"There's no way you can carry me all the way down this mountain," Brennan said as Booth was settling her in his arms.

What they didn't need was left in a neat pile in the trees. There had been no sign of other people since Brennan had arrived days ago, and they weren't worried the items would disappear. Still, Hodgins hoped they could retrieve them quickly, so he didn't have to explain to the Jeffersonian why he'd taken them to begin with.

"I'll carry you," he said calmly.

After that, there was very little talking.

Hodgins lead the way, making sure Booth's path was clear. He had to not only watch his footing, but also make sure he wasn't jostling Bones too much. Her broken leg was tucked against him, and Booth protected it as much as he could, but it was still uncomfortable for her.

But Brennan never complained. Several times, though, Booth stopped when the pain was obviously too much for her and tears ran down her cheeks.

Booth thought about all the times she had scared him or broken his heart. He wondered if there was a graveyard filled with pieces of himself somewhere out there. Each piece with its own headstone, detailing the date and just what she'd done to him that time.

But the thought was morbid, and he chased it away. Instead, he sent up a prayer of thanks that Bones was still alive and well enough that it didn't appear to him she was in any danger of dying. At least until he killed her for scaring him like this.