A/N: Hey, guys. New chapter time. Let's say it was in celebration of a Hannah free episode tonight, huh? Anyway, not much to say. It's pretty long, and it's definitely angsty, so hope you enjoy. Also, good news…I'll be posting the next chapter Saturday night. And it's a pretty big one. Be excited. Because it's coming Saturday. Well, provided you do what you've been doing and leave me your thoughts in the review box. Enjoy!

Chapter title comes from Jimmy Eat World's Polaris, and the lyrics are kind of ridiculously accurate for this chapter. Check it out.

Chapter Eight

Polaris

l say it straight and plain
I know I've made mistakes
I've always been afraid
I've always been afraid

A thousand nights or more
I travel east and north
Please answer the door

Can you tell me
You say that love goes anywhere
In your darkest time, it's just enough to know it's there
When you go, I'll let you be
But you're killing everything in me

"Who were you going to choose?"

The question knocked the wind out of him, and Booth stared up at Hannah, wide eyed. For a moment he couldn't register anything except shock that she'd actually spoken the question, out loud.

"Are you really asking me that?" He asked in a soft, tight voice.

Hannah folded her arms, trepidation taking her features. It wasn't as though she'd really been expecting it, considering how the past few days had gone, but the fact that he hadn't answered immediately and decisively made her dread the answer as much as she wanted it. "I did say I know it wasn't fair," she replied quietly. "But none of this has been fair, Seeley."

Booth stared fixedly down at his empty glass of Scotch, his fingers suddenly itching to grab the bottle and refill. "I thought I wasn't going to choose. I didn't want to make that decision; I just wanted to save both of you."

Hannah bit back a frustrated groan. "Well, of course you did, Seeley. But you didn't get to her within the time frame even with my help." She paused. "He would've called, Seeley. You would have had to make a choice."

Clenching his jaw, Booth had to struggled to keep the volume of his voice under control. "What I'm saying is that when you showed up, it was still early. I hadn't made a choice yet…I still thought I could find you."

Hannah exhaled slowly, raking her fingers through her hair in frustration. She was going to have to spell this out. "Fine. But…if I hadn't shown up. If Temperance hadn't done what she did…who would you have chosen?"

Booth lifted his head to look at her, face twisting into an appalled expression. "You don't see how sick that question is?"

She was glaring at him, voice sharp. "You can't expect me to believe you never even considered it, Seeley."

Suddenly, Booth shoved his chair back in one violent motion, the legs scraping against the floor. He stood, leaning forward, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "What does it matter, Hannah? Both of you, you both thought you knew what I was going to do anyway."

This statement, the truth he'd finally spoken out loud, hung between them, the possible implications dangling there.

Hannah felt hot tears pricking her eyes, and she hated herself for that, for still hoping against hope for the instant reassurance, the easy answer. Swallowing hard, she spat out, "So we were wrong, is that what you were saying?"

Booth flinched, and he had to look away from her. He didn't want to resent her for that, for indirectly confirming that, like Brennan, Hannah had been in no doubt that she, as his girlfriend, would have been the one he would save.

Because why wouldn't she think that?

Hannah knew the last five months of his relationship with Bones, and Booth now knew with aching clarity that he had given no indication that Brennan was anything other than his partner.

Scared by his silence, Hannah pressed on, "You can tell me, Seeley. Believe me, I've been questioning it since you seemed disappointed to see me the other day."

"Damn it, Hannah…did you want to be okay with the fact that Bones had given herself up to that guy, that she'd been left to die? I still thought I had time to save you both."

Hannah shook her head helplessly. "You haven't answered the question."

Booth stared at her, a knot twisting in his stomach. He knew what he should say. He should lie. Tell Hannah that of course he would have saved her, no question.

Because he'd ruined things with Bones, beyond repair…five years of building something, and he'd managed to destroy it in five months. Or, depending on how you looked at it, five seconds…the time it took to claim I don't need you.

With Hannah, though, there was still a chance. He had screwed up with her, too, recently, but it wasn't beyond forgiveness. He could still salvage things with her. They could move past this.

But he couldn't form the lie. The best he could give her was a low, rough, "I don't know."

Hannah looked away, the glimmer of tears unmistakable in her eyes. She drew a crooked breath, the kind that's almost a sob, and then said in a tight, shaking voice, "I know how this sounds…but it really, really seems like you should know."

