I am so sorry for the huge gap between chapters. I have just finished my semester and I was very busy in the weeks leading up to my break. This chapter uses the song "Broken" by Lifehouse which has been a huge source of inspiration for this story, plus I think it suits Booth and Brennan. So without any further delay, here is the next chapter.

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The steady rhythm of Brennan's heart beat slowed as Booth's sped up. The beeps grew further apart and a look of concern spread over Dr. Monroe's face.

"Prep the drugs and the crash cart," she told a nurse.

Booth took his partner's hand.

Dr. Monroe shook her head, "She's not responding, I think we need to put her back on the machine."

"Please Bones," Booth whispered.

The nurse handed the doctor a syringe.

"Wait!"

All eyes flew to the nurse standing by the heart monitor, "There's a slight change," she pointed to the screen, "Her pressure, it's coming up!"

Sure enough the beeps increased and became stronger. Dr. Monroe listened to Brennan's chest and then moved to the tube in her throat. When she turned back to the group she looked astonished.

"She's breathing on her own, barely, but she's doing it."

Turning his head skyward Booth closed his eyes and sighed. He felt as if he could breathe for the first time since he had entered the hospital. His eyes were glazed with unshed tears as he silently thanked the heavens for this miracle.

"Alright, let's book an OR and get her prepped for surgery," Dr. Monroe ordered. She turned to Booth, Max and Russ, "She's made it this far but she's not out of the woods yet. We'll do what we can but we won't know the effects of the damage until later. I don't mean to be cynical but you need to be realistic about her odds. Breathing on her own is a miracle but no one can guarantee it will happen again. We'll do our best."

Booth squeezed his partner's hand and looked the doctor in the eye, "She's a fighter, she'll get through this. She's come this far, she'll make it."

Dr. Monroe looked skeptical but didn't argue with the determined FBI agent.

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Footsteps echoed in the hallway as he paced back and forth, occasionally running his hand through his hair nervously. Every few seconds he would turn towards the doors to the operating room and stare intently.

She watched her friend and read the pain in his eyes. His face was unshaven, his hair disheveled, his clothes rumpled. She knew he had hardly slept since Brennan had arrived and wondered how much he had eaten.

"Booth, sweetie, maybe you should sit down, rest for a bit. They could be in there awhile still," Angela said gently.

The FBI agent glanced at her then continued to pace, "I can't…" he mumbled.

"Do you want something to eat? How about a cup of coffee?" Cam tried, worry evident in her voice.

"Not now," came a gruff reply as he rubbed at the scruff on his chin.

Zack had been observing the exchange between Booth and the women. He slowly stood up and took a hesitant step towards the older man.

"Agent Booth, I think Angela and Cam are trying to express their concern over your appearance and mood. They're hypothesizing that you haven't gone home, slept, eaten or even," he paused, "showered, since Dr. Brennan….since she…" even Zack couldn't say the words, "She would want you to take care of yourself, not worry so much about her."

Booth finally stopped pacing and faced the squint. Zack took a step back, unsure of how the agent would react; he could not read his expression. The men held gazes for a few seconds. Then Booth sighed, his shoulders slumping.

"I know she would, I know what she would say. It's not that I don't appreciate what you guys have done for me in the past few days, you've been more than supportive, it's just," his eyes fell to the floor, "I can't relax, I can't go home until I know Bones will be alright."

"We know Booth," Angela said, getting up to place a hand on his shoulder, "We just worry about you as well."

He turned to face her and placed his hand on hers, "Thanks," he whispered.

There were a few moments of silence before anyone spoke again.

"You know that Dr. Brennan is going to be pissed when she finds out how long it will be before they repair the lab," said Hodgin's, a small grin on his face.

"She'll be in there giving the construction workers instructions, telling them to work faster," Cam replied, realizing that Hodgins' was attempting to lighten the mood.

Angela smiled, "No, it will be the fact that she has to take time to recover that will piss Brenn off. She's going to hate being stuck at home with doctor's orders not to work. We're going to have to keep an eye on her Booth."

"Twenty bucks says she sneaks back to work at least three days before she's supposed to," Hodgins chuckled.

"Forty says she couriers work to her at home or even here," Booth finally chimed in, the expression on his face not so grim for once.

"And fifty says that she bites your head off when you try to take the work away from her to rest," Angela said, poking Booth's arm.

"Why would Dr. Brennan bite Agent Booth's head off?" Zack mused aloud, trying to understand the group.

Everyone laughed in that moment, holding onto the hope that Brennan would live to settle the bets.

Time passed, minutes turned into hours and the group waited.

He felt helpless for the millionth time in the past few days, he hated it. He hated the waiting, hated not knowing what was going on, but mostly hated that he could do nothing but wait. He finally sat down, leaning his head against the wall he fell asleep.

