AN: Thanks for sticking with me, it means a lot! Here's the update, massively long, but that could be a good thing. Haha Enjoy!

"It's an address," Angela announced.

"And you're sure?" Booth asked.

"When have you ever known me to be wrong about these things?"

"I just want to make sure we have it."

"Booth, we need to go. Right now," Brennan told him.

"We need to get back-up first –"

"There's no time. We can both shoot a gun; we're covered."

"Correction. I can shoot a gun."

"So can I!"

"She did take out that creepy stalker chick who shot you, in one clean shot," Angela pointed out. "She just has to be pissed. And I think right now…she's pissed."

Booth and Brennan's eyes locked on each other. Other than her slapping him at his "funeral" and her later yelling at him in his bathtub, this was something they had never really talked about. Despite her insistence that she had been fine, he'd heard enough from the team to know that she hadn't been.

"All right, let's do this," Booth told her.

She nodded, all of the ice that had been in her eyes the last few days suddenly replaced with fear. Fear was not the emotion he needed from her right now; he needed her to be pissed.

"Just remember, Bones, I didn't tell you I was faking my death."

~*~

"You ready?" Booth asked, pulling his gun as they stood outside of the decoded address.

She nodded, doing the same. Booth knocked down the door and they rushed inside.

"I'll take the upstairs," Booth volunteered. "Yell if you see anything."

He slowly ascended the stairs, gun raised and ready. Adrenaline surged through him with every step. Please, don't let this be a dead end, Booth silently pleaded. Then he heard a scream: her scream.

"Bones!"

He rushed back downstairs and found her in the kitchen. She was kneeling over the body of a small dead boy.

"We were too late," she whispered.

Her voice was distant. Booth had never seen her like this regarding remains before. Maybe it was because this one still had a face, dead only a few hours instead of weeks. Or maybe it was because she was doing exactly what he had told her not to do, and she was blaming herself for his death.

"This was their home. That family…He must have kidnapped this boy and waited to kill him until today, after the rest of his family was gone," Brennan said.

"What about the baby's body? We haven't found her yet."

"She's over there."

Booth looked past the boy and found a pile of blankets with a small hand poking out.

"Oh God."

He wrapped an arm around Brennan and led her over to the couch in the living room. She collapsed against him as the tears came.

"I told you not to blame yourself if this happened," Booth said softly.

"I could've stopped this."

"Bones, do not go down this road. Trust me."

She sat back against the couch, burying her face in her hands.

"I work with bones, not bodies."

"I hate to break it to you, but they're the same thing."

Brennan sighed and pushed herself off of the couch.

"There's been no evidence on the other two sets of remains to indicate who the murderer is. There's always evidence."

"The guy is good, but that doesn't mean we won't catch him."

"You said yourself that he wants to be the one man to stump me. Well he did it. I'm stumped."

"Now hold on a sec. He normally leaves you a message with the bodies…"

Booth got up and began to search the kitchen.

"It's over, Booth. He killed them all."

"Not quite," he said, holding up a slip of paper.

Brennan took it from him. "This is my address."

"I know. I'm not letting you go home until we catch this son-of-a-bitch. You're staying with me."

"But Booth –"

"Bones, you're not safe. He could be waiting just behind your front door."

"What about a change of clothes?"

"Borrow Angela's. You're not going back there."

Brennan ran a hand through her hair.

"I'm not sure if us living together is the best idea," she stated.

"I can protect you. Angela can't."

She fell silent, looking back over at the remains.

"Don't let yourself end up like them because we're fighting right now. I'll leave you alone, I promise. Just come home with me."

She found that statement to be oxymoronic. The phrase"come home with me" didn't usually go with "I'll leave you alone."

"Fine. Just as soon as we get these bodies back to the Jeffersonian."

~*~

The first thing Brennan noticed in his apartment were the empty whiskey bottles. He obviously hadn't been expecting her. Her stomach clenched at the realization that she was responsible for the empty bottles.

