Hey there, Bone-heads! Haha! XD I called you a Bone-head, but it wasn't an insult! It's like I'm a Bone-head (fan of Bones) just like I'm a Rent-head (fan of Rent), a Swifter (fan of Taylor Swift), a Parrot-head (fan of Jimmy Buffet) and a Twi-hard (fan of Twilight) :D I just came up with Bone-head and Swifter. Let me know if you like or dislike either name :)

Anyway, I'm sorry for the long wait for an update on this story. I've been working really hard on this and 'Back To Me, Back To You' at the same time, so just hold tight and I'll move both along as fast as I can. I swear, after these two are done, I'm never posting an in-progress story again! XD I'm going to write the whole story before I post it so I don't have the guilt of making y'all wait. I'm sorry again XD

Also, thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited and/or subscribed to me or this story. That makes me so happy that you guys like it!

Now, maybe after this chapter, you'll know what's really going on with Bones ;D One person already guessed right, but they were the only one to guess XD

Also also, I'd like to say that I promise, Booth will not die in every chapter! I know that that would get overly-sad and boring XD

"Really, Bones. What was that dream about?" Booth asked from the driver's seat as he drove his partner to the Jeffersonian.

He had waited on her couch for her to get ready, sipping the coffee he had made for them. He hadn't mentioned the way she looked so surprised to see him.

"I'd rather not talk about it, Booth. It was just a nightmare," Brennan replied calmly.

"It wasn't just a nightmare. You were crying."

She cringed at the fact that she had been so weak and vulnerable, but she had never been so happy to see him in her life, including the times he had come to save her.

"Was it something to do with me? Because you looked pretty surprised to see me after we agreed last night at dinner that I would pick you up this morning," he said, glancing at her to gauge her reaction. She only looked down to her hands with a sad expression, remembering the look in his eyes as he lay before her, dying.

"Yes." she said simply.

The twang of tears in her voice broke Booth's heart and told him to stop prodding. The ride was silent until they got to the Jeffersonian when she started to open her door and stopped, turning to look at him for a moment.

"See you at lunch?" she asked as she opened the door.

"If I don't take you to lunch, are you going to eat?"

"Probably not," she smiled, masking her discomfort at the deja vu feeling.

"Then I'll see you at lunch."

His smile mimicked hers as she exited the vehicle and walked to the door. He waited until she was inside before pulling away.

Brennan couldn't shake the feeling of daja vu that she had all throughout the day. Every time someone said or did something that they had in what she brushed off as a nightmare, a chill ran up her spine and she found herself worrying about what was going to happen that afternoon. She feared it, in fact. She did not want a repeat of what happened in her dream. She knew it was completely irrational to even think that it could happen. It was just a dream, right? But still, she was afraid.

Booth came to pick her up at noon to go to the diner for lunch. They sat in their usual booth, enjoying each other's company in a comfortable silence for a while. Brennan snatched a fry off of Booth's plate and ate it with a victorious smile. Booth gave her a mock glare and a smile that made her heart skip.

"So did Hodgins find anything about the particulates on the vic?" Booth asked, breaking the long moment of silence.

The mention of the case threw her thoughts back to their attempt at apprehending the suspect in her dream. Including the image of her partner lying in front her with blood covering his chest. For a moment, she stared into space, the color running from her face as she suddenly felt as sick as she did at that horrible moment.

Her paleness didn't escape Booth and he instantly became concerned.

"Bones?" he said, waving a hand in front of her face. "Bones, you ok?"

He didn't gain her attention and he could see the tears pecking at the corners of her eyes.

She was there, pressing the wound on his chest, trying to keep the crimson life from pouring out of him. But it didn't stop his eyes from growing dull as he took his last breath. NO! She cried.

"Bones!"

"No!"

"Bones, snap out of it!" he said, laying his hands on her shoulders, starting her out of her trance.

Her eyes were wide and glistening with tears, but they were looking at him again, instead of through him and into another world. Breathing heavily still, she shook her head.

"No, um...no...I mean...not yet," she stammered. "There isn't anything unique about the soil samples," she said in a small, almost shaky voice as she turned her gaze out the window in embarrassment.

"What was that about? I've never seen you like that," he said, still staring at her with concern in his deep brown eyes.

"It's nothing, Booth."

"The hell it is. Tell me what's going on."

"It's the nightmare, ok?" she snapped, looking back at him and making eye contact. "I don't...I don't know why it has me so shaken up. I've never had such a vivid dream, much less one that made me this...emotional...especially after waking."

"What happened in the dream?" it wasn't like he was asking, but telling her to tell him.

"Please, Booth...don't make me talk about it," her eyes began to glisten again.

"Bones -" Booth's phone began to ring, interrupting the speech he was about to give about how talking about it would help.

He pulled it out of his pocket and answered it. "Booth."

He listened for a moment then thanked the person on the other line before hanging up and pulling out his wallet to pay for lunch.

"That was Charlie. There's been a sighting of our suspect," he said as they stood.

Brennan's eyes instantly widened again, "In the warehouse district," she said quietly.

"Yeah," Booth raised an eyebrow at her in question. "How did you know?"

She stiffened and thought quickly. "Isn't that the cliche hide-out for bad guys?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he laughed.

She watched him as they walked out to the SUV, committing everything from his laugh to his eyes to the way he walked, all to memory, fearing what was about to happen.