"You can't ask me now, it isn't fair," Booth mumbled in a hollow voice. "Now that I know what Bones did, what both of you thought, what happened after…it's not the same kind of choice. You can't ask, not now."

She nodded for a long time, then turned without another word and went into the bedroom.

Booth returned his attention to the bottle.

~(B*B)~

Angela knocked softly on Brennan's door, then cracked it open without waiting for an answer. "Hey."

Brennan was sitting on the bed, having just finished the difficult task of showering and changing clothes. "Hi."

Closing the door behind her, Angela took a few steps into the guest room. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine, Ange."

Shooting her best friend a smile that didn't touch her eyes, Angela sat down on the edge of the bed. "You always say that, Sweetie. It's okay if it isn't always true. It can't always be true."

For some reason, the warm, tender tone of Angela's voice hit Brennan with a sharp pain in the chest, and she suddenly found herself blinking back tears. "I've…missed him." The words were painful, wrenched from some deep hidden space Brennan had long been struggling to compartmentalize. "I know that's irrational, because he's been here but it…it's like he isn't sometimes." Her voice splintered. "A lot of the time."

"I know," Angela murmured soothingly.

Brennan's face twisted. "And he thinks I threw away five years…I was trying to protect him." Another sharp, painful memory came back to her suddenly. You're the one who needs protecting. From me. "All…all I was ever doing was trying…trying to protect him…"

Angela slid over slightly so she was sitting just beside Brennan on the bed. "Sweetie…"

Her voice was thick with tears now. "And I thought…for a second, when he found me, that it was different, but…he didn't stay, Angela." She laughed, the breathless kind of laughter that barely precedes sobbing. "The one time he was there he tried to leave before I saw him. He didn't come back." The last bit of control snapped, suddenly, sobs rising from her throat, and her last words were nearly lost in them. "He doesn't care anymore, he doesn't need me…"

Minimizing the space between them, Angela reached into Brennan's lap and took one of her tightly clenched hands. "Ssh," she murmured quietly as Brennan leaned her head on Angela's shoulder, surprising them both. "It's okay…it's gonna be alright."

~(B*B)~

Booth passed out in Parker's room nearly an hour after Hannah left him alone in the kitchen. He woke up the next morning to a hangover and the memories of nightmares, which was typical, and the smell of breakfast, which wasn't.

He stumbled out of the room to find Hannah, dressed for work, sitting at the kitchen, her hands folded in front of her. There were two plates on the table, and the one in front of her was untouched.

She was waiting for him.

"I really don't think I can eat," Booth informed her bluntly, rubbing his eyes against the brightness of the room.

Hannah rolled her eyes, a gesture that undermined the formality of her posture. "I wonder why." She took a deep breath, obviously making an effort to stay neutral. "Sit anyway. We need to talk."

A knot of dread was forming in the pit of Booth's stomach, but he sat anyway, blinking blearily at her.

Hannah met his eyes and launched right in. "Do you want me here, Seeley?"

"What?" His gaze wavered slightly. "Yeah, sure. Of course I do."

"You're sure?"

"I…yeah." He nodded as though that might enforce his sincerity.

She scrutinized him for several more seconds, then nodded back. "Alright. Then…things have to change. No more staying away all night. Or coming home drunk and going to drink alone in the kitchen..."

Hannah reached out, taking his hand, and for some reason Booth had to fight an urge to pull away. "I know you're having a hard time, Seeley. But I want you to talk to me about it…I was part of that day, too, and…I don't want you to shut me out." She paused, trying to read his face. "And I won't ask you again. I…I know that wasn't fair."

It took Booth a moment to realize she was waiting for him to speak. "Okay. Thank you." Hannah kept looking at him, expectant. Booth pushed away the untouched plate in front of him. "And thanks for breakfast. I gotta go shower."

Hannah frowned, disappointed in his reaction. She glanced at her watch and sighed; she had to leave for work. "So you'll be home tonight?"

Not turning around, Booth answered, "Yeah."

Voice hardening a little, Hannah added, "Sober?"

Finally, Booth turned around to look at her. He had to remember that Hannah was who he still had a chance with. He had to stop looking at her and seeing that moment when she'd walked into the lab, untouched, and revealed that Bones had been left behind to die.

His voice softening slightly, Booth told her, "Yes. Promise. And…I'm sorry. About last night."

"Me, too," Hannah replied, but silently she couldn't help but wonder why he wasn't sorry for the three nights before that…the ones when he didn't come home at all.

