Sorry to keep you waiting with a cliffy darlings :S

x G

32. It's Ground Zero

"How long has she been out for?"

"Nearly twenty minutes."

"Cam's gone to the crime scene."

"How many casualties?"

"We don't know yet."

"Honey, I'm worried - if that explosion didn't wake her up, then she needs to go to the hospital-"

"Her hand moved…"

Brennan registered the anxious words of her friends, although she couldn't determine which voice belonged to whom - caught halfway between a groggy kind of slumber, a blackness and reality, she wasn't certain whether she was in a dream or not.

"She's coming to." Wendell?

Her eyes dragged open, and she stared into a blinding light. "What happened…?" she slurred, trying to sit up.

"Woah, take it easy," Hodgins cautioned, watching her with great concern. "You hit your head pretty hard."

"What happened?" she repeated, with as much firmness as she could manage.

Wendell, Hodgins and Angela all exchanged glances.

"Genny came to the lab, and told you that Booth had been in a car accident," Wendell reminded her gently. "The shock of it all made you lose consciousness."

The memories overcame her in a great wave. "Booth," she choked, eyes full. "Booth! Is he…?"

Angela put an arm tightly around her. "Sweetie…they have him at the hospital-"

Brennan hardly processed her words. "I have to go to him," she said suddenly, forcing her wayward body onto trembling feet.

"Bren, maybe you should-" Angela's pleas were lost, as Brennan stumbled towards the door. "You're not driving," she ordered lowly, catching up with her, and grasping her arm.

"No," Brennan said in a detached tone. "You are."

"I am." Hodgins put in quickly.

Brennan was already running.

- ~ B&B ~ -

Hodgins drove carefully - so not as to break the speed limit - but the muscles in his arms bulged from the strength exerted from his tense shoulders. His fingers - which gripped the steering wheel tightly - where almost white. When he made the turn to take a detour away from the main intersection, Brennan yelled for him to brake; her eyes glued to a formation of black smoke that clouded the blue sky.

"What is it?" she demanded.

Neither Hodgins or Angela answered.

"What is all that smoke?" Brennan barely whispered.

"Ground Zero," Hodgins finally responded.

Brennan swallowed hard. "Go. Now."

Angela exhaled nervously. "Bren, I'm not sure if we should-"

"Now!"

Hodgins exchanged a nervous glance with his wife, and did a U-turn.

None of them were ready for what they pulled up to.

Two dozen cars scattered the intersection, many charred, overturned, and with flames licking up what they could. Small maple trees on the nature strips were coloured black. Glass covered a hundred square meters. Debris. Metal.

Brennan flung the door open and staggered to the centre of the chaos.

"Bren!" Angela called out, but it was her husband who reached Brennan first and encased her in his arms.

"Tempe, c'mon." He attempted to pull her back to the car. "C'mon."

Brennan heaved, close to tears. "He…you said they have him at the hospital…not that he…is…there…so he…isn't al-" She cut off, spying something a further away from where the first vehicle had exploded.

Booth's SUV lay on its side, yards away. From where she was, it appeared to be just as all the other cars were.

Tearing herself from Jack's arms, she ran towards it.

It had been touched by the fire.

Brennan felt her knees buckle beneath her. "No!" She shook her head in denial, lowering towards the ground. "No…no…no…"

Hodgins had her again before she fully reached the bitumen. "Tempe -"

"Not Booth," she mumbled incoherently, repeatedly. "Not Booth. No him. No. Anyone but him."

Hodgins gripped underneath her arms and lifted her up from the ground.

"No!" Brennan cried - though her friends weren't sure whether she meant it for her partner, or because she didn't want to leave the crash site.

But then she became stricken with a different agony. Trembling, Brennan cried out and doubled over, clutching her abdomen.

Angela witnessed the transformation in terror. "Get her in the car, now!" She yelled to her husband. "Get her…get her…" Scooping her up so she was in his arms, Hodgins rushed her to the back seat of the car, where Angela then held her. "The hospital" - was all his wife could manage.

