That night Booth didn't allow Brennan to go home. With the distraught state she was in he wanted her, needed her close. To know she was all right, even if he knew she wasn't. The two stayed together on his couch. No words were spoken. There was nothing left to say. Strong, quiet comfort was all he could give her. And she took it.
When she grew tired he set her up in his bed. Ever the gentleman he himself took to sleeping on his couch. Brennan tried to protest; he was sick. But it fell on deaf ears. He just wouldn't let her.
Not that she did much sleeping. For most of the night she laid awake lost in thought. Booth was dying. She'd thought the danger had been over once he'd been rescued away from Brenghause's clutches. But really, it had only been the beginning. And now, now when she was letting herself admit her love for him, she was losing him to a silent predator.
Brennan couldn't imagine not having Booth in her life in any form. He'd been with her for so long that it came naturally. Whenever she needed him, he'd always been there. Always willing to help her with whatever she needed. Always offering a shoulder of support. And where had she been all this time when he'd needed her? Not there, that was for sure.
Hours passed before she wasn't able to take it anymore. Softly she tip toed into the living room where Booth was asleep on the couch. Lights were on all around him. Brennan sighed sadly. Brenghause seemed to keep control over certain aspects of his life no matter how much time had passed.
Booth was sleeping, but it was erratic. He was turned on his side with an pillow on his arm bracing his head. His lips were turned up into a grimace. His breathing would pick up its pace before he'd shift and settle again. From what she could tell he never actually woke up. His dreams were pulling him under like a strong magnet.
It was when he made a sound that resembled a moan that Brennan found herself needing to save him. Caringly she put a hand on his chest. His heart beat was racing severely beneath her hand. She was about to call him when suddenly he balked so hard away from her that the couch slid across the floor a few inches.
The two watched one another. Booth panted, struggling to get his breath back. His eyes softened as he took her in. But the damage had already been done. In that moment Brennan understood why he'd forged such a fast relationship with Debbie. Brennan had no idea what he'd been through. She never would, no matter how many of his experiences he told her.
She remained with him until he drifted off again. Then she returned to her own bed.
In the morning she slept in until late. When she woke for the second time she found Booth gone from the couch. In the kitchen he was bent over his table, both hands out bracing himself. His shoulders heaved. Brennan saw then how lean he had become. "Booth?"
He turned around. Though he smiled she could see the physical pain he was hiding.
"Booth," she started towards him.
"Bones, you gotta promise me something."
She was caught off guard. "What?"
"Angela knows but… don't tell anyone else about this, okay?"
Taken aback, she shook her head. "Booth, they're your friends."
"I know. I'll tell them. Just," he winced and breathed in through his teeth. "Not yet."
Again she found herself drawn to him. Taking her hand into his own, she insisted, "perhaps we can help you. We can find a way to cure this."
"There isn't any way."
"You don't know that. I could get your medical files and-"
He silenced her with a kiss. "Promise me," he whispered against her lips.
She was against it. But she agreed.
***
Neither of them discussed their kiss. Or the second one. Or the ones that followed there after. Nothing between them seemed to change. Yet. Booth wasn't around enough to have anything happen with Brennan. When he wasn't with her at work he was with Debbie as her surgery grew near. Her condition deteriorated. Booth himself was on a steady decline as well.
Brennan tried to get him to take it easy. But it was like attempting to stop a bull. Booth knew two speeds, reckless or sleeping. There was no in between. He pushed himself harder than he should have. Harder than she should have allowed.
And try as hard as he might, he couldn't keep it from showing. The low grade fevers he had been running were beginning to climb higher in degrees. He was winded much easier. Throughout the day Brennan found herself doing more of the work as Booth constantly needed to rest. However, he never complained. For the most part he never made a spectacle of himself. His suffering was done in private.
He still hadn't made a decision regarding the surgery, which frustrated Brennan to no end. If he didn't make a decision soon she knew he wouldn't be strong enough to survive it.