~(B*B)~

Brennan woke up at 9:47, surprisingly late by her usual standards. She showered, a feat that took at least twice as long as usual with her leg, and eventually hobbled to the kitchen on her crutches.

She was surprised to see Angela sitting at the kitchen table, reading. She glanced up and smiled brightly at Brennan. "Morning Sweetie."

"Morning…" Brennan stopped at the fridge, attempting crane her arm at the handle without letting one of her crutches fall.

Suddenly Angela was beside her, opening the door. "What do you want?"

Flushing slightly, embarrassed at her inability to perform simple tasks, Brennan muttered something about being fine.

Angela, though, reminded her in a no-nonsense tone, "You have medication to take. So whether or not you are fine, you need something to drink. So. What do you want?"

Chastised, Brennan answered, "Orange juice." She turned awkwardly and hobbled to the table to sit down.

"Thanks," she murmured to Angela as she set the glass and several bottles of pills in front of her.

"No problem. Want anything else? Something to eat?"

"I'm fine."

Angela arched an eyebrow. "Really? Or are you just being stubborn."

Brennan couldn't help but smile at that. "Really." Satisfied, Angela nodded and sat back down across from Brennan, who added, "Why aren't you at work?"

"I'm taking a little bit of early maternity leave," Angela told her with a grin. "At least until you can get back to the lab."

Brennan's eyes softened as she met her best friend's gaze. "You didn't have to do that."

"Bren, I've told you, most people like time off work. It's no problem, okay? I was going to tell you last night, but I kind of forgot."

"Right," Brennan winced a little. No wonder she'd forgotten, after the way Brennan broke down and cried like a three year old.

That had to stop. She'd gotten used to the distance Booth had created between them. She'd accepted that she mattered much less to him.

It hadn't stopped hurting. As she'd said to Angela, she hadn't stopped missing him. But she had least learned to pretend she was okay, and to stop expecting something to change.

She couldn't lose that just because he'd saved her life, and because she'd gotten a brief glimpse of how he used to be.

And even though the idea of not working with him for months gave Brennan a sick, hollow feeling in her stomach…maybe it was for the best.

Because it was hard, being around him every day but really, truly being just partners. Brennan wasn't equipped to articulate the exact differences in Booth, but that didn't matter because she could feel them, feel the lack of something that used to be there when he looked at her, or the emptiness in their conversations.

Most days ended with a sharp pang of longing and regret, with Booth driving off to Hannah while Brennan wished for coffee or drinks or even pie.

Seeing Booth every day, the evidence of everything she'd lost right in front of her, it cut her to the quick every time.

Maybe this would be easier. Brennan would take a dull ache over the fresh wound that constantly being ripped open and picked apart.

"It's going to be boring," she warned Angela eventually.

Angela smiled, eyes shining. "Oh, no, it isn't. You're going to help me with the baby's room. Today," she said dramatically, "We paint."

Sighing, Brennan patted her crutches, leaning against the table next to her. "Ange. I don't think I'm going to be much help standing up to paint walls…"

"Oh, I wouldn't let you paint the walls, anyway." Angela said, grimacing slightly. "I love you, Sweetie, but my daughter is not going to sleep surrounded by pictures of skeletons. Hodgins already brought home this stuffed…bug thing he found, so there's already the need for damage control."

Brennan smiled a little in spite of herself. "So what am I allowed to do?"

"You can sit on the floor and paint the crib. Solid color, you should be able to handle it." Angela's teasing grin faded slightly. "If you're feeling okay, I mean."

"I'm fine. Really."

Angela nodded, holding her gaze. "Leg's good?"

"Yes."

"Everything…else?" Angela recognized Brennan's I don't know what that means face before she even said it. "Are you okay?"

"I'm-"

"Fine?" Angela finished with a half-smile. "We can talk some more, if you want, while we're painting-"

But Brennan was already shaking her head. "I really don't want to talk about Booth anymore, Ange. I think…it's better. Getting a break from him."

"Yeah," Angela agreed quietly. "Maybe. I know it hasn't been easy…seeing him with Hannah, being around him-"

Brennan shifted uncomfortably, shrugging it off. "I just need some time to…be like Booth. To make him less important."

Angela didn't miss the implication: that Booth had already made Brennan less important, and like always it broke her heart.

