Booth gripped the edge of the sink, trying to keep from collapsing, shaky from the searing pain. He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he checked the wad of gauze on his wound. Both the gauze and his shirt were saturated with his own blood.

Exhaling slowly, he let go of the sink and tried to rinse out the gauze. Gut shot. He knew it could mean a slow and painful death. The rush of blood had slowed to a steady trickle, but he couldn't get it to stop completely. He'd tried to apply pressure to the wound, hoping to make the blood clot, but every move he made kept the wound open and oozing.

He studied himself in the mirror. Even under his tan he could see the paleness seeping in around his lips. He realized he might be fighting a losing battle, but he had to act like he felt strong enough to keep the jackals in the other room at bay. They were waiting for any reason to tear into him….

Booth grabbed the sink again as dizziness washed over him. He shook it off, and glared at himself in the mirror. He had to be strong for another reason. Bones didn't know where he was. He couldn't stand the thought of what she was going through...how worried she must be. He had to survive to tell her the truth. He couldn't die without her knowing what had really happened. She might be thinking the worst about him, wondering why he had done these things and why he'd kept it from her...why he was mixed up with Jared again, putting himself in danger. He had to set the record straight. He had to get out of this mess and tell her everything.

He gritted his teeth, pulled himself straight, and pounded the edge of the sink with his fist. He had to see Bones again. He'd use that thought to provide him the strength and the will to survive…...