how much you guys want to read. So now's the time to give your input!

I hope you've all enjoyed this series, and I look forward to sharing more of my writing. :)

- Christi