"Sorry about the mess," Booth muttered, moving to pick them up.

"It's fine," she whispered.

"You can have my bed tonight. I'm fine with the couch."

"I'm capable of sleeping on the couch, Booth. Sleep in your bed."

"Fine. You hungry?"

"A little bet, yes."

"Pizza okay?"

"Fine."

Booth moved into the kitchen to order. Brennan sat down on the couch thinking again of the face of that boy. She couldn't help but help feel guilty. She should've been able to save him. She should have been focused on the case instead of on Booth. This was exactly why she didn't like getting involved in relationships; they took away from her work.

"It'll be here in 30 minutes," Booth stated, joining her on the couch.

"Good."

This was unbelievably awkward. All the comfort and easiness that had once existed in their relationship had been erased.

"This one's really hitting you hard, huh?" Booth asked.

Brennan gave him a quizzical look.

"The case is really affecting you," he rephrased.

"He wants me dead. Of course it's affecting me."

"I meant the whole thing with the kids."

"I'm not supposed to be dealing with victims, just bones."

"Do I have to remind you again that they're the same thing?"

"Bones don't have faces."

"Angela gives them faces."

"And there's absolutely no motive for these killings," she continued, ignoring his comment. "They were just random. It doesn't make sense."

"Serial killers are like that, Bones. They kill for the thrill. Remember Epps?"

"How could I forget him?"

"And for all we know this killer could be their next door neighbor. We've barely done any investigating, thus far. I sent the bomb squad over to your apartment to do a run through. Maybe the guy will be there and they can arrest him."

"Or maybe I'll have to replace my refrigerator again."

They fell into a silence. Brennan was tired of discussing this case. She was tired of thinking about this case. And in truth, she was just plain tired. She hadn't been able to sleep lately: a combination of her fear that the murderer might know where she lived and the whole catastrophe with Booth.

The pizza arrived and they ate in silence while a rerun of Friends played in the background. Some ridiculous thing about soul mates and lobsters, which apparently mate for life, was the focus of the episode.

"This is ridiculous. Planes don't have phalanges!"

Booth couldn't help but laugh at her. "Not everyone knows the proper terminology for fingers, Bones. To most people, it's probably just a made up word."

"People should be more educated. And seriously this would never happen."

"It's a sitcom. They're supposed to work their way out of impossible situations."

Brennan huffed and continued to watch.

"So she did make it off of the plane," she said softly, minutes later.

Booth smiled, loving how into this she was getting. As the credits began to roll, Brennan turned to face him.

"Was this the last episode or something?"

Booth nodded. "It was. Did you like it?"

"It was sort of sad."

"Series finales always are. Usually the two people everyone's wanted to be together for so long, in this case Ross and Rachel, finally end up together."

"If everyone wants it, why is it sad?"

"Because it's over. Some people spend all of this time fantasizing about how these people will finally get together, and when it does happen, nothing's left."

"That's insane, they're fictional. Don't these people have lives?"

Booth laughed. "They do. It's just a nice escape from reality."

"How so you know all of this?"

"Rebecca was a big Ross and Rachel fan."

"Right so, you never spent any of your free time fantasizing about that moment?"

"Okay, okay I'll admit it. Rebecca had me hooked. I've always had a soft spot for the two of them."

Brennan laughed and God it was good to hear her laugh.

"I told you, you were a romantic."

Booth sighed and started flipping through the TV channels. He stopped on some cop show which was suspended in some "shoot off" moment.

"If he had been there, would you have shot him?" Booth asked, thinking again of the case.

"It depends. He would have had to provoke me."

"If you had seen him right after discovering the bodies of the kids would you have shot him?"

"I don't know. Why are you asking?"

"I just…I can't stop thinking about what Angela said."

"About what happened at The Checkerbox?"

He nodded.

"What about it, Booth?"

"Well, we've never really talked about it and…"

"What is there to talk about? I've already yelled at you for it."

