A little angst in the last chapter. This should take care of some of it.

I don't own Bones.

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The sound of the monitor beeping softly in the background, the hum of the blood pressure cuff periodically inflating and then deflating were the only extraneous noises that Brennan wanted to hear. Sitting in the hospital room, she sat next to the bed listening to her partner and husband breathing. The reassuring sight of his chest rising and falling with each breath gave her hope that her nightmare would not end tragically.

The patient, unaware of Brennan sitting so close to him softly muttered, "I'm sorry . . . I love you, Bones."

Hopeful that her husband was finally wakening, Brennan stood up and leaned over him. "Booth, please wake up . . . I need you to wake up."

His breathing painful, Booth slowly opened his eyes and saw a blurry shape leaning over him. "I'm sorry."

Her hands on the sides of his face, Brennan smiled at him. "Booth . . . Booth, I'm here. We found you and you're safe."

Blinking his eyes rapidly, he tried to clear his vision. "Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital." Glancing at his monitors and then back at her partner, Brennan explained, "It would seem you were kidnapped by Detective Carlson. He was found dead in your truck after the crash. You were in an accident on I-70 near Frederick, Maryland. The right side of your truck hit an overpass support column. You suffered a tibial shaft fracture of your right leg, four broken ribs and a collapsed right lung. You're right lung and the ribs located on that side of your chest were already weak from the damage done to it when you were shot so the blow to your chest caused your lung to collapse as your ribs fractured. You also have a concussion. You were partially protected by your airbag and seatbelt and the fact that most of the damage to the truck happened on the passenger side."

His eyes now focused on Brennan, Booth reached up, pulled his oxygen mask off and whispered. "It wasn't an accident."

Placing the mask back on his face, Brennan shook her head. "Don't talk, Booth . . . Not right now. We'll get it sorted out later."

Booth lowered his hand and stared at his wife, grateful that he hadn't left her after all.

Kissing his cheek, Brennan wiped a tear away that had escaped down her cheek. "I was so worried, Booth. Clark found your gun and phone in the parking garage when he came back from a crime scene. We knew that something was wrong, but we weren't sure what. We knew what time you left the Lab to attend a meeting, so by the time your gun was found two hours had already elapsed. I contacted Agent Harris and he put out an APB for you and your truck. The Maryland State Police finally found your truck. They weren't sure when the accident occurred, but they feel that it had happened within ten minutes of your truck being found by a passing motorist. The police contacted me when they'd found your ID in your jacket. Your contact list was still in your wallet so they knew who to call."

Slowly nodding his head, Booth took shallow breaths because of the pain he was in.

Rubbing his left shoulder, Brennan frowned. "I got here as soon as I could. Lester drove me here and he's out in the waiting room. I called Agent Harris and Chief Benson and let them know what happened. Harris was here for two days, but he had to go back to the D.C. He said he'll be back when he can. I called your grandfather and Rebecca as soon as you got out of surgery. Hank said he'd let Jared know about your condition. Angela volunteered to drive Hank up here, but he has a cold and he's afraid to give it to you. Angela and Hodgins have been here almost as long as I have been. They have a hotel room and they plan to stay until we can get you transferred back to D.C."

Tired, Booth closed his eyes and soon fell back into sleep.

Ooooooooooooooooo

Detective Burke entered the hospital room to find the man he was looking for eating pudding from a small bowl that was being held by a beautiful woman. Clearing his throat, the detective stopped just inside the doorway. "I'm Detective Sergeant Burke of the Maryland State Police. I'd like to talk to you Mr. Booth."

Placing the spoon in the bowl, Booth responded quietly. "Okay."

While he moved across the room, Burke pulled a notebook out of his jacket pocket along with a pen. "Could you tell me what happened with your truck sir? Do you remember what happened before your truck hit the overpass?"

Grimly, Booth responded, his words punctuated by pauses to breathe. "I was kidnapped by a man wanted for kidnapping and murder . . . He wanted me to drive him from Washington D.C. to . . . to upstate New York. He told me he has family in Canada and . . . he planned to go up there." Pausing, Booth waited for his breathe to return to normal. "At first I refused to take him anywhere . . . but he threatened to kill me and then kidnap my wife . . . make her drive him and then he said he'd kill her . . . I agreed to drive him where he wanted to go."

Feeling breathless, Booth stopped and closed his eyes. The pain in his chest made him feel sick.

Concerned, Brennan glared at the Detective. "Can't you wait to take a statement? Besides his other injuries, Booth is recovering from a collapsed lung and he is in pain."

Opening his eyes, Booth interrupted Brennan. "No, it's okay." Waiting for the worse of the pain to pass, Booth continued, "He told me he was going to kill me . . . and I was worried about him getting away and . . . coming back for my wife. He told me that . . . " Feeling unable to continue, Booth paused until his breathing had improved. "he said he was going to come back some day and kill Bones . . . I decided to crash my truck. I thought if I hurt him bad enough . . . that he'd be caught and he wouldn't be able to kill any more people."

Short of breath, Booth felt a little panicky. Brennan seeing his distress, held his hand tightly. "Just try to breathe normally, Booth." Detective Burke, aware that Booth was in pain and trying to cooperate, waited patiently.

"I drove off the highway and saw the overpass . . . and decided to hit one of the columns." Feeling a little nauseous, Booth swallowed. "I . . . I was going to hit a tree but I thought the . . . overpass was a better target."

Making notes, the Detective asked him, "We found a gun in the truck. Is that what Carlson threatened you with?"

Unable to speak, Booth nodded his head and didn't reply. Holding his hand over his chest, Booth tried to breathe normally.

"Alright, Supervisory Agent Harris of the FBI and the Police Chief for D.C. called and let us know that Detective Carlson was wanted on suspicion of kidnapping and murder. I guess he was tied to the Gravedigger." Flipping his notebook closed, Burke placed it back in his jacket pocket. "It took a lot of guts to aim your truck at an overpass column knowing you might be killed."

Lethargic, Booth answered quietly. "I couldn't let him get away . . . go after my wife."

Trying to control her emotions, Brennan refused to look at the detective. "Booth is a very brave man."

Burke agreed with her. "If I have any more questions, I'll contact you again." Walking over to the door the detective watched the woman lean over and kiss the injured man very gently on the lips. Feeling like an intruder, he left the room.

Oooooooooooooooo

Six days after he woke up from his coma, Booth's surgeon agreed to allow him to be transferred to D.C. After she made the arrangements, Brennan had her husband transferred to George Washington University Hospital where he could have rehabilitation and he'd be close to home.

Traveling in a small caravan, the ambulance, Brennan in Lester's car and Angela and Hodgins in his car made good time and returned to D.C before evening rush hour traffic.

After they arrived at the hospital, Booth was transferred to a private room. Once she filled out the necessary paperwork, Brennan found her husband's room and smiled when she found him using a remote to flip through various channels. "Lester said he's going to check into the Jeffersonian and make sure no one buried anymore bodies in the Rose Garden . . . I think he was joking. It seemed like he was. It was very amusing. He's been traveling back and forth between Frederick and the District for the last seven days. He wanted to keep an eye on you and do his job."

Placing the remote down on his lap, Booth shook his head. "God help my department . . . He's in charge until I get back."

Closer to the bed, Brennan leaned over and kissed him. "You wouldn't have hired him if you didn't think he could do the job."

Returning her kiss, Booth grumbled. "He has a weird ass sense of humor."

Brennan sat down on the chair next to the bed and kept her hand on his arm. "I find him very amusing."

"I know." Picking up the remote, Booth asked her, "Any chance I can get a burger and fries?"

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Reviews would be great.

A/N: see you worried too much.