A week and a couple days later, Brennan emerges from the bathroom and takes a seat on the arm of Booth's chair. Instinctively, she searches for his hand and grabs it. She looks at him, her eyes glassy and her lips somewhere between a smile and a straight line. She gives his hand a squeeze and nods her head.

Booth takes his eyes off of her and turns his head slowly towards his son. The air in the room is dry and thick, the silence deafening. He can feel beads of sweat rolling down his face and can feel his chest tighten. His eyes sting from unshed tears, and his lips separate just enough for a sliver of air to escape. He clears his throat and looks back at Brennan.

She nods again and turns to Parker, who's staring at them, his eyebrows wrinkled. She clears her throat as well and swallows. She inhales deeply and sighs. "Your father and I need to tell you something, Parker." She pauses, waiting for confirmation that he understands and that he's listening. She gets it in the form of an arched eyebrow, so she continues. "Four weeks ago, you and your mother were in an automobile accident. The car your mother was driving was hit by another vehicle driven by a man who was under the influence of alcohol. His judgment was significantly impaired, and he—."

Booth nudges her.

"Yes, right, okay." She regroups and continues. "The driver, who initially caused the accident, hit the driver's side directly. Another driver was unable to react in time, and thus slammed into the back of your mother's SUV. You weren't wearing your seatbelt, I suspect, because that action forced your body forward and caused you to hit your head against the dashboard."

Booth nudges her again.

"Right, sorry." She nods. "You and your mother were rushed to the hospital, where you were listed in critical condition. Your mother, she had more severe injuries. She was in worse condition when she arrived at the hospital than you were. Despite the effort of the surgeon and advances in medical technology and techniques, the stress of your mom's injuries was too much for her heart to take, Parker." She swallows. "I'm sorry, buddy. Dr. Franks did everything he could."

Booth closes his eyes. Even he can hardly stomach it and he's known for weeks now.

Parker's eyes fill with tears and his chin quivers. His body starts to tremble and there's some slight change in his heart rate. "I don't." He sucks in air and lets it out slowly. "Believe you," he mutters. His voice is still rather raspy, but it's clearer than it was.

"What I've said is true," Brennan says, surprised that he doesn't believe her.

Booth scoots to the edge of the chair and takes his son's hand, holding it tight between both of his, their fingers interlocked. "Bub, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He can feel his son's hand shaking, and his chest tightens even more.

Parker nods. He's known. On some level, he's known. His mom's not by his bedside and neither his dad nor Brennan have said anything about her until now.

Brennan cups Booth's shoulder and closes her eyes.

"It's gonna be okay, buddy. It is. I promise you that. Bones and Christine and me, we're here for you—always, no matter what," Booth whispers, tears dripping down his unshaven cheeks.

Parker screams, using up all his energy and lung power, wincing. He closes his eyes and drops his hand, trying to catch his breath. It's one thing to suspect something to be true, but it's another thing entirely to have it be confirmed.

Brennan watches Booth try his best to comfort Parker until the teenager, having been zapped of all his energy, falls asleep. It's then that she looks at her partner and asks, "What do we do now?"

Booth's not listening. "We shouldn't have told him. He wasn't ready. We rushed this, Bones. He wasn't ready." He leans forward, his elbows digging into his thighs, and buries his face into his palms. "He wasn't ready for this," he repeats a third time, lifting his head just slightly so he can look at his son.

"Are you mad at me?"

Booth blinks and looks at her. "What? Why? Why would I be mad at you?"

"It was my idea to tell Parker about Rebecca when we did."

Booth sighs and rests his head against her side, tugging on a loose thread on her jeans. "He probably knew something was wrong, but we had to tell him. His reaction wouldn't have changed, whether we told him when we did or waited a couple hours, days, weeks, months, years. Time doesn't matter. It's the information."

"But, Booth, you just said that we shouldn't have told him, that Parker wasn't ready. Now you're telling me that that we had to tell him, that it wouldn't have mattered when we told him because only the information is a factor here. Which is it?"