She hadn't missed the effects the past few months had been having on Brennan. It was impossible not to notice the wistful, pained expression on Brennan's face when Booth dropped her off at the lab after a case only to head off to Hannah, or the raw ache evident in her eyes on the rare occasions when he brought Hannah out with the team. It was also hard to ignore Brennan's increasingly frequent late nights at the lab.

But this was the first time Brennan had acknowledged it. And for her, that meant it must be pretty bad.

~(B*B)~

Booth did everything he was supposed for the rest of the day.

He went to work, where he saw Sweets in the hallway. The kid nodded slightly, raising a hand in the barest hint of acknowledgment before quickly turning in the opposite direction, not rushing over to talk or even to offer his psychoanalysis of the scene at the bar last night.

He went home and stayed there. He didn't go to the bar or reach for the Scotch. He had dinner with Hannah. They watched a movie and went to sleep.

Before they drifted off, Hannah curled up against him and told him that he seemed better.

But he wasn't.

The dark, gnawing self-hatred in his gut hadn't gone away. Neither had the constant, distressing mental images he had of Bones (now including her face last night in the bar, battling back tears while she accused him of throwing away the last five years). All night it took every ounce of strength Booth had left from reaching for the bottle to chase those thoughts away.

He had gotten better at repressing his resentment of Hannah, though it meant he had to avoid looking her in the eye. His side of their conversations felt stiff and forced.

But she seemed satisfied, temporarily. She'd left for work when he got up the next morning, and Booth was grateful for the respite of pretending.

That night, however, Hannah met him at the door with a puzzled look on her face. "Seeley? I was sorting through some laundry and found this." She uncurled her first, and Booth's heart twisted; Jasper was lying in Hannah's palm.

Booth cleared his throat, but his voice still sounded odd when he answered, "That's Bones'."

Hannah's eyebrows lifted. "What? I was thinking it was, like, Parker's…from four years ago."

Bristling, Booth reached out and pulled the pig figurine away from Hannah with unnecessary force. "No, it's…Jasper. "

Lips curling in amusement, Hannah asked, "The pig has a name?"

Booth had been staring down at Jasper, but at that, he lifted his head to pin Hannah with a glare. "It isn't funny."

Hannah's smile faded slowly as she took in the tightness of Booth's face, the glint in his eyes. "Fine, okay. It's not funny." She paused, uncertainly watching Booth's attention return to the small pig, then ventured slowly, "So why do you have Temperance's…pig toy?"

Irrational anger beginning to choke him, Booth turned his back on Hannah and began pacing needlessly. "I have to give this back to her, I have to go over there…"

"That still doesn't explain why you have it."

Booth ignored her, his purpose suddenly clear. He pulled his coat back on, still gripping Jasper. He was going to Hodgins place.

He had to see Bones. That was all there was to it, when Booth was honest with himself. He had ruined things with her. There was probably no fixing them, no way back.

But for five months he'd stopped noticing her, and Brennan was still the person who kept a tiny pig and smurf on the windowsill in her bedroom, displayed like prize possessions.

What he and Bones had for five years might be lost now, for good, but that didn't mean it never existed. It didn't mean every moment they had stopped mattering.

Hannah would never understand why a tiny toy pig had a name, and why it was important. He didn't want to share that moment with Hannah. The first time Bones saved his life, and the first time she killed someone, wrapped up in one. The way it had seemed so very important to make her smile that he'd gone out searching for the pig…

What goes on between us should be ours.

No, he wasn't telling Hannah anything about Jasper.

"I'll be back," he remembered to say, already flinging open the door. "I have to go see Bones. She needs this back."

Hannah was staring at him, looking slightly bewildered by what was happening. After a moment, though, she nodded, coming toward him. "Wait just a second and I'll come, too. I want to see how she's doing, anyway-"

"No." It was instinctual, and it was out before Booth could inject anything apologetic into his voice. Hurt registered instantly on his girlfriend's face, and Booth shook his head, impatient. "I need to do this. Please, just…this has to be me."

Something changed in Hannah's face, and her eyes hardened. "Fine. Go."

He went.

Booth was clutching Jasper so hard the tiny, plastic legs dug into the skin on his palm.

There was a spark in his chest, and though it made Booth nervous, it also felt like the first glimmer of genuine hope he'd had in days. Because the pig had renewed something in him, some determination.

The last five years of their partnership mattered, damn it. Every moment between them, everything they'd been through together…it still mattered.

