The Final Goodbye

By: DKM

Rating: T

Pairing: Brennan/Booth

Season: Post 3.14

Category: Angst/Tragedy

Synopsis: It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. But what about a love never acknowledged?

A/N: My muses suck… But that's good for you guys because you have more to read! Unfortunately for me, that means having to deal with a whole lot of confusing dialogues, plotlines, and lord knows what else those two decide to throw at me. I'm hanging on to sanity by a thread. It'll only be a matter of time before the men in white coats take me away and throw me into a room padded with bubble wrap. Anyone care to join me?

Special thanks to wrthy2bluvd for beta-ing my story. I know I'm such a pain in the ass to her, so I have to thank her for being so patient with me. Luv ya chica!

Disclaimer: All "Bones" characters belong to FOX. I'm just using them to please my muses for the time being. I'm not making any money, I swear! This is just a great way to deal with the crappy life I live.

--

Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I'm trying not to think about you
Can't you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
I should've known you'd bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do

"Almost Lover" - A Fine Frenzy

"Come on!" Temperance Brennan screamed, her heart still racing as she put as much pressure on the bullet wound as she could. The effort felt futile with the amount of blood he'd already lost, but she had to try. He was her partner, her friend, the one person she'd learned to count on in the last three years. He couldn't leave her like this, he couldn't be there one moment and gone the next. She wouldn't let him.

"Come on, Booth!" she yelled again when she saw the light fading in his eyes. 'No! No! NO!' her mind screamed. The lump in her throat grew. She didn't think she could take this anymore. She couldn't watch him die. It was unfair. That bullet was meant for her, not him. He never should have tried to save her. He had so much more to live for. What would his son do? What would his family do?

His eyes started to close. "No, Booth!" she cried, the inevitable tears finally beginning to flow. "Don't leave me!" She was frantic now, but before she could lose her grip on reality, a pair of hands pulled her aside. Two paramedics took her place and she was dragged another ten feet and made to sit in a chair watching the events unfold in front of her.

A pair of arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a comforting embrace. She buried her face into the shoulder finding it to be that of her best friend. "It's okay… He'll be okay…" Words that were meant to be comforting sounded forced. Even she could see how perilous this situation was.

"We're losing him!" one of the paramedics shouted to the other. She wrapped her arms around her friend and began to sob. No, this couldn't be happening. Not Booth… Not her pillar of strength… Not the man that had seen her through the best and worst times thus far…

"Let's go!" the other paramedic shouted.

She pulled away from her friend's comforting embrace and watched as her partner was carted out of the little club on a stretcher. "I'm going with you," her voice was strong, defiant. She wasn't going to give upon him that easily. He'd never done that to her. He'd been the driving force behind her reconciliation with her father. He never gave up even when she thought it was pointless. No, she couldn't give up on him, wouldn't give up on him. There was still so much she had to tell him, so much she needed to say.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. It's already too crowded," one of the paramedics said. He used his body to block the exit until his partner and their driver loaded her friend into the back of the waiting ambulance. He hopped in just before the doors shut and they were off like a rocket towards the closest hospital, leaving her to look on in shock and silence.

Her friend sidled up to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Oh, God, Ange…" her voice trailed off as another round of tears escaped her red rimmed eyes.

"It's alright, Sweetie," Angela Montenegro replied, hugging her tightly as tears flowed from her own eyes. "Why don't we head to the hospital?"

The ride was impossibly silent, their minds in a state of shock that wasn't helped much when they arrived in the emergency room. No one came to talk to them; no one came to tell them what was going on. Brennan paced the waiting room, her hands still stained with his blood. Any time she glanced down at them, they started to shake as the memory assaulted her senses full force.