As he slept the day he found her ran through his mind. He was searching for her but he couldn't find her. He called her name over and over as it echoed through the ruined building. Finally he found her but she wouldn't stir.

"Bones! Wake up Bones, please, wake up…"

"Booth? Wake up Booth."

Angela's voice brought him back to reality. He slowly opened his eyes to see her sitting next to him.

"What time is it? How long have I been out? Is she alright?"

The artist rubbed his shoulder gently, "Only about half an hour, she's not out of surgery yet. You were talking in your sleep Booth."

He wiped at his eyes, "Was I?"

"Sounded like a nightmare, about…you know. Do you want to talk about it?"

The harsh 'no' sat on his tongue and his features hardened.

"It might help," she tried.

"I keep going over that day in my mind," he relented, "It keeps playing over and over, I can't stop it. I can't stop thinking about the what ifs, about what I could have done. She shouldn't be here Ange, not like this. If I had just picked her up for coffee, she wouldn't be here. If I had just been there when the package came, if I had just found her a little sooner-"

"Stop," she squeezed his arm, "You can torture yourself with the what ifs Booth but it's not going to change what happened and it's not going to change the fact that this wasn't your fault. Don't blame yourself. There are a million possibilities for how this could have been prevented but it's not worth your time or sanity trying to figure out how you could have changed this. All that matters is that she's alive, and you're the reason she's alive. She has a fighting chance because of you Booth. All that you need to think about now is supporting her through this. Please don't put yourself through hell because this happened, just be there for Brenn now, just focus on being there for her when she needs you the most."

A tear slipped down Angela's cheek as she spoke and she could see Booth's eyes were glazed with his own unshed tears.

"She needs you to be strong too," the artist whispered.

The words washed over Booth as he pulled Angela into a hug. She knew they were what he needed to hear.

Even the strongest of guardians still needs comforting.

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The clock in the room had stopped three hours ago; he had been sitting by her side for two of them. It seemed rather fitting, maybe even ironic that the time had stopped, for he felt as if it had days ago. Maybe without the minutes ticking by she could reclaim the time she had lost, maybe it would hold off what might still come. Despite everything he would wait though, Booth would wait for her, it was the only thing he could do.

He rubbed her hand, "Bones, the doctor said you might not wake up for awhile, but I hope you can still hear me," he began quietly.

"I know you'd want the truth, you wouldn't want anyone to sugar coat it for you. If you were awake you would probably be reading your own chart. So I'll tell you what the doctors said, but you can't give up when you hear it. You still need to fight, please fight Bones."

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing

With a broken heart that's still beating

"You're going to hate what I tell you, you won't be able to work for awhile. Both your legs were broken in numerous places when you were crushed and you cracked your hip. You've got more than four broken ribs, one of which nearly killed you when it punctured your lung, you were lucky to survive," he had to stop to take a breath.

"The internal bleeding was also pretty bad but the doctors fixed you up during the first surgery. What they're still concerned about now is your spine. Bones, there was a lot of swelling around your spine, the doctor thinks it will go down but if it doesn't," his voice cracked, "if it doesn't….but they think it will, they hope it will," he couldn't bare to think of what could happen.

In the pain there is healing

In your name I find meaning

"But you're alive, you made it through this Bones, you're still here, that's all that matters right now."

So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on

I'm barely holdin' on to you

Booth was eternally grateful that Brennan had made it through the surgery. The doctors told him that she still had to make it through the night but he knew she would fight. He knew she hadn't come this far to give up now. She never gave up, even when there seemed to be no hope. His mind conjured up images of pulling her out of the dirt after she had been buried alive, and finding her hanging by a meat hook in a warehouse. He shuddered at the thoughts. She had survived those ordeals, she had put her faith in him and the bad times had brought them closer together.

The broken locks were a warning, you got inside my head

I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead.

He couldn't believe how they had loathed each other at the beginning of their partnership, but now, he couldn't imagine life without her. It had taken time and trust but she had let him into her life and he had been drawn into hers. To lose her now would be like losing a part of himself.

I still see your reflection, inside of my eyes

That are looking for purpose, they're still looking for life

He closed his eyes and tried to remember the last time he had spoken to her. It had been the day before the explosion, they had gone to the diner after closing a case. She had a salad but she kept stealing his fries. He remembered how she had grinned mischievously when he caught her red handed, literally, she had ketchup on her chin. He had reached out and gently wiped it off. When he his fingers brushed her skin he could feel the sparks. Her eyes darkened at his touch and but her grin remained. What he wouldn't give to see that smile on her face again.

I am here still waiting though I have my doubts

I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out

Booth knew he wasn't a perfect man, a model, a saint, but to take away all her pain and suffering he would give anything. So he bargained again in his prayers, asking for her life and offering his own.

So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on

I'm barely holdin' on to you

To be continued…

I promise there will be more soon. Happy Holidays!