Thanks for your kind reviews to chapter 1. This one picks up in the same episode, but slight time jump — just more of the missing pieces from the finale.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.
Had Booth been conscious, he would have seen Brennan's panic-stricken eyes, wide with fear. "Don't you die." Her voice was frantic and urgent, with a hint of despair. As her fingers worked to strip off his protective vest, she fought the urge to vomit. There's so much blood. Too much blood. Oh Booth.
She rocked back on her heels, fumbling to look around for a phone. "Booth, stay with me. Do you hear me? Stay with me, baby."
"Hello?"
Startled by the voice, Brennan immediately reached to grab whatever was nearby — which happened to be a large piece of wood from what used to be the coffee table.
"Seeley? Hello?"
"Who's there?" She tightened her grip on the makeshift weapon.
"Temperance?" A figure appeared through the hole of their former front door. "It's Will."
"Will." Realizing the voice belonged to their police officer neighbor, Brennan's voice gave away her relief.
"And Shannon," came a female voice.
"Where are you?"
"Near the kitchen."
"What the hell happened?" The sound of crunching glass and debris stopped momentarily. "Is it safe?"
"I think so … hurry. I need help."
"Are you hurt?" Her neighbor came into view, brandishing his gun. "Is anyone else here?"
"No, no, it's just us."
"Oh my god." Shannon clasped a hand over her mouth. "Temperance ... is he …"
"I need a phone," Brennan requested.
"Already called it in," Will stated, kneeling next to Booth. "We pulled onto the street and heard gunshots."
"They'll be here any minute." Shannon tried to be reassuring. "Temperance, what do you need?"
"Towels — something to stop the blood." She pressed her hands back to Booth's chest. "Booth? Stay with me. We've got help."
"Here's good, right?" Will placed his hands near Brennan's on Booth's chest.
"Yes. Apply pressure."
"Here." Shannon had managed to locate a few dishtowels, and Brennan positioned them on Booth's chest. "What else?"
"Hold them to his chest." Brennan looked over at Will, eyeing the gun beside him. "Would you stand outside and watch?"
"Is someone else coming?"
"I don't know." Her voice faltered, and she looked ready to say something else until the wail of sirens interrupted her.
"Oh thank God." Shannon gave a brave smile as Will stood up to move towards the front door. "Seeley, the paramedics are here. Just hang on."
The next few minutes were a blur. A stream of police officers, firefighters, and paramedics filled the downstairs within seconds.
"Who's the homeowner?"
"They are," Will indicated to Brennan and Booth. "Seeley Booth — FBI — and Temperance Brennan."
"Ms. Brennan?" An officer approached Brennan, who was still kneeling by Booth, hands plastered over his wounds. "I'm going to need to ask you a few questions."
"My husband needs medical attention! Now!"
"I can see that, ma'am. Let the paramedics handle it, and let's step outside the house and ..."
"He's dying!" Brennan cried. "If we don't get him help now …"
"I understand, but we need to …"
"Listen, Drews." Glancing at the officer's badge, Will stepped between him and Brennan. "You must be new or something, but did you not hear me earlier? This man is an FBI agent. Get him and his wife in the ambulance. Now. You question her later."
"I have orders to …"
"Booth!" Brennan reached as the paramedics lifted him onto a stretcher. "I need to go with him."
"That's not possible, ma'am. Like I said …"
"I'm calling your superior. Right now." Will pulled out his cell phone.
"Listen here, I'm an officer …"
"And so am I. Now shut up and let Dr. Brennan join her husband."
"Look man, I don't like it either, but I'm under strict orders not to …"
"Temperance," Shannon hissed quietly. "Go. Before they make you stay. Go."
Before the officers could notice or stop her, Brennan took Shannon's advice and slipped out the front door, following on the heels of the paramedics.
A kind nurse finally escorted a shell-shocked Brennan out the CCU's hall and back to the East Wing waiting room. "Dr. Brennan, do you have someone to stay with you while your husband is in surgery?"
She shook her head.
"Would you like me to sit with you for a minute?"
"I'm OK," Brennan whispered hoarsely.