He'd ruined the last five months. He'd screwed up, he'd hurt her more than he could stand, and he'd nearly gotten her killed. Booth couldn't forgive that, so he definitely didn't expect her to.

But that didn't discount everything that came before it. Bones had been wrong about one thing…he hadn't thrown away those years. It was impossible. He couldn't.

Fifteen minutes later he was standing in front of Hodgins front door. Booth took only a moment to gape at the sheer size of the place before ringing the doorbell.

~(B*B)~

Hodgins, Angela and Brennan were sitting in the living room, watching some special on the Discovery Channel that Jack and Brennan seemed to find fascinating while putting Angela to sleep, when the doorbell rang.

Brennan glanced between the two of them, but neither got up instantly to answer it. Hodgins, though, had his laptop open in front of him, and after a few seconds of clicking, he announced, with an uncertain glance at Brennan, "It's Booth."

"How do you know?"

"He's got the security system connected to his computer," Angela answered offhandedly. She was watching Brennan closely.

Hodgins was, too. "Do I…let him in?"

The doorbell rang again.

Brennan fixed her gaze at her hands, twisting nervously in her lap. This wasn't the plan; she was supposed to be getting distance.

She hadn't expected him to show up.

It rang again.

Glancing up, Brennan met Angela's eyes, giving her best friend a panicking, pleading look.

Angela nodded immediately. "I'll take care of it." She stood up and headed through the hallway to the foyer.

After a moment, Brennan grabbed her crutches and stood to follow her.

~(B*B)~

Booth's thumb was on the doorbell for the fourth time when it swung open and Angela was in front of him, her face impassive.

"Hi," he began, somewhat breathlessly.

"Hey," she replied warily, leaving the door only halfway open.

"So this is the infamous manor?" Booth let out a low whistle. "Which tower is Bones staying in?"

Angela wasn't amused. "What do you want, Booth?"

"I just want to see her," Booth said, his voice suddenly low and serious. "Please, Ange."

"Not a good idea."

Something about this phrasing alarmed him. "Is she okay?"

Angela sighed. "She's trying to be. You have to let her do that, at least."

"But I have to talk to her."

Dark eyes flashing, Angela shot back hotly, "You did enough of that last night, Booth. And a few days ago." He winced at the reminder of that last pre-kidnapping conversation. "Give her a break."

His stomach clenched painfully at this implication that Bones needed a break from him, as though he may be here to once again to say something terrible. Booth pleaded quietly, "I didn't even get to apologize, Angela."

She shook her head. "Yeah, well, you had two chances. And last night you just kind of yelled at her, and from what I hear you barely said anything at the hospital."

"Please," His voice broke, desperation swelling in his chest. "Please, Angela. Do this for me."

"I'm with her, Booth. Brennan's my best friend. I'm not letting you hurt her again."

"I'm not-"

"Is Hannah waiting for you to get home?" Angela interrupted.

"I – yeah, but-"

"Exactly." Voice softening slightly, Angela said, "She needs time, Booth. It's been hard on her for awhile and this…what happened was just a breaking point."

Desperate, Booth held up the pig. "I have to give her this. I didn't mean to, but I kept it. Bones has to…I have to give it back."

"I can give it to her…" Angela suggested, still confused about the significance of the tiny figurine, but reaching for it.

Booth pulled it back, eyes widening like he thought she would steal it. "No, I…I need to. Please. It's really important. I need her to know I think it's important."

Angela locked her eyes on his, and deliberately held out her hand. "I will tell her. I will tell her you never let go of this thing the whole time she was missing, for whatever reason. But you have to leave her alone. For awhile, at least."

Stubbornly, Booth maintained his grip on Jasper. "I won't hurt her again."

"You don't get it," Angela told him softly. "Just you being here…that's hurting her." She raised her hand a little higher. "Come on. You gotta go, Booth."

Booth pressed his trembling lips together and slowly, reluctantly dropped the pig into Angela's outstretched palm. "Please don't do this."

But Angela just pocketed the pig. "Thanks. I'll make sure she gets it. Goodnight, Booth."

He didn't reply, just stood there staring after her with a devastated expression as the door clicked shut in front of him.

~(B*B)~

Closing the door behind her, Angela took a moment to swallow against the lump in her throat. She could see the desperation in Booth's eyes, and she felt horrible for turning him away, but she had to do what was best for Brennan.