Angela was quick to notice, pulling her towards the bathroom to help her clean up. Her friend didn't protest much, allowing herself to be dragged into the small room. As they stood in front of the sink beneath the harsh fluorescent lights, Brennan finally got a glimpse as to just how horrible this experience had been. Through the mirror she could see the bloodstains that smeared her shirt and jeans, staining them a deep maroon just like her hands. His blood…

Her fragile reserve crumbled as the tears flowed freely down her pale cheeks for the third time that night. This type of pain was unknown to her. It ripped through her heart like a sharp knife splitting her open much worse than when her parents disappeared. At least then she'd had hope they would come back. Now, her partner's fate was uncertain. And it scared her to death. Her head dropped as her shoulders shuddered with every sob that escaped her lips.

This was the first time Angela had seen her friend come undone and fall apart. She thought she'd seen everything there was to see where Temperance Brennan was concerned, but this was brand new. The rawness of her cries echoed against the tiles making them sound ten times worse. Her own heart broke knowing there was nothing she could do to help her friend aside from be there for her just as she always had in the past.

They remained in that small bathroom for a good half hour as Brennan cried until her sobs turned into hiccups and she could cry no more. It was then that Angela gently took her hands and ran them beneath the faucet, scrubbing away the remnants of her partner's blood. She calmed down again, but her eyes had become empty and distant. Again, that helpless feeling washed over Angela.

"Come on," she said softly, pulling her friend by the arm towards the door. "Let's go see if they've got any news." Brennan allowed her to wrap an arm around her waist and lead her back into the waiting room, but her eyes remained unfocused. It looked as if she'd given up hope that her partner would survive this. It was a harder sight to witness than her painful sobs.

Guiding her to a chair, Angela left her side momentarily to find out any information. Brennan was left to sit alone, her mind lost on the thoughts of the past ten hours. Everything that led up to the shooting was evaluated and reevaluated to the point where her mind began to jumble the facts and throw in multiple scenarios that could have happened, all of which involved her getting shot instead of him. Why? Why did he put himself in harms way for her? Why did he have to save her? She was but one person he could do without, so why did he put his life on the line for her?

The answer was so simple, so incredibly obvious that when it hit her, it felt like being run over by a freight train. He cared about her more than he let on. The lump in her throat began to grow again, but just as another round of tears was making its way past her fragile defenses, her salvation came in the form of her best friend sitting down beside her with a tiny smile on her face.

"Sweetie," Angela said, gently rubbing her arms allowing her eyes to focus on her through the veil of unshed tears. "He's out of surgery. The doctor said you could go see him for a few minutes, but he said it doesn't look good."

Although the weight hadn't been lifted off her shoulders, there was still some hope to hold on to. Brennan wrapped her arms around her friend and spoke for the first time in several hours. "Will you come with me?" she whispered, her voice tiny, child-like.

"Of course," Angela replied. They both rose off their seats and headed down the hall, stopping at the nurses' station to get the room number and directions. Following a long corridor past the emergency room, they rode an elevator up to the third floor where the intensive care unit was located. From that point on it was a long walk down the dark, quiet hall with eyes scanning the doors looking for the one marked 3009.

Angela paused, grabbing Brennan's hand to stop her as well. "Sweetie," she said, flicking her eyes to the left of where the stood. Room 3009. Brennan stared for several long moments before looking over at her friend. Lightly squeezing her hand, Angela nodded before letting go and stepping back.

Taking a deep breath, Brennan grabbed the door handle and pushed it open. As her eyes adjusted to the nearly nonexistent light, she made out the figure of the man in the bed. A few steps closer and she stopped, unable to move, unable to breathe. She tried to remember the last time she'd felt this scared and realized it was about a year and a half since her last brush with death: buried alive in a car, running out of air. But at that time, she'd known he'd be there to save her, and he had.

Who would save him now? Who could save him? She had obviously failed, and now she was left to pick up the pieces. No matter how well she'd been able to compartmentalize, how well she'd been able to adjust to different situations, watching someone she knew, someone she cared about lie so preciously close to death was something she could never come to grips with. The lump in her throat returned, and this time there was no one to save her from herself. Several tears slipped down her cheeks as she stared at her partner, her lifeline for the last three years, lifelessly lying on the bed a few feet from where she stood.