A few days before Debbie's surgery Brennan hadn't been able to find Booth. He hadn't come into the Jeffersonian that morning. All calls to his cell phone went unanswered. Given his illness she worried tremendously. After she checked his apartment to find it empty she headed straight for the Bureau. Deep down she knew Debbie's apartment should have been the next step. But Brennan couldn't bring herself to go there on her own. Booth had left that situation open ended. She hadn't asked him about it.
Thankfully he was in his office. She rapped her knuckles upon the glass door. Her heart sank as she noticed his reaction was delayed. Booth was in pain. He looked at her through the window and motioned her in.
"Hey," she started as she walked through the door. "I've been trying to call you."
"You have?" He seemed disoriented. In fact, he didn't have a clue where his phone was.
Brennan could practically see the fever he was running. His face was flushed and white. He was sweating badly. "Booth, you need to go home. You're sick."
"No." He waved her off. "I can work. I just…" he squinted at the computer screen. "None of this makes sense."
She stepped over to him and felt his forehead. "You have a fever."
His eyes shut. The coolness of her hand felt wonderful against his skin. "I'm okay," he persisted tiredly.
"No. I'm taking you home."
"Bones-"
She didn't know how to feel about him fighting with her. Unexpectedly she found tears in her eyes. Booth really was going to push himself straight into a grave. He was using his job to bury what was happening to him.
"Hey," he stumbled to his feet after noticing her reaction. He pulled her close, leaving his arms around her. "If it really means that much to you then I'll go."
Brennan tried to be objective. But looking at the man literally fading before her eyes, it was difficult. The emotions she kept in a tightly corked bottle came undone. "Why aren't you doing anything?"
"What?"
"Booth, you just keep getting sicker. Why aren't you going through with the surgery?"
His gaze drifted away from her. She could hear his breathing pick up. "Booth."
He blinked back at her.
"You have to do something." She held her emotion in her chest. "I don't want to lose you."
Not a word came from his mouth as he stared down at the floor. He was gone again.
"Booth!"
"You won't lose me," he whispered, raising his eyes back to hers.
A tear fell. "I already am."
Booth couldn't focus on much. The pain in his arm had spread throughout his body over the past few days. But Brennan crying drew his full attention. He tightened his hold on her. They found themselves in a sudden accidental kiss. A gasp caused them to pull away abruptly.
Debbie was standing in the door way. Caught.
Booth looked over Brennan's shoulder and saw her. The woman shook her head and left. Feeling awful Booth left Brennan to give chase. "Deb! Wait!"
He caught up to her at the elevator. The hall was mostly empty, allowing them privacy. "Deb, I can-"
"I should have known." She chuckled sadly in a tearful voice. "I really should have seen this. Men and women can never just be friends." Accusingly, she added, "you've always loved her."
Booth didn't know what to say. Her allegation was true. "I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for this to happen."
Debbie stabbed at the elevator call button. "How long has this been going on? Were you waiting until after my surgery to dump me?"
The floor was growing unsteady. Booth placed a hand against the wall to brace himself. His eyes were just barely staying open.
"How could you do this, Booth? She doesn't love you."
"Yes," he argued back. "She does."
"Then how come she didn't look for you? How come she didn't rescue you from Brenghause? We both know you would have searched God's green earth looking for her and she wasn't even the one to find you."
"She was there. She held me."
"You and I both know she let someone else do all the work finding you."
The elevator came. Debbie stepped inside.
Booth could only watch, powerless to stop her, as the doors closed and she disappeared. Their conversation brought forth a flurry of emotions and questions he hadn't asked himself since the first time he'd kissed Brennan. And now it was too much for his overloaded brain to process. He let go only to drop down onto the floor. Immediately he pushed himself up and rested his back against the wall.
In the distance he thought he could hear someone calling his name. His hearing faded in and out. All over it felt like pins were pricking his body. Breathing heavily, he let his eyes close.
"Booth?"
He opened one eye slightly. Brennan was knelt down in front of him. "We're going home."
Having nothing left to fight with, he just nodded in agreement.