When she felt calmer, Angela turned and headed back to the living room. She'd barely gone ten feet, though, when she found Brennan, lingering just around the corner, within earshot.

"Oh, Sweetie…"

There were tears on Brennan's cheeks, and the back of her hand was hovering over her lips, waiting to muffle sobs that hadn't yet begun.

Instantly, uncertainty descended on Angela. "Do you want me to get him back…?"

Brennan shook her head hard, then asked softly, "What did he give you?"

"Bren-"

Her voice catching, Brennan cut Angela. "What is it, what did he take?"

Angela reached into her pocket and held out the tiny pig. Brennan's face crumpled, and her hands shook slightly as she reached for it. Angela told her quietly, "He had it in your room, after we found out you were missing. And I guess he took it with him, because he had it later in the lab. He was staring at that thing like it was going to save you…"

"He gave it to me," Brennan said, her voice barely a breath. "After Epps…"

Angela nodded, then before she could stop herself, asked the obvious question, "Why?"

But Brennan just shook her head. For some reason, she didn't want to explain it all to Angela. That moment was hers, only with Booth, and she wanted it to stay that way.

Hodgins suddenly appeared in the doorway, his expression wary. "Everybody okay, out here?"

Nodding, Brennan swiped a sleeve quickly across her eyes before tightening her grip on her crutches. "I think I'm going to go to bed."

"Okay…night, Sweetie." But Brennan was already hobbling away, and Angela sadly watched her go.

~(B*B)~

Booth was still shaking when he got back to his apartment. He was in the kitchen and unsteadily pouring himself a drink when Hannah emerged from the bedroom, her hair wet from a shower.

"Seeley, come on…"

"I'm not asking you to stay up, you can go to bed," he forced out through gritted teeth, tipping the contents of the glass down his throat.

"I thought you said you were stopping this."

"I'm a grown man, Hannah," he muttered, pouring a refill. His hands were shaking so badly he sloshed half a glass onto the counter before correcting his aim.

Hannah crossed the room and wrapped a hand around the bottle. "What happened?"

"Angela, she wouldn't let me see her."

"Why?"

Booth just shook his head irritably. He couldn't explain, not without going into what happened at the bar the other night, or what he'd said to Bones when Hannah was missing, or even explaining the truth about what they used to be, the bond Hannah had never seen…

He reached for the bottle, his glass empty again, but Hannah pulled it away.

"Hannah."

"You'll see her eventually," Hannah said firmly, blatantly ignoring his protest. "Why is it so important to go tonight?" When he didn't answer, she forced herself to soften her tone, "Do you want to explain about the pig thing?"

"No."

She stared up at him, but Booth never turned to look at her. "Do you want to tell me why you're so upset?"

"I did tell you," he snapped, voice cracking. "I needed to see Bones tonight, I've barely seen her…"

"They probably just wanted her to get some rest," Hannah said, her tone coming out more impatient than her intended soothing. "You'll see her soon. Try again tomorrow."

Booth nodded. "Sure. Tomorrow."

~(B*B)~

Over the next week and a half, Booth went back to Angela and Hodgins' place three times, and no one answered the door.

He went drinking after he left the house, and on the nights he didn't try Booth drove straight to the bar. Not the Founding Fathers…he wasn't risking running into Cam or Sweets or even Bones again in that state. He found a small hole in the wall place that they wouldn't think of visiting.

Once there, Booth drank until he stopped missing her. He drank until he stopped hoping for another chance and hating himself for blowing the last few. He drank until he stopped remembering.

Then he'd take a cab home and crawl into bed next to Hannah, though by that point his mind was foggy enough to pretend he was alone.

Then one afternoon he came home to find Hannah sitting in the living room, her small pile of suitcases in front of her.

He froze in the doorway, keys still in his hand. "What are you doing?"

Hannah looked up at him, her expression stoic. "I'm going."

"You can't," he blurted out stupidly.

"I'm not that person, Seeley," Hannah said in a low voice. "I'm not the girl who sees the truth before you do and then steps gracefully aside. That girl goes from being hated to being pitied and I'm not her." She stared fixedly at a spot on the wall for a long moment, eyes wide, before continuing tightly, "But I'm also not the girl who sits around, perfectly oblivious, or, or pretending everything's okay."

Booth blinked at her. "I don't know what you're saying."

