Okay, so I know I should be writing 'Back To Me, Back To You' and not starting another chapter story, but I couldn't let this story go unread, so I'm going to try and juggle the two. I have started chapter 3 or BTMBTY after several weeks of writers block, so it should be up by the middle of next week at the latest. Thanks for sticking by me :)

Anyway, I hope you like this story. It's something I've wanted to write for a while.

What's going on will become more clear in the next chapter, but let's have some fun. Tell me what you think is going on and see if you can guess right :D

I'd like to thank *bookwormlady* for pointing out that I had been spelling "Hodgins" as "Hodgens" all this time. I had no idea I was doing that lol

Disclaimer: I don't own 'Bones', but I'm ok with it. I will leave the show in the capable hands of Hart Hanson :)

Warning: There is no character death, but my eyes did get a little misty while writing this XD

The light shined through her window and cast a warm glow across her face. Her eyes fluttered open then closed when the light hurt. She rolled over and looked at the clock. 5:59am. She turned off the alarm before it could blare at her. Beat the clock again, she thought to herself with a satisfied smile. Stretching her arms out to the sides as she sat up, Brennan let out a deep yawn and climbed out of bed, stripping off her tank top and shorts on her way into her bathroom to ready herself for the day ahead.

********

Half an hour later Brennan was showered, dressed, and ready to go. She clasped her maroon beaded necklace around her neck just as there came a knock at her door. Knowing who it was, she smiled at his timing. She slipped on her boots, grabbed the two reusable coffee thermoses and walked to the door, opening it to reveal her partner with his fist ready to knock again. When he saw her, he smiled instantly.

"Morning, Bones," said Booth, stepping back to let her out.

"Good morning, Booth," she said with a smile, handing him one of the coffees and shutting the door and locking it.

"Thanks," he said, taking a sip and starting for the stairs with his hand on the small of her back.

"Have they found the suspect yet?" she asked as they approached the SUV.

"Not yet, but Charlie says they should by this afternoon," he replied as they both got in their respective seats.

"Great," Brennan nodded.

The rest of the drive to the Jeffersonian was in comfortable silence. He pulled right up to the door for her and she unbuckled her seat belt.

"See you at lunch?" she asked as she opened the door.

"If I don't take you to lunch, are you going to eat?"

"Probably not,"

"Then you know you'll see me at lunch," he smiled.

Her smile mimicked his as she exited the vehicle and walked to the door. He waited until she was inside before pulling away.

There was nothing more she could do with the current victim to help the case, so Brennan went straight to Limbo to work on naming some lost souls.

The day passed decently fast. Brennan had identified two bodies by the time Booth came to take her to lunch.

********

They were sitting in their usual booth at the Royal Diner in front of the window, enjoying each other's company and finishing their meals when Booth's phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and put it to his ear. "Booth."

He listened for a moment before thanking the person on the other end of the line and hanging up.

"That was Charlie," he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. "There's been a sighting of our suspect."

"Where?" Brennan asked, taking one last drink of water before they both stood.

"The warehouse district," Booth held the door for Brennan and followed her to the SUV.

"Let's go," she said once they were both in the car.

They sped down the highway towards their destination in a comfortable silence. It didn't occur to either partner that this could end badly.

They stopped beside one of the warehouses, exited the vehicle and stood for a moment, listening carefully for any sound that would give away the location on their suspect. As they came to stand next to each other in front of the SUV, they suddenly heard what sounded like something hitting metal, making a loud clang. Booth drew his gun and motioned for Brennan to stand behind him. Not wanting to argue in such a delicate situation, she complied and followed his slow pace around the building. Booth peered around the corner and saw their suspect, Robert Dow, pounding a lid onto an oil drum. He turned the corner quickly, keeping his aim on the suspect.

"Robert Dow," he shouted, gaining the man's attention. "This is the FBI. You're under arrest for the murder of Clark Dow."

The guy just stared at him wide-eyed for a moment before swiftly drawing his own gun and aiming it at Booth.

"I didn't kill my brother! It was an accident!" the man cried.

"Just put the gun down, give a confession and you'll go to jail for a lesser sentence," Booth tried to bargain.

Brennan peered around the corner and saw the man aiming a gun at her partner.

"I'd rather die!" Dow cocked his gun and Brennan could see his finger twitch.

She jumped out from behind the corner, afraid of what he would do if she didn't catch his attention. "Wait!" she screamed just as the man pulled the trigger, he turned his aim at Brennan.

"NO!" was the last thing Brennan heard Booth say as he was in front of her in a flash.

Dow turned and ran away as Booth felt a burning pain in his chest and collapsed to the ground right in front of his partner.

"Booth!" Brennan cried, closing the short distance between them and falling to her knees at his side. His breaths were short and quick. A bright red stain had already claimed the front of his shirt. She pulled off her jacket and balled it up, pressing it to the wound with her right hand and grabbing his hand with her left.

"B-Bones..." he choked out in less than a whisper.

He squeezed her fingers tightly, but then his grip began to weaken little by little. His eyes were wide and full of fear as they bore into hers. She heard the sirens of their backup in the background, but never took her eyes off his.

"They're coming, Booth! Just hang on! Please! Hang on!" she cried, tears falling from her eyes and onto the rapidly growing blood stain. "Just hang on, Booth! Please hold on!"

He barely sucked in half a ragged breath before his eyes clouded over and he released it. His chest stopped rising and falling.

"NO! Booth, please! Please! No!" she sobbed, caressing his face with her free hand and keeping pressure on the wound. "Please, Booth. Don't leave," she whimpered, tears falling freely down her face. "You promised you wouldn't..."