"I just…how did you take the news when you found out that I was dead?"

"Why? Booth, if this is some kind of messed up plan of yours –"

"No plan. I just need to know."

"And now you need to know?"

"Bones, please."

"Booth, I…I fail to see where you're going with this. You started out asking me about this case and now you want to reflect back two years ago? Why?"

He ran a hand over his face.

"I keep thinking about how Angela said you had to be pissed to shoot someone. And then she brought up that whole Checkerbox situation. I realized that, other than you yelling at me, we'd never talked about it. And I know you said that you were fine and everything, but I don't believe that."

"Why does it matter, Booth? Why do you suddenly have the urge to discover the hell you put me through?"

"I'll tell you why after you tell me."

"No."

Brennan got up from the couch and wandered aimlessly into his kitchen. He was right behind her like he had been all week; like every other time that she had tried to walk away from him. She turned around to yell at him for following her, when he pinned her wrists against the counter.

"What are you doing?" Brennan asked, nervously.

"I'm not letting go until you talk to me."

"You can't…haven't you learned by now that this won't fix anything?"

"Haven't you learned by now that Seeley Booth doesn't give up?"

Tears were starting to form in her eyes as she struggled to get away from him.

"Bones, just tell me what happened."

"I can't," she said in a mouse-like voice that in no way belonged to her.

"Why not?"

"Because then you'll know."

"That's sort of the point here, Bones."

"Not like you think it is."

"What?"

She fell silent, letting her gaze drift to the floor. Booth let go of her wrists and tilted her head up to his.

"They…they wouldn't let me see you body. I understand why now, but…Angela and Hodgins had to practically drag me out of there."

He grabbed her wrist again, this time leading her back over to the couch.

"I guess you could say that what I was feeling was equivalent to how I felt when my parents left. Or maybe it was worse because this time I knew you were dead, unlike how it was with my family. I'd seen you get shot, taking a bullet that was meant for me. I'd killed the woman who'd killed you… It was all just so…hard."

Booth's hand unconsciously found its way onto her knee.

"I tried to go in to work the next day, needing the distraction, but everyone told me to go back home. But the thing is, at home, I had nothing to do but think about what had happened. I couldn't even sleep. The whole thing just kept playing over, and over in my mind. In those short three years that we were partners, I had become rather…attached."

"Bones…"

"And that was two years ago. If that were to happen now…if I were to lose…I just…I refuse to let that happen again."

"So in other words, you do love me?"

"I still can't quantify what love is, Booth. But I do care about you… a lot."

"So if the thought of losing me is so unbearable, then why –"

"I don't know."

He couldn't take this anymore. Not being together was hurting them both.

"Bones?"

She looked at him, wiping tears from her eyes.

"You were right."

"About what?" she asked.

"I can't be around you and not be with you. It hurts too much. So I…"

Booth got up off of the couch. God, he hoped this approach worked. Because if it didn't, they were officially screwed.

"Don't," Brennan whispered.

He turned around to face her, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You can't just walk out of my life."

"Really? Because it seems like that's where you've been trying to push me all week."

She stood up so they were chest to chest.

"I can't not have you in my life. I learned that the hard way two years ago."

"So then why did you tell me that we couldn't be partners anymore?"

Realization dawned on her face. "Unbelievable. You lied to me!"

"What?"

"This whole thing, forcing me to tell you about The Checkerbox incident, it was all part of your plan to get me to tell you about my feelings for you, so you could guilt me into starting a relationship!"

"I wasn't trying to guilt you into anything! I just wanted you to realize that there is something there between us. Did I lie when I told you I didn't have a plan? Yes. Was bringing up this event from two years ago the right way to do this? Probably not. But Bones…I need you."

"Booth –"

"No, listen to me. You want me in your life; maybe even need me in your life. But here's the thing: I am in love with you. I can't move on and I know you can't either. So will you just forget about your goddamned fears and take a chance already?"

AN: Feedback is heaven. :)