Author's Note: Well, here it is, the end of my story. I just want to say thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed my story; I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Until next time, dearies ....

Metal. The unforgiving cold of stainless steel seeping through her skin, chilling her. Fractured images undulating across the plains of her mind, aimless. Unfamiliar smells permeated the blanket of sleep that coated her consciousness. Slowly, the images receded from the forefront of her thoughts as she stirred, waking. She lay with her eyes closed for many long minutes, afraid to open them and see that steel vent above her. She curled her fingers inward, testing her body's response, but stopped suddenly. Her fingers brushed against something soft, something decidedly non metallic in nature.

There was a sound, a voice that called to her from what could have been a great distance or a very close proximity. She was unsure; she was afraid. The next instant she was angry with that fear, and as if to assert control over a situation that rendered her completely helpless, she forced her eyes open.

There was no metal vent. In fact, she wasn't looking straight up; instead, the upper half of her body was inclined, affording her a full view of the room. Her eyes took in the room around her, but her brain failed to make sense of what she saw. She was … in a hospital room? That finding was incongruent with what she knew to be fact.

Just then, Booth rounded the corner into the room. He had a cup of coffee in his hands, and he was staring down at it as he stirred it. The sight of him tore open a deep chasm in her heart, and salty tears sprung to her eyes.

"Booth?" She whispered

He glanced up from his cup and their eyes met. Several indeterminate seconds passed as they merely stared at each other, either unable or unwilling to speak.

"Hey, Bones," He said at last, the first to find his voice, "How you feeling?"

"How did I get here?"

"I brought you here."

He watched a lone tear slip from her eye and fall unbidden down her alabaster cheek. He approached her side slowly, unsure of himself, unsure of her. He sat in the chair that he had dubbed as his officially, hesitantly placing his hand over hers.

"You're safe, Bones. You're in the hospital. Angela is down the hall talking to Cam."

"Parker!"

There was very little that Bones could have said in that moment to render Seeley Booth completely speechless, but his son's name did exactly that.

"Is Parker okay, Booth? Tell me he's okay, tell me that bastard didn't get him!"

"Shh, calm down, Bones. Of course Parker is okay, he's with Rebecca. Why wouldn't he be okay?"

"He got it wrong, Booth, Earl got it wrong …"

"Earl? Who is Earl?" He asked

"The man who took me, his name was Earl," She explained slowly

"No, Bones, the man who took you was Conner Swenson."

She stopped talking for a minute, and Booth could see the gears in her head turning. He said nothing, afraid that she would feel pressured and panic if he started asking too many questions.

"He knew my name," She told him, "When I asked him if he had a name, he said he couldn't remember it. Told me to call him Earl. Conner, Earl, whatever his name was … listen to me, Booth, there was a flaw in his logic. He was wrong."

"About what?" He asked, noting the rising tone of her voice

"He said that you had to pay. That you took away a life more important to him than his own, so he was going to repay you in kind."

"Bones," He said soothingly, picking up the panic lacing her voice

"No, Booth, listen to me! He thought that by taking me he was ruining you. He was certain of it. The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that the only reason he thought so was because he didn't know you had a son!"

Clarity crashed in on him then. What Bones was telling him suddenly made a sick, twisted kind of sense. Had that man known about Parker, surely he would have chosen him over Brennan?

"I lied to him," She continued, her voice evening out then, "I lied to him and made him believe that we were lovers. I couldn't let him know about Parker. I had to make him think … I had to believe …"

She let her sentence trail off. He said nothing, but her words stuck with him. Had she been about to say "I had to believe we were lovers"? Of course not. Not Bones, his hyper rational partner. She was obviously in shock, unaware of what she was saying.

"I just kept saying the same thing to myself, over and over again," She began again, "I just kept saying Don't cry out. I repeated it over and over again. I was afraid, when I found out that he'd drugged me, I was afraid that I had said Parker's name."

"Sweetie!"

Angela's voice cut into the room, followed closely by the woman herself. She went straight to Brennan's other side and threw her arms around her friend in a hug.

"Ange," Brennan said, smiling her first smile then

"God, Sweetie, I was so afraid!" She said, stepping back to look at her friend, "You were gone for so long!"

"What do you mean, Ange? What day is it?"

Angela and Booth exchanged uncomfortable glances. Brennan tried to read their expressions, tried to pick up on whatever silent conversation they were having.

"Listen, Bones," Booth started, squeezing the hand he was still holding, "You were taken Tuesday night, not long after you left the lab."

"What day is it, Booth?" She asked evenly

"What day do you think it is, sweetie?" Angela asked

"It's hard to say. I drifted in and out of consciousness for awhile… Thursday maybe?"

"It's 7:28 on Sunday morning, Bones," Booth told her gently

She heard what he said, waited for her brain to process the information, but nothing happened. She ran the word over and over in her head: Sunday, Sunday, Sunday. Four days; she had been missing for four days. She tried to recall the events of those days, but there were large gaps in her stream of consciousness.

"Temperance."

