Hello!!

I know, I know. I'm shameless. I took forever to post. In my defense I can only blame college. And Rome.

Thank you so much for the reviews on the last chapter. Even though I feel a litle sadistic admiting this, it was a lot of funto write.

So, tell me what you thing. Any ideias about what's coming?

Enjoy

7 – The aftermath (Part 1)

Time stood still. Everything was moving in slow motion. She recalled begging him to stay, but the memories were plagued by the hurt of him leaving. He left. He truly left.

Brennan felt paralyzed, almost under hypnosis. The headache, the acute headache, the burning throat were all silenced by a broken heart. This simple fact mesmerized her. Her chest was physically hurting, as if Atlas got fed up of the weight of the world and dropped it right on top of her heart.

Her mind was slowly returning to her, after abandoning her just a few moments before. She carefully took in her surroundings. The room was a mess. The couch was out of its place, moved by the shear strength of Booth's struggle. The pillows were all over the floor, completely ripped through. The sheets were so torn that she was sure they were never going to be used as sheets again. The coffee table was broken and bloody, a small pit of blood pooling next to its right corner. And she was… Well, how was she?

Very slowly, Brennan got up and walked to the nearest mirror, her mind set in doing some damage control before heading to the morgue to work on the case. One single look told her that was not going to happen. She barely recognized herself. Her face was as white as snow, except for a few ugly purple marks. A clean but deep cut came from her forehead to her left cheek, missing her eye as by a miracle. It was still bleeding. "So this is why I feel so lightheaded." It was going to need stitches, so she needed to go to the hospital. Two purple hands were starting to form around her neck, making her appearance sinister. She outlined them with her fingertips, for a moment forgetting how they got there. She was impressed by their power. She had known they had been powerful, but to her, his hands had always been gentle. The dichotomy was breathtaking.

She indulged herself in a quick shower before going to the hospital, being careful to avoid the cut, making sure the bleeding was stable. Feeling the hot water hit her tense muscles seamed to calm her, not only physically, but mentally.

Temperance Brennan couldn't help to have mixed feelings about Booth's reaction. On one hand she had known he was going to blame himself, and she felt sorry for him. She knew he would never intentionally hurt her, and she wanted nothing more than to make him believe that. He didn't' deserve this kind of pain. On the other hand, she was a little hurt by the fact that he left. He had promised he never would, and now she needed him around. She needed him to take her to the hospital, to fuss over her, while she was telling him she could take care of herself. And she couldn't help him believe her with him running.

After the shower she dressed herself the best she could cursing the summer, and the Philadelphia's hot air. She was wearing a long sleeved shirt that made her extremely hot and a scarf around her neck that wasn't helping matters. But she couldn't walk around looking like someone's punching bag. It raised too many questions that she didn't want to, or even knew how to answer. "Where is Booth when I need him?" She sighed deeply.

She took the car keys Booth left, and was getting to the car when the dizziness started. Remembering that she had lost a considerable amount of blood, she put the keys back in their place, leaving the room, and heading for the front desk. That was as far as she went before passing out.

Booth had called the paramedics right before he left. He knew she would have to go to the hospital, so it felt like the least he could do. So by the time Brennan reached the front desk, an ambulance was parking in the drive way, and a group of people were putting her in the back. She fell in and out of consciousness during the ride, and every time she opened her eyes there was only one word leaving her lips.

"Booth."

It was almost noon when she woke up in an unknown hospital bed, to the annoying "bip-bip" of her heart monitor. At least her heart rate was normal. Her headache was fuzzier now than it had been that morning, and she didn't feel as tired. She looked around expecting him there holding her hand, sleeping by the window, or at least making some poor nurse very scared, while charming her into bringing him some pudding. She smiled at the image. She could almost see him flashing his smile, and making the woman melt under his brown eyes…

"Good afternoon, Doctor Brennan. How are you feeling?" She was brought back from her dream by a young man, about thirty five, with sandy brown hair and big green eyes. "I'm Doctor William Bennett, and I've been attending you since you came in at five this morning. I'm glad to see you finally waking up." He smiled, and Brennan found herself admiring the man in front of her. He had the whole Australian surfer's look, and she couldn't help but find him very handsome. But deep down, she was picturing a pair of darker eyes, a slightly larger shoulders and a wicked smile reaching all the way to his eyes…

"I'm not feeling any specific kind of pain due to my condition except from the small headache, which given the force of the blow it's only to be expected. When do you think I could get out of here?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's see what you can remember. What's your name?"

"Doctor Temperance Brennan"

"In what month are we?"

"August 2009"

"Good, what's the last thing you remember?"

"I remember reaching the front desk at the hotel. And after that a few pictures of the back of the ambulance. I assume I woke up a few times on the ride here."