"Ange," Brennan whimpered. "Ange it hurts."

"Shh, it's okay Sweetie, everything's okay," her friend whispered tearfully, stroking her hair. "We're nearly there. Just close your eyes. We'll be there soon. It's okay."

Brennan squeezed her eyes closed, and breathed deeply.

"You're gonna be fine," Angela murmured thickly. "All three of you."

Please, Brennan pleaded silently - and it wasn't to the universe.

- ~ B&B ~ -

The anthropologist woke with a start, a hand protectively gripping her womb.

"Hey, Sweetie," Angela whispered, restraining her friend with a cool hand. "Lay back. You're safe."

Brennan turned her head to face her friend. "Am I…? Did I lose-?"

"The baby's fine," she replied gently, then paused. "You were lucky."

"Baby," Brennan murmured, and stared straight ahead, leaning into the pillows.

Everything came back to her at once. "Booth!" She gasped suddenly.

The restraining hand tightened. "You need to stay where you are," Angela told her. "Booth is in recovery. They have him under a sedative; we tried to tell you, but you were hysterical. I'm sorry."

Brennan closed her eyes, and exhaled, allowing the information to sink in. "You shouldn't be the one apologising, Angela," she said eventually. Her eyes flickered open, and caught her friend's stare.

Angela shook her head. "You don't have to go there, Bren. It's okay."

"But it isn't," Brennan responded firmly. "Whenever I do something…or say something…or something happens to me, someone else always ends up paying for it. And it's you, almost every time. I always hurt you, Ange, and I never apologise for it."

Angela's hand relaxed. "Don't blame yourself for things you can't control."

Brennan stared at her hands. "I do; I do blame me - because I control them," she disagreed. "Every decision I make - every bad decision - and every secret…? It's me. All me. And you stand by me."

Angela wiped her eyes with a free hand.

"Come here," Brennan begged. "I feel like I can't sit up."

Her friend leant over, and the two managed an embrace the best they could between Angela's the baby bump.

"I know it doesn't seem like it - what, with everything that goes on," she continued, "but I…owe you so much…I can't measure it with words, or logical explanations…but some crazy friend of mine once told me, that 'a friend is someone who reaches for your hand, but touches your heart'. You have mine, Ange. Unconditionally."

Again, Angela wiped her eyes. "Stop, you're making my hormones go on overdrive."

"You look exhausted," said Brennan, emitting her own condition. "You should go home."

Her friend did not disagree, though she was rueful to leave her alone. "I'll be back tomorrow morning," she promised. "And I'll send for a nurse on the way out, so you can get something to eat-"

"Really, Ange. It isn't necessary for you to do that; I wouldn't be able to keep anything down anyway," Brennan reasoned.

Though she was skeptical, Angela submitted, and with a tight squeeze of the hand, she departed.

Brennan closed her eyes, momentarily, and much to her surprise, opened them much later. Straining her eyes through the dark room, she discovered that the moon was at its apex, and the world beyond her hospital room glowed with city night-lights. Cautiously, and slowly, Brennan put both feet over the side of her bed. The hospital camisole she wore gave little defence against the chill of the coming winter. Taking her windcheater from a neatly folded pile of clothing in the corner of the room, Brennan slipped on her socks, and stuck her head out into the hallway. Deserted for the night, there was not a soul to witness her. Moving towards the receptionists' desk, she moved around to the computer. Her hand froze as it brushed a coffee cup - lukewarm - but when she had inspected the area once again for residents, and was satisfied that she was safe enough, Brennan leant towards the screen, and took hold of the mouse. Entering onto the patient database - which had been carelessly left open (she assumed that its tender was visiting the bathroom) Brennan entered a search.

Seeley Booth.

He was on the third floor. She was on the second. Scribbling his room number on a sheet of paper, Brennan startled when she heard distant footsteps. Exiting the search, she spotted a laundry trolley across the hall, shadowed in a corner. Peeping outwards down the aisle, she scrunched the sheet of paper in her hand, and made her run for it.