"It's both, Bones. It's both."

"I don't know what that means."

"Me either. It's both and it's neither. I just—he's my son, and things just keep piling up and piling up. He's got to worry about getting better and now he's dealing with nightmares and losing his mom on top of that."

"You told me once that God doesn't give us anything we can't handle. If that's true, which I'm not saying I believe that it is, but if that's true, then all of us, most importantly Parker, will get through this." She pauses. "Sometimes great things come from tragedies and sometimes you don't know how strong you are until you're face-to-face with something like this. I'm proof of that. You and I are proof of that."

He tilts his head and smiles up at her. "Since when have you become so reassuring?"

She shrugs.

He laughs.

She leans down and gives him a delicate peck on the lips. "We'll get through this, Booth."

He nods. "I have faith. It's been tested for sure, but I have faith in God, faith in the universe, faith in Parker, faith in you and me. It won't be easy, but I know it's possible because you're sitting here smiling at me. If you can get through it alone, I don't see why my son can't get through this when he has all of us here for him."

"Sometimes I wish I could do that—rely on faith to solve a problem without second guessing it."

He laughs. "You can, Bones, and you have. This whole time you've been relying on faith. The second you told me Parker was gonna be okay and just now when you said that we're gonna get through this. That's faith, baby."

"I'm well aware of what it is, Booth, but that is not what I said. I said I wish I could rely on faith to solve problems without second guessing. I've second guessed it this whole time. You can just say 'It's going to be alright' like it's nothing. I wish I could do that."

"You think when I say stuff like that, I don't have doubts? I do. It's not nothing, Bones. It's not about giving it a second thought or not giving it a second thought, it's just about having it, and it's perfectly fine to have faith. Sometimes that's all you have to keep you going, to get you out of bed in the morning. No one's gonna think less of you as a scientist, as a person, if you rely on faith once in a while, even if you have to second guess everything." He pauses. "But thanks for talking to Parker with me. I knew it wasn't gonna be easy and I knew he wasn't gonna take it well, so I'm glad you were here. I literally couldn't have told him without you."

"We're a family, we're partners, we do things together, even the hard stuff."

He smiles.

"Booth?"

He nods. "Yeah, Bones? What is it?"

She swallows and looks at him. She hesitates and then says, "I know you have reasons and I respect those reasons, but—." She stops, her eyes drifting to her hands. She clears her throat and continues. "Would you mind wearing your seatbelt when we're in the car?"

"Bones—."

She nods. "I know why you don't wear it, but for my sake, for our daughter's sake, for Parker's sake, even, please, can you?" Her voice falters a bit at the end and she swallows the lump in her throat. "It's silly, I know. You're an FBI agent. You get shot at on a daily basis, so there are many other likely scenarios where I could possibly become a single parent, but wearing a seatbelt significantly decreases that probability."

He rests his hand on top of hers and smiles at her.

"Parker wasn't wearing a seatbelt, Booth," she whispers.

He nods. "I'm a good driver, Bones."

"Rebecca didn't cause the accident, Booth, so your argument is invalid."

"Okay, okay." He reaches up and drags his thumb across her cheeks, trapping the tears and wiping them away. "I'll wear my seatbelt. If it will make you feel better, I'll wear it, but there are certain situations where I can't promise I will. Is that fair?"

She nods. "I suppose."

He hooks his arm around her waist and pulls her onto his lap, planting a warm kiss on her lips.

She gives in to the kiss and wraps her arms around his neck. "Thank you," she mumbles against his lips and pulls back. She sighs and looks back at a seemingly peaceful sleeping Parker.

"I didn't know me not wearing a seatbelt bothered you that much. I mean, not just because of your obsession with rules, I figured that, but because of your fear of losing me."

She nods and gets closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder, her face in the crook of his neck. She closes her eyes and sighs. She doesn't answer him, though. She can't.

What do you want to happen next?