Two days later, Parker's sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand clasped around the rung on one of his crutches. He's bracing himself, trying to convince himself to stand up. It took so much out of him just to sit up and scoot to the edge of the mattress, so he has little left to push himself up to his feet. It'll be his third attempt in two days. He closes his eyes and blows out a puff of air through his nose.

Booth places an open palm on his son's shoulder and smiles. "You can do it, bub."

Parker opens his eyes and looks around the room. In addition to his father, his physical therapist, Dr. Hunter, is there, along with Dr. Brooks, Max, Brennan, and Christine. He's not sure he likes the audience. He clears his throat and clutches that rung even harder. He finally musters up enough energy and nerve to slip off the edge of the mattress. His left foot touches tile first, his leg nearly collapsing under his weight. His right foot, the leg fitted in his new air-cast boot, touches last, sending a shockwave of pain through is body. He lets out a screech and collapses to the floor.

Booth kneels down instantly. "Parker, what happened?" He helps his son sit up and makes sure he's okay, that he didn't injury himself.

Tears trickle down the teenager's face, his body trembling. He pushes away the crutch and groans. "I can't do anything right! I can't even stand up."

Booth rubs Parker's shoulder and sighs. "You got so much farther this time, buddy."

Parker tunes his father out, closing his eyes tight, allowing the tears to build up behind his closed eyelids. His breathing is ragged, his body still shaking.

Booth sits beside the teenager, leaning against the bed. "Take a few breaths and then we'll try again."

Parker shakes his head. "No. What's the use?" He sighs. "I wish, I wish, I wish I died in that accident!"

Booth cringes, his hand going numb. "You don't mean that, Parks. You're just frustrated."

"I do mean it, dad." Parker looks away, staring at a scuff mark on the tile.

Booth takes in a shaky breath and lets it out slowly. His hand drops involuntarily from his son's shoulder, his heart racing, tears filling his eyes.

Dr. Brooks and Dr. Hunter leave the room, realizing the family needs a moment of privacy. They plaster on sympathetic smiles, shut the door behind them, and disappear down the hallway.

Brennan looks at her father. "Take Christine home, dad."

Max nods and stands up. "Come on, Chrissy."

Christine jumps up. "No, I don't wanna go!"

Brennan looks at her father again, tears blurring her vision. "Please, dad," she mouths.

Max nods. "On the way, we can stop for ice cream. How's that sound?"

Christine shakes her head and looks at her mother. "I don't wanna go, mommy. Tell Gampa I don't hafta!"

Brennan sighs. "Go with your grandfather, Honey."

Christine sighs and runs out of the room.

Max follows her, touching his daughter's shoulder as he passes her. He shuts the door behind him and catches up to his granddaughter, scooping her up and putting her on his shoulders.

Brennan gets on the floor beside her partner and leans against him, hooking her arm around his and resting her head on his shoulder. She doesn't say anything, just sits there.

Booth swallows and stares out in front of him, his son's confession echoing in his head. He knew things were going to be hard, he knew recovery wasn't going to happen overnight, but the one thing he hadn't expected was that his little boy would actually wish he didn't survive the accident. His chest tightens and he's feeling a little dizzy. Tears fall from his eyes and he clings to Brennan's arm.

She tilts her head and looks at him, sighing. She can't find the right words to say to him, not that there are any, really. She clears her throat and swallows, following the tears as they race down his cheeks. She lifts her hand and skims her palm across his face, wiping away the small droplets. She rests her hand on his shoulder, resting her head on her hand.

Booth attempts to smile, but only manages to purse his lips into a line. He looks at Parker, who's just sitting there, shaking, staring at the floor, turned away from him. He finally puts his hand back on his son's shoulder, but it's quickly shrugged off. "Parker, buddy." Silence. "Hey, bub, look at me." Nothing. He sighs. "Let me help you back into bed." More silence.

Brennan tugs on her partner's arm. "Leave him alone, Booth."

Booth whips his head around, glaring at her. "Leave him alone? You want me to leave him alone, Bones? My son just told me he wishes he was dead and you want me to just leave him alone?"

Brennan shivers at the tone in his voice. "My intention wasn't to make you angry."

"Well, you did. I am angry." Booth looks away from her and stares at his son again.

Brennan separates herself from him and scoots a little towards the door. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

Booth swallows, but doesn't speak or turn back to her. He can see out of the corner of his eye that she's still there and he can feel her looking at him. He sighs, instantly regretting snapping at her. It's not her fault or his. He's just scared and frustrated and tired. He finally looks at her again. He smiles, a small, barely visible smile, and motions for her to come closer to him. "I'm not mad at you, Bones. I'm sorry."

She hesitantly closes the gap between them and resumes her original position, her arm around his, her head on his shoulder. "He needs space, Booth. That's what I was trying to tell you."

"I know, I know, but he just told me he wishes he was dead, Bones. I can't just do nothing."

She nods.

"I feel helpless. He doesn't want my help and I can't think of anything I can do to help him."

"I can't be sure, but from experience, you being here is helping, Booth. I can't tell you how many times over the years that just your presence has made me feel better."

He smiles at her and kisses her. "I can say the same thing about you."

She shifts on the tile floor and closes her eyes. "He's not ready yet. When he's ready, he'll try again. An alcoholic won't seek out help, until he's ready to admit he has a problem. It's the same principle. Parker needs more time and we have to give it to him. You heard Dr. Brooks, we can't push him."

He nods. "I know. Thanks."

"For what?"

"Thanks for helping me be objective."

"You're welcome." She smiles and lets out a breath. "He's going to be okay, Booth. We'll get through this. We always do."

He nods, a small smile breaking through.

They spend nearly three hours on the floor. Eventually, Parker falls asleep and Booth scoops him up and tucks him back into bed. He sits in the chair and holds his son's hand while the teenager rests.

Brennan sits in the second chair and holds Booth's other hand, not taking her eyes off her partner. Just as he feels helpless with Parker, she feels the same way with Booth, but from what he told her earlier, she now truly believes her presence has been and is still making him feel better. She's helping, even if she doesn't feel like she is.