Slipping in beside it, she heard voices question whether they had seen something. They approached with more haste. Looking around desperately, a dimly lit doorway read:

'FIRE STAIRWAY. EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY.'

The persons were close.

Grasping the handle quickly, she held onto the frame firmly - so not as to create a sound when she ducked through. When she was safely inside, she inwardly cursed; the concrete stairway was, not only freezing, but vert poorly lit. Huffing determinedly, Brennan made her way carefully up the flight of stairs. Though she was only travelling to the next floor, weakened by her medicine, no doubt, and that she had been constricted to bed since her pregnancy scare, meant that her legs burned weakly before she had even finished the first level.

Finally reaching a utility door that led to the third floor, Brennan let herself in. Unfolding the sticky-note that had been pressed into the palm of her hand, she began searching for the corresponding room. As she walked, an involuntary shiver could not be contained; there were so many branches off to white, cold halls. So much silence, and despair. The hospital felt more like a mausoleum, not a sanctuary for the sickly and injured.

Stumbling past each room, Brennan arrived finally arrived at Booth's.

Be brave, she thought achingly. Heart in her throat, she entered quietly.

He slept in a bed that aligned with a large window that would, during the day, face the sun. From a distance, it almost seemed as though nothing were wrong with him - that he dreamt in a peaceful slumber. Upon advancing, however, as her eyes tightened against the dimness of the room, her stomach wrenched when she acknowledged his injuries.

Bruises and cuts covered his body, and several large bandages, stained with blood, covered flesh wounds on his legs, arms and torso.

A sob rose in her throat, unbidden and full of agony. Collapsing to a kneel beside his bed, she rested her head beside his listless hand and cried silently. Compartmentalising in this situation was worthless; she couldn't shut out the pain.

A weighted, enervated hand rested on her head, and began to stroke her disarrayed hair.

She lifted her eyes.

"Hi," Booth croaked, offering a small smile.

Tears slipped down her cheeks. "H-hi..." Her voice cracked.

"Don't cry, baby," he pleaded, cupping her face as best he could. "I'm okay now."

"Look at you!" she cried in a strangled whisper. "Look what he did to you. I could kill him! I want to kill him…I-"

"Shh, Bones, it's okay…"

"None of this is okay!" she flung back at him. "I hate him."

He took as deep of a breath as he could.

She took a hint, and did the same. Eyes cast down, she mumbled, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so emotional."

"You can't check emotions, Bones. They just happen." His eyes softened, glistening with moisture. "It's okay."

She reached over and kissed him lightly - like the brush of a feather.

"You'd think you'd be used to your partner being knocked around by now," he coughed after a moment of silence, attempting to lighten the mood.

Her eyes glazed with tears. "Oh, god." She kissed his good hand. "I will never allow myself to be okay with you getting hurt." She cupped his face. "You just need to promise me that you'll try really hard not to put yourself in harm's way, okay?"

He smiled weakly. "I'm a cop, baby, so I can't promise my safety."

"Promise me?" she pleaded, and stood, taking his good hand, and resting it against her womb. When she received no response, she whispered, "we can't lose you Booth." Her head bowed above his.

"You'll never-"

"Not as a friend, or a lover, or a soulmate; I know that." She kissed his forehead. "I just don't…that moment when I felt like I lost you…I-"

There was a light knock on the door. "Ma'am?" It was a nurse.

Brennan stood shakily. "…Y-yes?"

"You shouldn't be in here. Agent Booth needs rest. This is against the rules; it's the middle of the night."

Brennan shook her head. "I stay with him. Even if it's while he' sleeping." When the nurse went to protest, she cut her off with, "We've been through hell and back today. I almost lost our child. I want to be with my fiancé. Now, should you please fetch a cot from the storage cupboard, I would be extremely grateful."