The sound of her partner's voice, the worry that flecked his tone, caught her attention more than his use of her first name. He was studying her face, no doubt gauging her reactions. Beside her, Angela looked worried and tense.

"There are gaps," She explained, "Long streams of nothing, no memories."

"Although it's not one of the more common side effects," Another voice chimed in, "High doses of Phenobarbital have been known to cause problems with memory."

Cam stepped into the room, coming to stand at the end of her bed. Behind her, Hodgins and Sweets filtered into the room as well. They smiled at her, told her how glad they were to see her again. Seeing them all, standing in her room and offering their silent support, a chord was struck somewhere deep in her chest. She cared for … no, loved the people standing in her room, and they loved and cared about her. They were a family; her family.

"How long have I been here, in the hospital?" She asked, her voice thick with emotion

"Close to eight hours now. The doctors have you under surveillance. They want to be sure that your body has purged the last of the barbiturate, and they have a few more tests to run," Cam answered

"What tests?"

"Well, you lost a lot of blood from the … procedure," Cam said carefully, "So they want to be sure that you're recovering at a satisfactory rate. Mostly they want to test you for any signs of a Prion disease."

"Prion disease? Why?"

"Conner Swenson had a rare form of Prion disease called Acquired Creutzfeldt - Jakob disease, or CJD for short," Hodgins spoke up then, "It's normally an inherited disease, but it can also be acquired through iatrogenic transmission."

"Iatro - what?" Booth queried

"Iatrogenic transmission: accidental exposure to CJD contaminated material through a medical procedure using tainted human matter or instruments," Hodgins clarified, "The doctors want to be sure that you weren't exposed to the disease when he cut you open."

Angela flinched when he threw out the "cut you open" sentence, causing Brennan to smile. She knew her friend was concerned that his terminology would upset her, but it didn't bother her.

"And if she was exposed?" Booth asked

Bones was the first to answer.

"CJD is a form of Prion disease. It damages the brain , often manifesting itself through dementia. Conner most likely suffered from dementia, which is probably why he did what he did."

"Is it treatable?"

Brennan hesitated before answering.

"No," She stated in her no nonsense tone, "CJD is incurable, and ultimately leads to death."

The room was silent. Her eyes never left her partner's face, and she thought she could see him turn a pale shade of white. She turned her hand palm up under his and squeezed.

"When will the tests be back?" She asked, tearing her gaze away from Booth

"A few hours, according to your doctor," Hodgins informed her

"We were just about to eat some breakfast, Sweetie," Angela said suddenly, glancing meaningfully at her counterparts, "We'll be back in a little bit. Want us to bring you anything?"

"No, thanks."

"When's the last time you ate, Temperance?"

This time it was the use of her first name that caught her attention. Booth was fixing her with that stern look of his, the one he used when suspects were being particularly uncooperative.

"I'm not sure, actually," She responded honestly, "Logically, I would have to say lunch on Tuesday."

"We'll bring you back a salad," Angela told her, ushering the rest of them towards the door, "We'll bring you something too, Booth."

The rest of them filed out, leaving her alone with Booth once more. Neither one of them spoke at first; Brennan kept her gaze fixed on their joined hands. Such a strange sensation, holding her partner's hand. They were not normally given to physical contact, so she was mildly surprised to find that his touch calmed her.

"Listen, Bones," He started gently, "I'm a little confused about something. I was hoping you could clear it up for me."

"Sure, Booth."

"You said that you feared for my son's life, basically. How is it that a woman who doesn't want children would come to protect a child that wasn't hers, at the expense of her own life and well being?"

"I was lying there, strapped to that table," She said after a long pause, "And I knew that I couldn't help you."

"You were worried about helping me?" He repeated, incredulous

"Yes. When I figured out his mistake, all I could think about was what it would do to you if it was Parker on that table, instead of me. You're a strong man, Booth, a great example of an Alpha male, but I don't think you could ever make it back from that. So I vowed then and there to keep your son's existence a secret, to protect him the only way I could, and through him, you."

A very strange sound pervaded her ears then, a sound that seemed to be a combination of two very distinct and different sounds. Even more disturbing than the sound itself, she was almost convinced that it had come from her partner. He was looking down, away from her, but she was certain that it had come from his throat.

"Booth …?" She prodded gently

Booth raised his head then, and her breath hitched in her chest when she saw his expression. His chocolate eyes glistened with what could only be unshed tears, and scowl lines marked the space between his eyes. She had upset him.

"I didn't mean to …"

"How did they do it?" He interrupted her

"How did who do what?"

"Your father and brother, how did they willingly leave you? How could they ever choose to be without you?"

The hand of his that was not still encased in her own came to brush a strand of hair out of her eyes, then traced down her face to come to rest as a hook under her chin. The air around them changed, became charged and heavy. Her gaze never left his as he leaned toward her, bringing their lips together in a slow, soft kiss.

The moment didn't last long, and sooner than she would have liked he was pulling away. He reseated himself in the chair, their hands still joined on the bed at her side. He smiled that crooked smile she had come to know so well, and she felt an answering smile light her face.

"You have more heart than anyone I know, Temperance."