"I know." The nurse smiled. "Could I get you anything? Water? Can I call anyone for you?"
"Someone's … on the way." She didn't actually know that, but Brennan knew it was only a matter of time before Angela or Cam walked through the hospital doors.
"OK. Don't hesitate to ask at the front desk if you need anything. I'll let you know if I hear anything."
"Thank you."
Brennan was right — she barely had ten minutes before Angela, Hodgins, Cam, Caroline, and Sweets all came through the doors of Roosevelt Memorial's CCU area. She couldn't get any words out to Angela, who immediately enveloped her in a tight embrace. After half a minute, Brennan pulled away from Angela, whose concern-filled face studied the haggard and desperate expression of her best friend.
"Sweetie."
As if on cue, Brennan began to sob.
Once again, Angela reached to embrace her, allowing Brennan to bury her head on her shoulder. "It's OK. Go ahead … get it all out."
While Cam approached the front desk to see about obtaining information, Hodgins and Sweets sat quietly as Angela and Caroline attempted to console Brennan, who didn't let go of Angela for several minutes. When her shuddering sobs finally ceased, Angela took the opportunity to get her outside the waiting room.
"Let's go get your hands and face cleaned up." Angela suggested as she gently lifted Brennan's chin. "You think you need stitches there?"
"N-no." Brennan wiped her eyes and followed Angela to the bathroom area. "It's not deep."
"Maybe we'll get Cam to look at it just to be sure." Angela held open the door and let Brennan enter first. "What happened? To your chin, I mean."
"I got thrown into the dishwasher." She reached for a Kleenex on the counter to blow her nose. "Kicked into it, actually."
"Guess I better check your ribs and stomach, too." Angela took several paper towels and ran them under the sink. "Here, let's take care of your face first." Gingerly, she dabbed cold water on Brennan's chin, cheeks, and under her eyes. "Anything else hurt?"
"Just my chin."
"Good." Angela pointed at the sink. "Splash some water on your face to rinse it off."
Brennan dutifully obeyed, and Angela presented her with clean and dry paper towels to dry her face. "Next up – your hands need a good scrub." She grabbed the soap dispenser and squeezed a healthy amount onto Brennan's fingers. "Lather up."
"Oh." Brennan gazed at her extremities, still stained with blood.
"Slip your rings off and I'll clean them while you scrub." Angela held out her hand for Brennan's jewelry.
"OK." Brennan wiggled the two rings off her fingers. "I feel like a child. I can't even think."
"That's OK," Angela assured her, already working on cleansing Brennan's wedding band. "I'll think for you right now. You're just in a shock for a bit."
"Ang." Brennan's voice dropped to a near whisper. "I don't know if he's going to …"
"Stop it." Firmly, Angela cut off her best friend. "We're not talking about that right now. He's in surgery, and we're going to wait until we hear from the doctors. Don't rush into anything."
"But I saw him. He was bleeding out … right under my hands."
"Brennan …"
The bathroom door opening interrupted Angela, and Cam mercifully cut off their conversation. "Caroline wanted me to check on you two."
"Good. Cam can check you for bruises. That's really not my area of expertise unless it's my kid."
"I'm fine," Brennan tried to protest.
"Well, we're checking you anyway." Cam gazed at Brennan's face. "Your chin OK? How hard did you hit it? Concussion?"
"No." Brennan shook her head, and then realized she might need to reconsider. "I, uh, I don't think so."
"Guess we'll be watching your responses and checking for headaches tonight." Cam gently touched near Brennan's chin. "This will be tender for a bit. Good news is it's not deep enough for stitches."
"Check her ribs," Angela requested.
"May I?" Cam reached for Brennan's shirt hemline, and Brennan let out an exasperated sigh. "I promise, I'll be quick."
"Fine." Brennan raised her arms to help Cam get a better look.
"Yikes. Little bruising there."
"Yeah." Brennan sucked in a breath as Cam gently touched the area. "That's what happens when you get roundhouse kicked into a dishwasher."
"Nothing broken?" Cam questioned.
"No." Brennan readjusted her hemline. "It's sore, but not unbearable."
"Good."