The nurse nodded very reluctantly.

"Thank you," said Brennan.

When the woman left, Booth's fingers gripped hers. "You nearly lost the baby?" he asked quietly. Though he had known that she was pregnant from the moment she had told him it was a possibility, the confirmation that the small life existed was icing on the cake.

"The shock…" Brennan tried to explain. "I…I went to the crash site. I thought you were dead-"

"Why didn't anyone tell you I wasn't?"

"I wasn't consolable, Booth. I was out of my mind in despair; no one could have gotten through to me." She cast her eyes down, and locks of brown hair covered her face. "I thought you were dead," she repeated, almost inaudibly.

His thumb caressed her hand. "Fiancé?" He raised an eyebrow.

"It sounded fitting," she replied, blushing. "Girlfriend makes it sound like we're teenagers, and that I snuck into your room-"

"Isn't that what you just did?"

She ignored the pick-up. "Didn't you like it?"

He knew that she'd skipped his quip. "I didn't mind it at all." He smiled as best as his bruised face would allow.

Iron wheels squeaked to a halt at the doorway. "I'm sure you can get it from here," the nurse huffed bitterly, patting a pile of bed covers on top of the portable cot.

"I'm sure if I always worked the night shift my patience would be short too," Brennan replied immediately, before she could stop herself.

The nurse bit her cheeks. "Another word and you go back to your room. Am I clear?"

Brennan nodded obediently - like a child that had been warned by a teacher - and then the woman left them alone.

After setting it up closely to Booth's bed, Brennan settled down into it, and drew the covers to her chin.

"You know, that this afternoon was the first time I've slept in days," she stated in a whisper.

Booth sighed. "They gave you a sedative, didn't they?"

"I suppose."

"Then that's why."

Smiling in spite of herself, Brennan's hand drifted to her lower abdomen. Her smile faded. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the pregnancy," came her quiet murmur after a moment of contemplation.

Booth cleared his throat. "I was conflicted about whether I should just tell you that I sort of understood why you did what you did, or, then again, how I don't get why you wouldn't tell me. I don't how to answer you."

"You just did," Brennan answered, closing her eyes. "Booth…I really am sorry."

"It's alright," he yawned. "We'll talk about it tomorrow" -another yawn- "when I'm a little…" he drifted off.

"Okay," his partner barely whispered, catching the contagiousness of yawns. "…'Night. I love you."

"I love you too."

Brennan waited until she heard his breathing lapse into a steady rhythm as he slept, before she allowed herself to slumber. She almost felt that, if she closed her eyes, when she opened them again, the chaos of the past twenty-four hours would relive itself.

"Go to sleep," Booth muttered suddenly, making her fright out of her skin.

"How did you know I was-?"

"I'll still be here when you wake up," he promised, as if he were reading her thoughts.

Though her body willed against it, Brennan emerged from her covers, and leant above Booth, pressing her lips to his. He responded with gentle pressure, and when she broke apart, he smiled.

"That would send anyone off with sweet dreams," he murmured.

She kissed his forehead. "After everything that's happened, I think that you and I could use a few of those."

Booth reached up to her face with his good arm, and stroked her cheek. "Then promise me you'll sleep." He cupped the side of her face. "I'll still be here when you wake up," he repeated.

Kissing him chastely, once more, Brennan took up her place in the cot again.

"How did you know that I wasn't sleeping?" She asked, snuggling down.

"I just did."

Brennan yawned. "Can we call her Christine?"

The frown was evident in Booth's voice, when he answered with, "Call whom?"

"Our baby," came the simple reply.

Booth paused before answering. "How do you know that it's a girl?"

Brennan smiled and closed her eyes. "I just do."

How about that?

Well, you know with me, peace doesn't last long and I love drama to much, but for now, I think you needed a cheery on top of your cakes!

More to come (of course!)

You know where that button is - don't make me beg ;)

(Thank you to all that reviewed and favourited - made my day to know that you guys care! xxx)