Booth's prayer halted as two soft hands slipped over his shoulders, fingers gently gripping and releasing. He inhaled deeply through his nose. He could smell her perfume. It helped mute the antiseptic odour that hung heavy in the room.

"Amen"

His hands parted and covered hers, his fingers wrapping around hers, pulling them to his mouth, where he pressed warm kisses into her palms. His eyes opened, as she leaned forwards. Her hair formed a veil over his face for a moment, then her lips were on his. Her breath intertwined with his.

The only sound in the room was the regular beeping of the machines monitoring Pops.

Booth managed to block them out for a moment. But it was short lived. Brennan pulled away. Her hands slipping across his cheeks and ears as she moved.

"I spoke to his specialist" she said as she pulled a chair next to his and sat down.

Booth pushed his hands between his knees and nodded, his bottom lip pushed out. He tilted his head slightly. Just enough so he could see her.

Brennan cleared her throat as she thought about how to tell Booth what she had learned. "Do you want me to tell you the good news or the bad news first?" she asked. She was attempting to lighten the mood. It didn't really work.

"You mean there is some good news?" Booth asked, trying to smile.

She shook her head involuntarily.

He turned away and looked at his grandfather. "He looks different, don't you think? His face is kind of rubbery. Why is that?" he turned back to her.

"Booth." she swallowed and her tongue flicked across her lips. "The good news is that he's not in any pain. He's comfortable." Brennan said softly.

Booth pulled one hand out from between his knees and held it out to Brennan. She took it and clasped it between both hands, resting them on her knee.

"While I was waiting for the coffee" she started to say.

"Coffee?" Booth asked, looking around.

Brennan jumped up from her chair, dropping his hand "Sorry, yes. I put them down when I first came in the room. You were praying, and I didn't want to interrupt" she walked over to the shelf underneath the long window and picked up the two large cups of coffee. She handed him one and sat down again. "It's not the best coffee. But it's hot" she said smiling. "Where was I? Oh yes, while I was waiting in line I remembered reading about a study. I looked it up on my phone and quickly read through it. The Controlled Trial of Familiar Auditory Sensory Training for Acute Severe Traumatic Brain Injuries, where researchers created audio recordings of family members telling a familiar story that the patients heard four times a week for six weeks. They gauged how the blood oxygen levels in the brain changed while listening to recordings by exposing patients to both familiar and unfamiliar voices telling different stories while in an MRI at baseline. Families of coma patients sat down with therapists to discuss at least eight important stories that would resonate with their loved ones. They believe hearing those stories in parents' and siblings' voices exercises the circuits in the brain responsible for long-term memories," Brennan spoke slowly, so Booth could follow. "That stimulation helped trigger the first glimmer of awareness in a percentage of these patients. At the end of the six weeks MRI scans revealed the patients' brains increased in neural activity when they heard a loved one calling out their name and telling a memorable story."

Booth frowned at her. "So what are you saying? I should record stories?"

Brennan shook her head, frustrated that she couldn't just make him understand what she was trying to say. "No. I'm saying that he can probably hear you. Us. Even now as we're talking. The mere sound of our voices, could be resonating with him. But mostly, your voice Booth. You're his Shrimp. You mean everything to him. He has lived his life always for you." Her voice trailed off.

Booth was sitting, staring at Pops. "So, do you know why he looks rubbery?" he asked.

Brennan frowned, then smiled to herself. Typical Booth. He was diverting. She sighed "Well, he's lying down, so all the loose skin reacts to gravity and pulls downwards. As for the err, rubbery look? I suppose that's because his colour isn't very good. His circulation is poor. Blood is probably not reaching everywhere it should" she stopped speaking. Blood wasn't circulating to his brain properly was what she was about to say. "Just talk to him Booth. Tell him all the things you want to say. Do it now, while you can. If he doesn't. If"

"If he doesn't wake up? You think he won't wake up, don't you?" he asked.

Brennan shrugged "There's always hope" she said.

Booth felt the corner of his mouth tug upwards. "That's my line"

Brennan smiled and took a sip of coffee.

"OK. So" he took a long swig of coffee. Sputtered, and looked at the cup, then at Brennan "This is supposed to be coffee?" he said.

Brennan started to giggle. He felt the laughter start to bubble in his chest and work it's way up to his mouth. He opened his mouth and laughed. Loudly. Strongly. It was a pure, clear laugh.

He turned to his grandfather "You're actually lucky right now Pops. There's no way you would want to be drinking this stuff they call coffee. First thing in the morning, we're going out to buy a coffee machine. I'll set it up over there in the corner. There's nothing like the smell of freshly brewed good coffee, is there Pops?" He look at Brennan grinning "Pops always said that it was the smell of Gran's coffee that really woke him up in the mornings. Even if he'd been out of bed for an hour, he was sleep walking until he smelled her coffee".

He looked round the hospital room "And I think we'll go pick up a few of your things. You might be here for a little while. Might as well make it a bit more homey. Whaddayasay?" he nodded, taking another mouthful of the coffee/swill, grimacing and laughing again.

Brennan leaned back in her seat and smiled. He'd get through this. And when it was time. She'd be right beside him to hold him up and steady his hand. For now. For now she would let him just be with his grandfather for as long as it took.

Booth took out his notebook and started making notes about the things he needed to get. He talked each item through with Hank. His voice was clear and strong. He made a joke and patted the old man's arm, letting his hand lie there, his fingers gently gripping his grandfathers forearm.

Brennan remained seated. Quiet. Answering Booth if a question was directed to her. Offering advice when needed. Booth soon had a comprehensive list of things he wanted to do straight after they left the hospital, and in the morning before they returned. He looked at his watch and stood up. Leaning over he kissed his grandfather on the forehead.

"Gotta get going Pops. We are going to stay at the hotel down the road, so if you need us, well, the nurse will be able to contact us quickly. I'm going to go to the nursing home this evening and pick up your things. Did you want me to let the girls know how you are? I will any way. They should know. They're probably missing you in dance class. See you in the morning Pops." he said, patting Hanks shoulder.

"Ooh! Remind me to grab a nice blanket from the store while we're there in the morning. Pops doesn't like these cotton weave blankets. Remember when he was in hospital for his prostate thing? He hated that blanket. It was never warm enough he said." he said to Brennan as they walked down the corridor towards the exit. He pulled out his notebook and jotted a note about the blanket in it.

Brennan knew that this was Booth's coping mechanism kicking in. It was tinged with denial, but that was how it would have to be for now.