The group spent several hours in the waiting room, barely saying anything to each other. When the doctor finally appeared, Brennan bounded up out of her seat and immediately bombarded him with questions.
"There is one problem, Dr. Brennan." The doctor looked hesitant.
"What kind of problem?"
Brow furrowing, Hodgins immediately narrowed his eyes, suspicious. Instinctively, he put a hand on Angela's lower back.
"Someone will be out in a minute to talk to you. Until then, I think it's important …"
Just as she had done earlier in the night at her own home, Brennan stopped listening and bolted through the open door into the critical care unit. Finding her way through the unfamiliar corridor, it only took her half a minute to find him.
"Booth." She let out a relieved exhale.
For the hundredth time that night, everything became a blur. She found herself asking why Booth was handcuffed, and suddenly she was being roughly escorted out of the room.
"Take Dr. Brennan into custody for questioning."
"No!" Snapping out of her daze and defaulting back to her years of martial arts training, Brennan deftly pulled her wrist out of the grasp of one of the agents who was clearly preparing to handcuff her. "No! No, I need to stay with him! Booth!"
"Get her out!"
"Booth! Booth!" She saw his eyes flutter open. "Let go of me!"
"Get her out!" came the repeated order.
"Booth! Booth!" she continued to scream his name, unsuccessfully fighting to release herself from the grip of the two agents hauling her out of the room, past the nurses' station toward the exit doors. "Help!"
Going right back through the very doors that had given her entrance, the agents nearly dragged Brennan through the hall and into the waiting room.
"Brennan!" Angela lunged for her.
"Ang!"
"Ma'am, do not inhibit a federal investigation!" came the order from one of the agents.
"She didn't do anything!" Angela managed to get a hand on Brennan's shoulder, and it was immediately slapped away.
"Angie, no!" Hodgins wrapped his arms around his wife, pulling her away from the officers. "Let her go!"
"No! Let go of me!" Angela struggled in his grasp, and Sweets quickly joined to assist Hodgins.
"Hodgins, hold her tight — do not let her attack those agents!" Caroline's booming voice carried throughout the waiting room. "Where are you taking her?"
"Caroline! Don't let them take me!" Brennan's eyes were wild, and she fought with everything she had left in her exhausted system.
"I'm her lawyer! Where are you taking her?" Caroline demanded.
"Contact the FBI. She's under arrest."
"What?" Sweets exclaimed.
"Bullshit," Cam spat. "Someone screwed up your orders. Let her go."
"Can't do that." With that, the officers mustered up enough strength to get Brennan out of the door, as Caroline followed at their heels.
"Let me go!" Angela shrieked, trying her best to slap both her husband and Sweets, who still restrained her. "I've got to go to her! She can't leave him!"
"Sir?" The attendant at the front desk approached Sweets. "I'm going to have to ask your group to leave. You can't cause a disturbance like this."
"Figured … sorry." Sweets glanced at Hodgins. "Let's get outside."
By the time they got outside, Brennan was already inside a van and pulling away. Caroline merely had a dejected look on her face, and Angela, now free from Sweets, began to beat her closed fists against Hodgins.
"Why did you do that to me!?"
"Angie. Shh."
"Why?!"
"Keep her quiet or they're going to ban us from the property," Cam warned Hodgins.
"Angela. Baby, please be quiet. I know you're mad."
"We couldn't have you get arrested," Sweets began.
"Shut up!" she screamed.
"We need to get out of here," Cam began walking toward Caroline, who was walking toward the parking garage. Sweets followed suit, trailing just behind Angela and Hodgins.
As she walked, stoic Caroline pulled out her phone, dialed, and waited for a moment in silence. "Get me any charges brought against Dr. Temperance Brennan. Now."
The group, save Angela, who was still furiously berating Hodgins, grew silent as they waited for Caroline's news. When she came to a halt and ended the phone call, the group stopped walking. Angela became quiet and finally stopped yelling, letting her tears begin to flow instead of her cursing.
"What is it?" Cam broke the silence.
"Arrested." Caroline heaved a sigh.
"For what?"
"Fleeing the scene of a crime, obstruction of justice, and …" Caroline's voice wavered, "… voluntary manslaughter."
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