"That would be correct according to your records. Well looks like there's not short term memory loss, which was kind of what we were worrying about given the area of your brain affected by the blow. There is a slight concussion on your left temporal lobe, but it's nothing to be concerned about. The MRI didn't show any kind of hemorrhaging so, I'd say you're going to be sore for a few days, but other than that you are good to go. You were lucky."

"So that means I don't have to stay here, right?" She threw him the best puppy dog eyes she could muster in her position. She was determined to leave.

"I'd like to keep you here for a few more hours to get your blood loss stabilized. You did lose a significant amount of blood, and it nearly sent you into hypovolemic shock. I'm sure you know how serious it would have been, if that had been the case."

"Yes."

The doctor nodded and made a few more notes in her chart. He moved to the door but before leaving he looked at her. "I don't know what happened to you, but you shouldn't have to go through this. This is a crime, you should report whoever did this to you…"

"STOP." Brennan couldn't hear anymore. She felt her eyes fill with tears that she would not let fall. "You said it yourself, you know nothing of what happened to me, and even if you had all the facts I'm not sure you would understand. What happened was nothing more than an accident, and there won't be any charges pressed."

"If it was an accident, why isn't he here with you now, making sure you are safe, Doctor Brennan?" And with that he finally left the room.

For the first time that day, Brennan let the tears fall untamed, and not because of the pain. The doctor had been right. Where was he?

Brennan wasn't allowed to leave the hospital until five o´clock that afternoon, after the whole day lying in a hospital bed completely alone. It was too late to go to the morgue by now. Her headache had subsided, and she did feel much better.

Calling a taxi, she made her way to the hotel again, hoping to find Booth around. She reached for her pocket to retrieve her cell phone, and found out that she didn't have it with her. She felt hope rise in her chest. That was why he didn't come to see her, or get her. He didn't know where she was.

Almost running through the hotel entrance, completely missing the flowers and the beautiful sunset, she made her way to the bedroom after picking up an extra key. Opening the door, she felt she had come back in time. The room was pristine, completely put together and clean. The couch had been moved back, the pillows and the table had been changed, the floors were moped, and it all smelled like roses. The curtains were opened and the last rays of light were streaming in. It looked exactly like the day before.

Catching her breath she entered her room where her computer and her mobile phone were resting in the vanity. Sure enough, there were an endless number of missed calls and messages, but she felt her heart break a little when none of them were his. There were some from Cam asking for developments, a few from the agent they had met in the crime scene asking when she would come in, and a ridiculously amount from Angela, begging her to call her call her back. She was worried, and for a moment Brennan felt better. At least Angela was still there.

Missing her best friend she turned on her computer, and connected the video feed. As she knew it would happen, within seconds Angela's head popped in the screen, her face balancing between anger and relieve.

"Sweetie, where the hell have you been? I've been trying to call you all day, Cam even called to Philadelphia's field office asking for you, but they said neither you nor Booth had come to work this morning. Cullen was crazy looking for the two of you; you were supposed to be working on this case. Booth isn't answering his phone either. We've been worried sick, you should at least send me a text next time you plan on disappearing for a day with that hunk of an FBI partner of yours."

Again, Brennan felt tears streaming down her face. She felt a wave of affection for her team. They had been worried about her. She even smiled at the scolding she was getting from Angela, knowing that it was all out of love. A wave or warmness washed through her. She hadn't even realized she was felling this cold.

"Angela, I'm fine. I'm sorry I worried you."

Angela finally stopped talking and took a good look at her friend. She gasped. Apparently her appearance was still as rough as it had been in the morning.

"Sweetie, what happened to you? Where's Booth? Why did he let some bastard do that to you? I didn't know you already had leads in the case, you were supposed to examine the body today, and then send it to us for ID."

"Angela I don't know where he is."

Knowing instinctively who she was talking about, Angela asked "Did you two fight?"

"Not exactly." Needing reassurance from her best friend Brennan recounted the events that transpired in the morning, interrupted only by a few "Oh my god" or "Poor Booth" coming from her computer screen. Brennan felt a weight being lifted from her shoulders once she was done, and looked over to Angela. For the first time today someone understood her, instead of just judging or pitying her. Someone knew what she was feeling.

"Bren, don't worry too much he will come back."

"What if he doesn't, Ange? He was so hurt this morning. He couldn't even look at me long enough for me to tell him it wasn't his fault. He left so hastily that he didn't even take his cell phone. Or his car keys."

"Oh well, now I'm sure he is coming back."

"Why?"

"Brennan, when did he ever let you drive his oh-so-awesome FBI issue car?" Brennan laughed along with Angela for what it felt like ages, but it couldn't be more than a couple of seconds. Feeling a lot lighter, she turned her computer off and headed for bed. The day was starting to have its toll on her, and she was feeling very tired.

Slipping under the covers Brennan realized that she wasn't scared anymore. This was her and Booth. And they were the center.

He would be back. He had to come back.