Thanks for bearing with me, guys!

This is actually my last chapter for this story. I wrote it in a bit of a rush, so I know it could be a lot better. but oh well :) Would love to hear your reviews - whether it be for this chapter or the whole story!

Thanks so much all of you for sticking with me xx

Brennan watched with agitation as the elders sat beneath the overgrown tree, deep in discussion, its leaves shadowing their weathered faces. Her hands trembled in Booth's as she sat beside him, her pulse beating loud and fast, as though supplying both her blood and Booth's.

Booth hadn't moved a muscle since she had left, nor since they had injected the antidote. Brennan wasn't one to think the worst of things, but she had to force herself to admit that hope was almost lost.

There was a chance the anti-venom would work, that it would clean his blood, that his eyes would open, his magnificent chest rise and fall once more.

She struggled to control herself, to not shout at the elders to hurry and make their decision. As soon as she had returned with the antidote, she had harassed them into a corner, forcing them to see that the only way Booth would survive was if he was flown to hospital.

But it seemed the tribe, though they would be sorry to lose the soldier, were not prepared to risk their location, nor dispose of so much effort to help a single man.

Hence the meeting beneath the tree.

But every passing second was a second lost. Brennan watched Booth's delicate face, the thick grime motionless as his face remained still. She lifted her hand, swiping some of the muck off gently, revealing the thin layer of stubble that lay beneath.

She wondered, as she had continuously over the past hour, why she cared for him so much, why she was so determined for him to see tomorrow. She barely knew the man! True, she was grateful that he had saved her life, that he had rescued her from the hell-hole that she had been confined in, but why was she on the verge of tears at the thought of him dying?

Was it the fact that he had put himself through so much pain – the bullet, the beatings, the snake bite – just to make sure she was safe? Or that he risked his own life so she could live a peaceful one?

Her thoughts became as jumbled as an unsorted jigsaw puzzle, which was uncommon for Brennan's brain. She squeezed Booth's hand tighter, and took an enormous breath, emitting a dry sob when she realised how foolish she was acting.

Glancing at her broken watch, she saw that at least six hours had passed since Booth had been brought into the camp. And she had no idea how long he had been waiting in the jungle.

It was at least a 2 hour flight to the nearest hospital.

A haunted tear trickled down her face as she came to terms with herself. Even as she felt Booth's hands grow colder beneath her own worn and cut ones, she still tried to deny herself, to squeeze warmth back into them, to imagine his chest rising and falling as he took shallow breaths.

She bowed her head, breathing deeply, trying to force back her tears for the man she barely knew. Regretted questions began to fly around her head. She hadn't even bothered to ask how old he was, or if he had children, or even his favourite flavour of ice cream.

You never had time to ask him, a small voice told her consolingly.

And the biggest pain that was gripping her heart was that she knew it was her fault. All of it.

It was his choice.

Yes, but she could have just died and saved him the trouble. She had been half dead anyway.

That just proves what kind of person he was.

Brennan sighed and pushed herself away from the table. She was angry and hurt, mostly at herself. At her actions, her thoughts, and her emotions. She worked with the dead! She shouldn't be so emotional. She never had been...before him...

She glanced once more over to the decision tree. The elders were glancing surreptitiously at her, as though wondering whether to let her in on a juicy secret.

She looked towards the natives, who were running about their own duties, free from the confines of death, their only care being to collect water or sweep their hut-mats.

She looked at her feet, now tightly wrapped, a thick yellow paste oozing from beneath the bandages.

She knew what she had to do. What she should have done all along.

She walked to the edge of the jungle, plucking a native flower from its home, and placed it on Booth's naked chest. She bent down and kissed his lips, before turning her back on him and walking out into the jungle.

She could feel the gawking expressions of the tribe behind her, but she didn't turn around. She had caused enough trouble.

She was exhausted. She had no clue of what was to happen next.

She continued to walk blindly, unsure of where she was headed; if she was entering the tent embassy or just stumbling deeper into the forest.

But her thoughts were mixed together, unable to discern two trees apart, let alone a similar path to the one they had taken only a day before.

She had no idea how long she had walked for. All she knew was that her feet, arms, body and heart were aching beyond belief, and how much she would prefer a nice cold shower. The heat was sticking her clothes to her uncomfortably, but she could barely feel it. All she could feel was pain.

She eventually stumbled out onto an open plain, and she recognised it as a short way away from the scientist campsite. She knew nothing of her fate, but recognised civilisation, water and a small amount of comfort. Barely thinking, she dragged her feet until they took her to the campsite.

Amazingly, they took her in. They recognised her as the victim of the 'snake bite', and were willing to help mend her, believing her to be mad, or at least mentally unhealthy, perhaps changed by the jungle.

They immediately flew her back to Washington, believing that she still may have the bite, and this was shown in their downcast faces, as they appeared to believe that she had no hope left.

She obliged with their every step, too exhausted to do anything but comply.

The flight was long and tiring. She slept on the rubbery chairs, her dreams filled with venomous snakes, and a flailing Booth. She woke up in a cold sweat, despite the compressing heat surrounding her.

The next few days went in a blur, yet timelessly slow at the same time. She was transported to hospital, where they patched up all her injuries, muttering darkly underneath their breaths as they guessed the cause of the cuts and breaks, but no one came close to the truth.

Her brain continued to be filled with vile thoughts of snakes, and regrets about leaving Booth behind. She told the doctors to collect him, but they believed her to be muttering uselessly, and ignored the pleas, trying to soothe her instead.

They let her out of the hospital after a week, and she returned to work to a confused and concerned group of co-workers, all asking to hear her story, to discuss how she received so many scars. She was mute, though, her words coming out in mutterings, in short streams of incoherent syllables.

She eventually got over it. She pushed back the thought of her 'partner', of his death, the image of his body lying uselessly on the makeshift table. She knew there was little she could do, and could have done, and rationally decided to move on.

It was not without consequences, though. Dreams continued to haunt her sleep, and she often woke up, lonely and afraid, a rare feeling to her innocent body.

She knew her life had changed because of that one man.

Seeley Booth.

Well, I bet Im gonna get a few hate reviews :)

Sorry, guys, didnt want to kill him off, but sometimes you just gotta do something a bit different, you know?

And I apologise all those who got bored - not my best chapter.

As I said, please review! Would love to hear comments for the chapter/story.

Thanks everyone! xx