********

Brennan sat silent and motionless in her desk chair in her office, staring out into space. No one had come back from lunch yet, so she hadn't yet had to explain the blood on her hands when she was dropped off at the Jeffersonian a half hour ago by an FBI agent she didn't even know the name of. And she had yet had the displeasure of telling everyone that they had lost a part of their team. A part of each of them. She hadn't even bothered to wash the blood, his blood, off yet and it was starting to darken and dry to her skin.

She was pulled from her thoughts by the sounds of people laughing and talking as they entered the lab. She looked up to see Cam, Angela and Hodgins coming in the entrance. Angela saw Brennan watching from her office and broke off from the group, heading in the direction of her best friend. When she got closer, she could see the pained expression on her face. When she got to the door, she saw the blood.

"Oh, my God! Sweetie, what happened?! Are you ok?!" she asked, hurrying over to her friend.

"I'm fine, Ange. This isn't mine," she replied in a low monotone voice, never even looking at Angela.

"Who's is it?" she dared to inquire.

Brennan then looked up at Angela with tears in her eyes. "It's Booth's," she said in a slightly higher-pitched voice. "He's gone, Ange." she whispered.

Angela's eyes grew wide and filled with tears instantly. "What?"

"He did it again. He stepped in front of a bullet meant for me," she said, her voice raising. "Him and his damn alpha-male, protectiveness got him shot again!" she shouted, anger consuming her as she pounded her fist down on the desk with a boom. "I can't believe him! Why would he do that again after he nearly died last time?!" she stood, facing Angela. "The only difference this time is he's not coming back! He's not going to just show up at his funeral! He's never coming back." her voice was becoming more laced with sobs with each word. "Because he's gone," she whimpered, suddenly quiet again. "He's gone, Ange."

Angela, who was crying full force by now, didn't know what else to do other than throw her arms around her best friend and hold her as they both let the sobs take over.

After a few minutes, Angela broke away and looked into Brennan's sad eyes.

"Bren, you need to wash your hands. It's not good to keep it," she said softly and compassionately.

Brennan just nodded and followed Angela as she lead her to the bathrooms with her hand on Brennan's wrist. Once inside they went over to the sinks and Brennan turned on the faucet of one. She stuck her hands under the hot water and watched as the last traces of him were taken from her skin and pulled down the drain. The water turned a sickly pink in the sink as she scrubbed with a handful of soap. Angela just watched her friend's face, then finally broke the silence.

"Would you like me to tell the others?" she asked softly.

Brennan nodded as a new batch of tears fell from her eyes.

For the rest of the day, Brennan didn't say one word. She stayed in her office with the door shut. Mostly she stared at nothing, but once in a while she would look out to the plat form and see Cam or Angela, or even Hodgins, crying when they thought no one was looking. It made her feel slightly better, knowing how loved he was.

It was five when Angela knocked on the glass office door and opened it, poking her head in.

"Sweetie, we're all going to Founding Fathers for a drink in honor of Booth. Everyone's going. Hodgins, Cam, Wendell, Sweets, Jared and a bunch of FBI guys...." she said, her voice shaking a gravely from crying all day. "Even Director Cullin," she smiled slightly. "Did you want to come?"

"No thanks, Ange. I think I'm just going to go home and go to bed," replied Brennan in the same gravely voice as her friend.

"Ok, but the offer still stands. Call me if you need anything."

"I will. Thanks."

With a warm smile, Angela left.

********

Once home, she stripped of her clothes, slipped on an over-sized T-shirt, and fell into bed. It was only 5:58pm, but she figured no matter when she went to bed, she was not going to be able to sleep. Brennan lay there silently, images of Booth running through her mind. Everything from the first time she met him, to the smile he had on that morning, to the fear in his eyes as he lay in front of her, dying. She crawled under the blankets, folded herself into a ball, and began to cry.

********

Brennan's eyes fluttered open, then quickly closed when the light streaming through the window stung. She rolled over and opened her eyes again, looking at the clock. 5:59am, but she didn't remember falling asleep.

She started to stand up when reality hit and knocked the breath right out of her and she sat back down. Suddenly the sobs rocked her body once more. Booth was gone. There was no changing that. He was gone because of her.

Finally calming down enough to stand, she headed towards her bathroom. As she passed the full-length mirror on the closet door, she stopped and stared at herself for a moment. She was in shorts and a tank top. The previous night was a bit of a haze, but she distinctly remembered wearing a large T-shirt to bed. Not the same shorts and top she had worn the night before. Suddenly, there was a knock on her door. She glanced at the clock. 6:30am on the dot. Could it be? Could have been just a nightmare? With an odd flutter of hope, she ran to the door and threw it open. Her eyes grew wide.

"Morning, Bones," Booth smiled, but it quickly went away and his brow furrowed when he saw her condition. "You ok? You're pale as a ghost and still in your pajamas."

She didn't respond. She did nothing but stare at him in wide-eyed shock.

"Bones, what's wrong? Are you sick?" he asked, becoming concerned.

Without thought, she threw her arms around his neck and started to quietly sob.

Like a reflex, he pulled her into him, stroking her back to try to calm her.

"Would you please tell me what's wrong, Bones? Why are you crying?"

"Nothing's wrong," she gasped between sobs. "Not anymore. It was just a bad dream."

"It must have been awful to make you cry like that."

She pulled away, his hands still on her back, and placed her left hand on his cheek and her right hand over his beating heart, and sighed with a smile, "You have no idea."

To Be Continued!

Well, was it just a bad dream? A sighting of the future, maybe? Or is it something else...? Find out in the next chapter! :D