"You know, if you're going to start calling me by my first name you may as well just call me Tempe, like everyone else. It's not logical to say my first name every time you address me; it takes too much time."

Booth laughed at that, the first time he had done so since she had been taken. Leave it to Bones to impose logic on a completely emotional situation.

"So," Booth said, his business like tone taking over again, "Do you think Conner Swenson knew he was dying?"

"Hard to say. People who suffer from dementia obviously don't see the world clearly, so it's possible that he didn't know. From an opposing view point, if he did know that could be why he decided that you needed to be brought to justice. The disease could have deluded him into believing that what he was doing was for the sake of justice."

"Either way, Swenson will spend what's left of his life behind bars," He assured her, "The man's lucky my focus was on something else entirely, or I would have shot him. Hell, I should go back and shoot him now."

"You don't mean that," She chided

"Not now I don't, but I think if I would have found him after he mailed us your skin, well … there's no telling what I would have done."

"He mailed you my skin?" She asked, disbelieving

"Yeah," Booth answered, nodding, "That's what lead us to you. He wrapped the package in brown paper with an old Navy stamp on it."

"Was it a lot?"

She could tell that her question made him uncomfortable, but she waited for an answer anyway.

"It was … about two inches long, and very nearly to your bone."

"He got the idea from the ancient Chinese," She informed him, "They used to …"

"Not now, Bones," He cut her off, "I already have enough information to process."

"Sorry."

They fell quiet again and sat in companionable silence for some time before being interrupted by a doctor.

"Welcome back, Dr. Brennan," Her physician greeted, "I trust you're feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you. Have my test results come back yet?"

"I see you've been brought to speed on the situation," He replied, glancing at Booth, "Regardless, you're test results have indeed come back."

"And?" Booth prompted

There was no hiding the almost tangible anxiety in his voice. The sound warmed Brennan's heart, proof that there was someone else out there who cared about where she was and what happened to her. A very welcome revelation.

"The tests all came back negative, Dr. Brennan. You do not have CJD, or any other Prion disease."

Booth's breath left him in a whoosh and he dropped his chin to his chest. That old feeling of helpless fear had come back to him in those few moments, when it looked like there could be an enemy he would be powerless to save her from.

"So, am I cleared to leave then?"

"We'd like to keep you until later this evening, just to be sure that you're recovering satisfactorily. After that, you're a free woman. I'll leave you to relax; page the nurse if you need anything."

"Thank you," Bones said as her doctor left

She glanced at Booth and smiled at the relief she saw on his face. He had really been afraid for her.

"I can't wait to go home," She said happily, as if a thick veil had been lifted from around her

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Bones, but you're not going home."

"What? Why not?'

"Do you really think that I'm going to let you out of my sight after an incident like this?"

"Don't be irrational, Booth," She chided, "You can't be with me 24/7."

"I beg to differ. When you get out of here, you're coming home with me."

"Absolutely not."

"There's no arguing with me, Bones, my mind is made up."

"Fine, if you're so set in your thinking then you can come live with me, in my apartment."

"Why your apartment?" He challenged

"Because it's nicer, of course."

He snorted in exasperation. She glared at him from her hospital bed, that same look of stubborn determination lighting her features as he had seen it do so many times before. She was never going to let him win at this.

Booth started to laugh then, and it wasn't long before Bones was smiling at him. Even after everything they had been through in the last week, they were still back to their old bickering selves. He knew this, was comfortable with it; hell, he even loved it. Arguing with Bones wasn't like arguing with anyone else.

"Fine," He acquiesced, "I'll come live with you, in your apartment."

"Really?"

"You sound surprised."

"Well, it's just … you usually put up more of a fight, that's all."

"Try not to sound so disappointed, Bones," He laughed, "It's been a long week. Right now I'm too thankful that you're still alive to argue with you. Give it a day or two, I'm sure everything will be back to normal."

She smiled at him again, that beautiful thousand watt smile that he loved to see. Conner Swenson hadn't been totally wrong; if he had taken Bones from him, he would have been broken. She was so ingrained in his life now that there was no way to extricate her without causing him great pain. Despite all the reasons not to, despite all the walls he'd fashioned against her, Temperance Brennan had taken root in his heart.

"Are you really going to come live with me, Booth?"

"Yes, at least at first. I won't be satisfied unless I'm directly responsible for your safety. After the first little bit, well, we'll see what happens."

There was a feisty glint in her bright eyes when she asked him her next question.

"Does that mean I get to call you Seeley?"

The sound of his laughter, full and warm hearted, reverberated down the hallway.

Acquired Creutzfeldt - Jakob Disease (CJD): an inherited disease that can also be acquired throught iatrogenic transmission - accidental exposure to CJD prion contaminated material through a medical procedure using tainted human matter or surgical instruments. The disease damages the brain, often manifesting in the form of dementia.

Lingchi (Slow Slicing): Consists of cuts to the arms, legs and chest leading to amputation of limbs and followed by decapitation or a stab to the heart. Ancient Chinese form of torture, called also "Death by a thousand cuts". Used from roughly 900 A.D. until it was outlawed in 1905.