I'M BACK!! And it appears this story may get finished someday. Now that I know for sure my Bones muse hasn't completely died, there is hope for continuing this one. Remember, since this is (mostly) a series of one-shots, it's not necessary to go back and re-read the previous 28 chapters to know what is going on in this one, but this is a general follow-up to the case in chapters 23-28. And I want to give a big thanks to anyone who has been reading this since my hiatus at the end of July. Hopefully all my readers from before are still with me as well.

As always, reviews feed me and keep me encouraged to write more.


Chapter 29—Hit

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he took another swing at the bag, hearing more than feeling the crack of his knuckles against the hard material. Again and again he swung with all the force he could muster, trying to expel all his anger onto the punching bag. It wasn't working.

He had been at the bag for well over an hour, hitting it repeatedly, harder and more fiercely than he had even in the Army. His hands were long since numb, clenched so tightly into fists he didn't know if he would be able to stretch them ever again. His arms felt like lead, every swing sucking more energy from his exhausted body, but he wouldn't stop.

He heard the door open behind him, as it had every fifteen minutes since he had come in, and waited for Cullen's orders for him to go home. They didn't come.

Instead, he heard the tentative voice of his partner coming from the doorway. "Booth? Cullen said you were in here…"

Not responding, he took another swing at the bag, trying to ignore the sound of her unsteady steps as she crossed the room. She still hadn't healed fully, and was walking with a slight limp to lessen the pain in her ankles.

Knowing he only had a few moments before she would try to stop him from hitting the bag, he took two more swings at it, the satisfying snap as his left fist came into contact with the bag echoing throughout the empty gym.

"Booth?" her voice came again from right behind him, "I think you may have just broken your hand." Her voice carried that mechanical, matter-of-fact tone she used when she needed to distance herself emotionally from whatever was happening around her. It only served to fuel his anger.

We've been doing so well, he thought bitterly, and now, she's going back to the not caring and detached Bones. I can't take that. These bastards already did a number to her, but it's even carrying over well after they're gone!

"Booth, please look at me," she asked, almost pleading with him. She could see blood on the punching bag, and after hearing the sound his fist made on impact, she could only imagine the shape his hands would be in after almost two hours of going at the bag without gloves.

When he finally turned, she realized it was worse than she had imagined. His knuckles on both hands were split open and caked with blood, as well as still bleeding freely. Even after turning away from the bag, his hands were still clenched into fists, which she expected was because he couldn't get his muscles to relax long enough to un-fist them. Looking up from his hands to his face, she was struck by anger and fury she saw etched across his features. The bags under his eyes attested to the fact that he hadn't slept in days, and he had dried blood smeared across his forehead from where he had wiped the sweat off.

Needing to sit down, she limped over to the bench on the side of the room, hoping Booth would follow her. He did, reluctantly dragging his body after her.

As soon as he was seated next to her, she took his left hand between hers and forced him to release the fist. After a few minutes his muscles finally relaxed and it took all his self control not to groan at the pain that was now shooting up his arm.

"Your metacarpals may not be broken," she said, "but you definitely fractured a few. You'll need x-rays to assess the damage."

"I'm fine," Booth replied, not meeting her questioning gaze. "You, however, shouldn't even be out of the hospital yet."

"I was going stir-crazy," Brennan told him. "I threatened the doctor into signing my release papers. Angela picked me up and brought me here."

"Well you need to go back," Booth told her, finally looking at her, "I'm taking you back now." He stood slowly, pulling his hand from hers without as much as a wince.

"Only if you agree to get your hand looked at when we get there," Brennan replied, knowing full well it was the only way he would agree to see a doctor.

"Fine," Booth agreed, "but you have to stay there until they tell you that you're healthy enough to go home. No more threatening or begging the doctors to let you out."

"I never begged," Brennan said, letting a smile spread across her face. "You're the one who always winds up begging after threatening doesn't get you anywhere."

"Yeah, yeah," Booth replied, walking slowly towards the door to the gym so Brennan could keep up.

Smiling, Brennan pulled out her phone and hit speed-dial 2 to call Angela.

"Who are you calling?" Booth asked, looking over at his partner as he paused to let her go through the door first.

"Angela," she replied, listening to the phone ring. "You're in no shape to be driving right now."

"Hey!" he tried not to shout, "I'm just fine."

"No you're not," she told him, "you've obviously broken one hand, and the other one is still in a fist. How are you supposed to steer the car?"

"I'll be fine," he tried to argue, but was cut off abruptly as Brennan started speaking.

"Hey, yeah, I'm fine. Can you come pick me up again? Booth is making me go back to the hospital. Ok, I'll see you in a few minutes."

Turning her attention back to her partner, she softly poked at the wrist of his opened left hand. His wince was more than enough to prove that he wasn't fine.

"Alright, so maybe I can't drive right now," he agreed sullenly, dropping his gaze to the floor as they left the Hoover building. "But don't tell Angela that I broke my own hand. Tell her that I..." he trailed off, trying to think of a believable story.

"How about I tell her you were drinking and got into a fight with a mirror?"

"No!"