In the morning Brennan woke before he did. Sometime during the night the two had ended up on their sides facing one another cuddled close. Booth's arm was around her waist. Feeling pleased, she kissed his lips faintly. He didn't stir.

While he slept she critically looked him over for the first time since he'd been in the hospital. For the most part all his wounds had healed beautifully. The only evidence that still remained were scars that the more severe burns had left behind. Of course, the psychological damage was still strongly present. If it hadn't been for her she was sure Booth would have kept up his routine of sleeping in the light with the television playing. If he hadn't of been so tired maybe he would have even after they'd been intimate. She liked to think that wasn't true.

She ran her hand over his skin until she reached the tumor on his arm. There she stopped, losing her breath. Booth really hadn't allowed her to look at his body for too long while they'd been together. His arm was evidence why. The area all around the tumor was bruised. The dark colors spread in both directions, covering his shoulder and wrapping around part of his chest, and leading down to his elbow. Brennan hesitantly ran her forefinger over the section. He breathed in through his teeth, his face twisting up. She immediately stopped.

Booth's eyes blinked open. Brennan felt a strike of guilt. "Sorry."

He shrugged.

She could see behind his calm expression that she'd caused him pain. "How do you feel?"

Again, he shrugged.

"Booth."

"It hurts, Bones." His voice was hoarse. "And every day it just hurts more."

"Just one more day. Tomorrow you'll have the surgery and be fine."

"Lets not talk about it." He scooted down under the blankets. Within minutes he'd fallen back asleep.

Brennan could feel how warm his body was. Fever. She frowned. "Just one more day," she repeated to herself.

***

The rest of the day had a strange feeling to it. Booth mostly kept to himself. Brennan left him alone with his thoughts. There was nothing she could think of to say that could erase the anxiety he must have been feeling. Yes, Debbie had pulled through without any hitches. But there was still so much at risk. There was still so much unknown.

Later on in the afternoon Brennan had busied herself on Booth's couch keeping in touch with any work happening in the Jeffersonian through email. From the messages she was receiving, it didn't seem as though either of them were missing much. A crash in the kitchen took a moment to penetrate through her concentration. When it did, she blinked as though waking from a dream. "Booth?"

There was no answer. Quick she was to rise and follow the clatter into the kitchen. Booth was on the floor, legs folded underneath him as he feebly trying to push himself back up. She rushed to his aid. "What happened?" She knelt down besides him.

"I was trying to make soup," he explained through haggard breathing. His face was as pale as a ghost's.

He'd collapsed. He was too weak.

Brennan carefully helped him to his feet. Together they limped into the bedroom where she laid him down on top of his sheets. Without needing to check she knew his fever had risen. Down besides him she sat.

Booth tried to wiggle out of the shirt he was wearing. Brennan helped him pull it off. He quietly settled down. To the side his head tilted as he closed his eyes. Unfortunately his breathing hadn't eased any.

Brennan started to touch his forehead when her eyes became drawn to his arm. Specifically, the tumor. "Booth," she found herself saying. "I don't think you should go through with the surgery tomorrow."

"Have to," he mumbled.

"No, you don't. You're sick. It can wait another week."

His stare back into her eyes was haunting. "No, Bones. I can't."

Her understanding left her breathless. Booth didn't think he'd live another week.

"I don't want to feel like this anymore," he slurred, shutting his eyes again.

She whispered her promise. "You won't."

While he drifted off she wondered how he really felt. How much he hadn't told her. Just how much time did he have left?

***

Booth slept through the entire night. Brennan didn't disturb him. In the morning the two ran through the motions. Both of them were too preoccupied with their own thoughts. Though his fever was down Booth still had a small one. There was no telling if the surgery would be performed or not. And Brennan wasn't sure how to feel about it.

They arrived at the hospital at the appointed hour. Booth was separated from Brennan. She was left alone in a waiting room while he was taken behind thick double doors to be prepped. A silly early morning talk show was playing on a small television mounted in the corner of the room. Though she tried to focus on it she couldn't. Her worry was stabbing a hole through her gut. Why couldn't they have just left them together?

Dr. Paxton sent for her not after long. The two fell into step in the hall way leading down to where Booth was waiting. "The surgery will take somewhere between four and six hours."

"So you're going ahead with it? Even though he's feverish?"

"Yes. It's at ninety nine point nine." The doctor's face turned grave. "I don't think it'll go down any more."

Another piercing stab. "Can I see him before he goes in?"

"Of course. He's been asking for you."

Dr. Paxton dropped her off in Booth's room. He then left to scrub up. Brennan went to Booth's bedside. It appeared as though he was sleeping. However when she touched his hand he looked at her.

"Hi."

"Hey," he coughed. "I already got the anesthetic. Will you stay with me till I fall under?"

"Sure - of course." As if there any where else she'd go.

Booth seemed to already be losing the battle to stay awake. He looked pensive. Upset.

"You're going to be fine. I really trust Dr. Paxton." She tried.

He was silent.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking Brenghause is probably laughing his ass off at me right now."

"Booth, that's impossible. He's dead."

"You know what I mean, Bones."

"No. I don't." She shook her head. "You're alive and he isn't. You lived through everything he tried to take away from you. You should be the one laughing, if he were still alive."

A smile crept across his face. It disappeared as his eyelids fluttered closed.

Heart hammering in her chest, Brennan tentatively pressed her lips against Booth's. He kissed back, until she felt him slip. "You'll be fine," she hushed into his ear.

Transportation appeared then to take him into surgery. Brennan stepped aside, helpless to watch as he was wheeled away.