*

They were speeding down the highway with lights and sirens on, but Brennan didn't even register any of it, as she was too deep in thought. The dread of what was to come was so strong, she felt like she could hardly breathe. It was irrational, she knew, to fear something that may not happen, but she couldn't fight the feeling that she knew that it was going to happen.

As the SUV came to a stop in the same place it had before, Brennan shook herself out of her thoughts with a new found determination to do nothing she had done in the dream. So when Booth drew his gun and turned the corner, Brennan was not going to turn the corner, but stay put where she was.

"Robert Dow," she heard Booth shout. "This is the FBI. You're under arrest for the murder of Clark Dow."

"I didn't kill my brother! It was an accident!" the suspect shouted back.

"Just come quietly, give a confession and you'll go to jail for a lesser sentence," Booth tried to bargain.

"I'd rather die," the man said, and Brennan's heart raced as her chest burned, knowing what was coming next.

The crack of a gunshot echoed through the air, sending a chill up Brennan's spine. After a second of the aching need to know if her partner was still alive, she peered around the corner to see Booth with his gun still aimed towards Dow, who was on the ground with a bloody, heaving chest.

"Booth? Are you ok?" she asked, coming around the corner and walking towards him.

"Yeah, Bones," he said, holstering his gun and looking at her over his shoulder. "I just hate that part."

"I know," she nodded.

Suddenly, one more crack echoed off the buildings. She glanced at Dow who dropped his raised gun as he stopped breathing, then she looked back at Booth as his eyes went wide.

"Booth?" he collapsed to the ground. "Booth!"

She was on her knees, by his side in a flash, repeating the process of removing her jacket, balling it up and pressing it to the gunshot wound in his chest.

"C'mon, Booth, stay with me!" she said, grabbing and squeezing his hand. "You have to hold on!"

The sirens of backup were getting louder as they came closer. As he stared at her with fearful eyes, he forced himself to try to speak.

"No, don't talk. You have to save your strength," she said through her sobs.

"B-Bones..." he choked out before his eyes went dull and his chest stopped moving.

"No! NO! Booth! Please! No!" she cried, but he was gone.

*

She sat there, running through the day and her dream in her mind. It hadn't happened exactly the same way, but it had happened, and here she was again sitting in her office with his blood staining her hands as tears tracked down her cheeks. It had been a half hour since the nameless FBI agent had dropped her off, and just like her dream, Cam, Hodgins and Angela walked into the Jeffersonian. She didn't bother to wait for Angela to notice her, she just stood and walked out into the main lab, the team staring at her in shock when they noticed her.

"Oh my God! Bren, what happened?!" Ange asked, running over to her best friend.

"Booth was...killed...by our suspect..." she said quietly.

Gasps escaped each mouth. She didn't wait for anyone to say something before turning and walking to the bathrooms, knowing Angela was about to tell her she needed to wash off the blood. She braced herself with her hands on the sink, choking on sobs as she stared at the blood dried to her hands. After a moment she turned on the water and watched as the last traces of him were washed away. When she came out of the bathroom, her friends were all in their respective offices. She went into her own, but instead of staying, she grabbed her purse and spare jacket she kept in there and left without a word to anyone, headed for home.

*

Pushing through the door, Brennan numbly went through her routine of dropping her keys in the decorative bowl Angela had made Brennan for her birthday that sat beside the door, kicking off her shoes and hanging her jacket on the coat rack. She walked to the fridge and opened it, scanning the few contents before grabbing a beer, popping it open and downing over half of it in one gulp. Grabbing another and shutting the fridge, she finished the first one and dropped it in the glass recycling bin, walking over to the couch where she plopped down and started her second beer. The alchohol was slowly quieting her thoughts of ways she could have stopped this from happening. There was no point in thinking about what she could've done, because it had already happened and there was no way of changing it. There was no reason to be thinking about it. All it would succeed in doing is feeding the growing guilt she was already struggling with.

An hour and two more beers later, Brennan stumbled into her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, not bothering to change out of her pants and maroon long-sleeved shirt. She lay on her back on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling and letting the tears escape out the corners of her eyes and run into her hair. An hour passed like that. Looking over at the clock beside her bed she saw that it was 5:58pm then closed her eyes, thinking that Booth would want her to eat something, but she knew too well that if she attempted to eat anything, it would be rejected and she would vomit. When she opened her eyes, still facing the clock, she took in a sharp breath in surprise. The clock read 5:59am. She sat straight up, realizing that she was under the covers and there was a gentle glow streaming in through the window and across the room. Brennan was sure she had only closed her eyes for a moment. There was no way she had fallen asleep. And that's when she saw, as the clock began to buzz, that she was in shorts and a tank top again.

"What the hell is going on?" she said out loud to herself.

She got out of bed and went to the closet, throwing open the door. There hung the jacket she had used to put pressure on Booth's gunshot wound. The air left her lungs. If she still had the jacket, then...was he alive? If he was, he would be there in thirty minutes, so she showered and dressed and was finished just in time to hear the familiar knock on her door. She smiled to herself. She had another chance. She didn't care how or why, the fact remained, she did. But how, she wondered, was she going to stop it from happening again? And how many chances did she have?

When she pulled the door open, she couldn't help but smile.

"Hey, Bones," he smiled at the sight of her. "Ready?"

She stopped to think for a second. Was she ready to take on this day for the third time?

"Yes," she nodded.

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