Booth was woken in the early hours of the next morning by his phone ringing. He turned over and picked it up, rubbing his eyes with his spare hand.
"Hello?"
"Agent Booth?" It was Zack.
"Yeah?" Booth sat up at the worry he heard in the squint's voice.
"I… sorry to bother you so late… I just…"
"Hey," Booth cut in, hearing the panic Zack was feeling. "It's fine. What's wrong?"
"I... Can I talk to you, please?"
"Sure," Booth said gently, already getting out of bed. "You wanna come here?"
"If you don't mind."
"No, that's fine," Booth replied, keeping his tone soft and comforting. "You just get here safe, ok?"
"Ok. Thanks Agent Booth." Before Booth could reply, Zack had hung up. Listening to the dial tone absentmindedly for a moment, Booth sighed. If Zack needed to talk, Booth needed to get dressed.
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Booth answered the door to an almost terrified looking Zack.
"Zack," He said quietly. "Are you ok?"
"Agent Booth," Zack tried to smile, but it was weak. "Thank you for letting me come here so late."
"It's no problem," Booth smiled softly. "And you can stop calling me Agent Booth. Just plain Booth will do." Zack nodded. Booth noticed the slight shiver going through Zack, although he didn't think it was a shiver. Zack was shaking.
"Come and sit down," Booth said quickly, shutting the door behind Zack. "I'll make us something to drink."
"Thank you," Zack said, his voice still deathly quiet. Sighing inwardly at the state Zack was in, Booth poured them a drink and sat next to the younger man.
"Here," Booth said quietly, handing Zack a glass. "Drink this; it'll help calm you down." Zack nodded, taking the glass in his still shaking hands. Booth searched Zack's face carefully, unsure of how to start talking to him. The young man looked like he was about to cry at any moment.
"I'm sorry to be bothering you with this," Zack sighed eventually. Booth shook his head quickly.
"It's no bother," He smiled. "Just tell me what's wrong." Booth looked worriedly into Zack's eyes, and immediately saw something break under his gentle gaze. Slowly, Zack closed his eyes, as tears began to slowly stream from them. Booth sighed lightly. Letting his instincts take over, Booth edged closer to Zack and pulled the younger man into a gentle hug.
"Hey," He whispered, softly stroking Zack's hair. "It's alright. Just tell me what's wrong. It'll be ok, I promise." Zack pulled away at these words, his tears still flowing.
"How?" Zack whispered hoarsely. "How can you promise?"
"Zack, just tell me what it is," Booth whispered back, placing a hand gently on Zack's shoulder. "I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong." Zack nodded slowly, reaching up to wipe the tears from his face. Looking again into Booth's eyes, Zack's voice became little more than a whisper.
"I'm scared, Booth. I know it's totally irrational, but I'm terrified. I don't want to go… I don't want to die." Booth sighed softly, reaching up to wipe the last of Zack's tears away.
"It's not too late," He whispered softly. "You don't have to go." Zack shook his head.
"But I promised," He said, his voice becoming panicked. "What about everything you say, about honour and…"
"There's no honour in death," Booth replied quickly, his tone becoming serious. "Honour comes from the good things you do in your life. And you're doing great things, right here. You don't need to risk your life to be a hero." Zack sighed heavily, nodding, as tears threatened to fall again. Seeing this, Booth immediately pulled Zack back into a hug.
"It'll be ok, Zack," He whispered. Zack nodded, pulling away slightly to look at Booth.
"Thank you," He smiled, weak but genuine.
"Don't mention it," Booth smiled back. "Listen, why don't you stay here tonight. I can drop you off at the Jeffersonian tomorrow." Zack nodded, and Booth smiled once more before getting up, letting Zack lie down on the sofa. Walking away and turning off the light, Booth stood there, in the doorway; until he was sure Zack was asleep.