Disclaimer: Believe it or not - yesterday I went to the grocery store and they were selling the rights to Bones! I bought them.
Uh-huh.
No, really!
Yeah.
Okay, fine. You got me. I don't own Bones.
Author's Note: See if you can catch the BtVS reference!
WAITING IN THE WINGS
Booth paced the hallway outside of Brennan's hospital room anxiously. He was afraid to breathe, to talk—anything. He stopped every few minutes to peer inside the window, but he could never see anything. Oh my God, he thought. This is all my fault. It's all my fault.They'll kill me. He stopped, trying to calm himself down. It didn't work. Oh God.
---
Brennan studied the body lying in front of her. "Victim is female, middle aged." Booth stepped away from the skeleton, looking elsewhere for items that might have belonged to the victim. Something drew his attention to the rooftop opposite where they were standing. There was a figure…Booth froze. Almost as if none of his years of Army and FBI training had not paid off, in that moment he simply froze. Brennan was continuing her analysis. "The skull shows combined features of—"
"Bones," said Booth slowly. Brennan looked at him, annoyed.
"Yes, Booth, there are bones in the human body."
"No—BONES!" He saw the figure on the rooftop move slightly, and all of a sudden everything happened at once. He moved to grab Brennan around the waist and bring her to the ground, but it happened too fast. The bullet shot through Brennan's left shoulder, spattering Booth's shirt with blood. She didn't look shocked, or in pain. The look on her face was almost one of confusion. She frowned at Booth.
"Booth—your shirt." She pitched forward, but Booth was there to catch her. He held her body in his arms.
"Bones—no, no, no, no, no, no. No. Bones! BONES. Come on. Come on. Stay with me. I—It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be—okay. Come on. You're gonna be all right. It's okay. No…" He shook his head violently, gritting his teeth. "You're stronger than this, Bones. Come on. I need you."
---
She had been in surgery now for what, one, two hours? Booth didn't know. The time had passed either too quickly or too slowly – he still wasn't sure which. Finally he sat down on one of the chairs that lined the hallway, resting his head in his hands, trying to stop the flow of guilty thoughts that rushed through his head. If only he hadn't frozen. What was I thinking? he thought angrily. He could have moved way before then, he could have gotten her on the ground—she'd be okay.
The door opened. Booth stood up, hoping against hope to hear the words he wanted to hear.
"Agent Booth?" asked the doctor. Booth nodded.
"We were able to retrieve the bullet. She'll be okay."
Overcome with relief, Booth collapsed back into the chair.
Maybe a pretty little review?