Hannah laughed in a way that suggested nothing would ever be funny again. "Do you know you yell her name in your sleep? No matter how wasted you are when you get home, no matter what ungodly hour it is…you always do it. I wake up and you're shaking and screaming her name." She was standing, then, grabbing her bags.

"When I first got to the basement we couldn't find Bones, and I was yelling for her and I thought she was dead," Booth told in a rush, a strange sort of panic gripping him and making it hard to think straight.

"You are miserable, Seeley. I don't make you happy. Me being here, being alive…it's like it doesn't matter." She met his eyes, tears welling in hers finally. "You need her."

Booth could only stare. He wouldn't deny needing Bones, never again. But his heart was hammering in his chest and he heard himself say, "Don't go. Please."

She walked to the door, balancing all the bags she hadn't already packed in the car. She paused in the doorway, then turned, tears falling at last. "You know, I knew she loved you the minute she explained what she'd done down there. I even… I even thought she might love you more than I did. It never occurred to me to do that for you. But that's…that's because I didn't doubt you. Not for one second, You said you loved me and I believed you…until I got back and suddenly you didn't."

Booth felt lightheaded, disconnected from the scene in front of him. "Don't go," he said again, weakly, almost dazed. "You're all I have left."

A crooked sob escaped Hannah's throat and she shook her head. "That's not enough reason to stay."

The door clicked behind her, and she was gone.

~(B*B)~

Brennan's fingertips were sticky with butter. Angela didn't seem to have that problem, as she was licking her fingers every few seconds before delving her hand back into their shared bowl of popcorn.

Quelling the instinctual lecture against the transference of bacteria, Brennan stuck carefully to her own side of the bowl.

Angela had chosen the movie tonight, and Brennan wasn't finding it very stimulating. Something about a girl who had a lot of bridesmaids dresses.

She was enjoying staying at Angela's, though. As much as Brennan hated the limitations in her mobility and the way it necessitated asking for help in usually simple tasks, she enjoyed the company more.

Brennan had never really noticed how many of her evenings were filled spending time with Booth…not until it was gone. Ever since he started dating Hannah…well, the past few months had seemed unusually lonely.

The doorbell rang. Angela and Brennan both looked at each other, uncertain.

"Much later than his usual visits," Angela commented lightly, but as always she could see the conflict on Brennan's face.

The doorbell rang again. And then several more times, in rapid succession.

"More persistent, too…" Angela held Brennan's gaze. "What do you want to do?"

Before she could answer, Hodgins walked by them, amid a chorus of ringing.

"I got this," he said, tone strangely grim. "Just stay in here."

~(B*B)~

Booth pressed his finger on the doorbell and pressed it again, over and over. He'd given up too easy the last two times…only rang it twice before going away. No wonder they'd been able to ignore him.

"Bones!" He yelled at the closed door. "Bones, let me in!"

He knocked the hand clutching his beer against the door, still ringing the doorbell with the other hand. He'd come from the bar. It had occurred to him, sitting there, that Angela had asked him, the first night he'd tried to see Bones, if Hannah was waiting for him at home.

And now she wasn't. So that meant they might let him in.

Suddenly the door opened and Hodgins was standing there, his face uncharacteristically hard. "You have any idea what time it is?"

Booth craned his neck, trying to see past Hodgins into the house. "Are they asleep?"

"No, but that's not the point," Hodgins' eyes flickered to the beer bottle in Booth's hand. "You drunk, Booth?"

"I need to see Bones."

"Not like this you don't," Hodgins said firmly.

Booth pointed an accusing finger at the younger man. "You can't do that. You have to let Bones decide if she wants to talk to me, you have to give her a choice."

"My house, my call," Hodgins said bluntly. "You don't get to see her when you're like this."

"Apparently I don't get to see her any other night, either…" Booth retorted, flattening his palm against the door and trying to open it the rest of the way.

Hodgins' eyes widened slightly, and he put out a hand to stop Booth. "You aren't coming in here."

Angela's voice floated from the hallway. "Everything okay, Jack?"

"Yeah, you guys stay back there," Hodgins replied, not taking his eyes off Booth.

Freezing, staring at the expression on Hodgins' face, Booth took a few steps back. Shame penetrated the fog of alcohol and Booth felt himself shudder. "You…you think I'm going to hurt someone?"

Hodgins sighed. "No, man, of course not. I just…I saw what happened last time you tried to talk to Brennan when you were drinking."

Booth hung his head, suddenly just sober enough to be thoroughly sick of himself.

Lowering his voice, Hodgins told him, "You don't want to do this now. Not like this."

"Right," Booth muttered, nodding dully.

"Do you need a ride?"

"My cab…I think my cab's waiting." Booth swiveled around. He could just see the headlights back on the street.

"Good." Warily, looking as though he expected protest, Hodgins started to close the door. "Night, Booth."

~(B*B)~

Hodgins returned to the living room, still slightly on edge by the encounter. It was unsettling seeing Booth so unraveled.

The DVD was paused on the flat screen, and both women were watching him expectantly.

"Jack?" Angela prompted tentatively.

"He'd been drinking a little," Hodgins said calmly, keeping his eyes locked on Angela's. He was having a hard time looking at Brennan for some reason.

"Is he okay?" Brennan asked him quietly.

"I, uh…I don't know. I think so just…had a little too much."

"He wasn't driving, was he?" The pitch of her voice was edging higher.

"No," Hodgins reassured her quickly, "He had a cab."

Brennan nodded, though she still looked distressed. Hodgins and Angela exchanged glances, and he announced in as casually as he could manage, "I'll let you guys finish this…cinematic gem."

He left the room, but Angela didn't play the movie again yet. She reached out and squeezed Brennan's shoulder gently. "You okay?"

"Booth doesn't usually drink that much," Brennan stated. "Probably because of his genetic predisposition to alcoholism, but…he never gets drunk."

"You're worried about him?"

Catching her lower lip between her teeth, Brennan nodded. After a moment, she said, "It's just…he was at least somewhat inebriated when we saw him at the bar. And now this…"

Angela could see the genuine fear on Brennan's face, and she hesitantly suggested, "Well…we could drive over there, Bren. Make sure he's okay."

She was silent for a moment, considering it, but then shook her head. "No, I…I don't want to go over there. And…he's got Hannah. She'll make sure, right?"

~(B*B)~

The next morning was one of those times Booth wished he'd been able to black out. The events of the previous night, Hannah leaving, his immediate departure to the bar, getting fixated on the idea that now would be a good time to try to see Bones again, showing up drunk at Hodgins…none of them were anything he wanted to remember.

The shame was enough to keep him away from the bottle for a few days, though it didn't last long.

It was strange, working for those few weeks. Being in the field without Bones was unsettling. He felt off balance, and it only made him miss her more. It also made it so even work wasn't a distraction for Booth; her absence was so glaring it worked as a constant reminder of why she wasn't there.

So the drinking continued.

He had contact with Cam a few times, only for work. She called in their findings and apologized for turning down a lunch invitation, reminding him that she had much more work than usual with both Brennan and Angela gone.

But Booth didn't miss the slight disappointment that tinged Cam's voice when she talked to him, and he didn't ask her again.

He saw Sweets a couple times at work, but the kid always seemed in a hurry to end the conversation. He did ask, once, how Hannah was doing since the kidnapping, and Booth had been in such desperate need for conversation that he admitted that Hannah had left him.

But instead of his usual psychoanalysis, an offer to talk, or anything else Booth was expecting, Sweets stumbled through an apology before claiming he had a patient waiting and running off.

~(B*B)~

One day, a week and a half after Hannah left, Booth walked from the Hoover to the diner over his lunch break. He'd called in an order, as it had become his habit to just eat alone in his office, unless he was on his way to question someone, in which case he just ate in his car.

Booth froze though, halfway across the street from his car, staring, transfixed through the window.

The team was squeezed into a booth by the window. All of them.

Minus him.

Sweets was there, too, and Booth had seen him in passing at the Hoover that morning. So they'd clearly called specifically to invite him.

Just not Booth. Because, as Angela had told him, he was supposed to be staying away from Bones. So he didn't do any more damage.

Hodgins refused to let him enter his house. Angela saw him as the enemy, someone who couldn't stop hurting her best friend. Camille refused his lunch invitations. Sweets avoided his gaze in the hallway at work.

And Bones…Bones had clearly had all the destruction she could take from him.

Booth turned around without picking up his order, feeling very, very alone.

Ooh. The angst, right? Pour your hearts out in the box, guys. Love hearing from you, the more you write the better (but I love each every review, of course). You're amazing, and you make fanfic such an awesome experience.

And like I said. The next chapter's a big one, and it's pretty much done. Should post Saturday. Just leave the reviews! Thanks for reading, as always!