Brennan forced herself to walk those last few steps. She needed to know just how bad it was, just how much hope she had to go on, and from what she saw now that she was up close and person wasn't good. He was so pale. Her hand moved on its own volition to wrap around his. He was so cold. No, this couldn't be the same Seeley Booth she'd known only hours earlier. This had to be someone else.

Denial was such an easy out, Brennan knew, so she forced herself to look at his face and confirm, once and for all, that this was her partner. And when she did, her tears continued to flow freely as her body collapsed into the chair set beside his bed. . "No," she choked back her sob. Her other hand went to cover her mouth as she closed her eyes and dipped her head. "God, damn it, Booth…" Her head shot up. "You can't do this to me!" she practically yelled at him. "You promised me!" Another choked sob and she lowered her voice, "You promised… You can't leave me…" She had to pause to swallow the lump in her throat. This was getting to be a little too much for her. The pain, the heartache, the uncertainty… It was just too much to bear. She stood up and practically ran out of the room into the waiting arms of her best friend who cradled her until she was too weak to stand.

Angela led her back towards the waiting room past all their worried colleagues who looked in their direction with pained expression and out the door to the parking lot. Her car was parked just a few feet from the door and within moments, she and Brennan were headed back to Brennan's apartment. Staying at the hospital would only prove to be detrimental to her mental health.

Another half hour of silence passed as they drove down the lightly congested streets of Washington, DC. The sun was just breaking through the early morning clouds when Angela pulled into a parking space at the front of her building and turned off the car. But Brennan didn't move. Again, her eyes were blank and distant. "Sweetie," Angela softly said as she placed a hand on her friend's shoulder and squeezed lightly.

Brennan's head bobbed up, but her eyes stared at her unfocused. "Bren?" Angela asked, afraid she had become completely withdrawn and flat out depressed. A blink, then two, and she finally made a sound that sounded like a soft sigh. "We're home," Angela added, but made no move to get out of the car until her friend was ready to do so as well.

"Yeah, okay," Brennan answered, her voice just as distant as her eyes. She pushed open her door and a few minutes later, the pair was treading into her apartment. Angela sat down on the couch as Brennan headed for the bedroom. She wanted to change out of the bloodstained clothes into something that wouldn't remind her of her partner every time she looked at it.

From her dresser she grabbed an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats, and started to change into them until she caught sight of some of the trinkets she'd accumulated over the last three years; his gifts to her. She picked up her favorite, Jasper the little pink pig, and held it in her hand. A smile instantly crossed her lips at the memory. She remembered the look on his face when he'd given it to her. Her joy had been reflected in his eyes, and for a moment, she'd felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. It stemmed from deep in her heart and warmed her from the inside. It was a feeling she'd never felt before, and hoped to feel again.

That was, until her phone began to ring in her pocket. Brennan put the little figurine back down on the dresser and pulled out the little PDA. Reading the caller ID, she felt her hand begin to tremble. "Unknown" flashed several times over and over as it continued to ring. She didn't know why she felt her heart begin to beat faster or why she suddenly dreaded taking the call, but she pressed the answer button and held it over her ear. "Dr. Brennan," she said as professionally as she could, hoping her fear wouldn't get picked up.

"Dr. Brennan, this is Dr. Miller. I was Agent Booth's doctor," the man on the other end said. Was… Oh, no. That couldn't possibly be good. She stood stock still, the blood pounding in her ears as she waited for him to continue. "I'm sorry, but we did all we could…"

She didn't hear the rest. Her phone dropped from her hand and landed on the hardwood floor with a clatter. She stood for several moments afterwards, replaying those last few words in her mind until it sunk in.

She lost it. Every last shred of her fragile reserve was blasted away as she fell to her knees and screamed out at the top of her lungs, "WHY? BOOTH, WHY?"

The blood curdling scream prompted Angela to fly off the couch and run to the bedroom to find her curled up on the floor in the fetal position, bawling her eyes out as she rambled incoherently. She knew the worst had happened and snatched up the phone, turning it off immediately along with her own. There was no need to receive anymore phone calls with the same news. It would only cause Brennan to fall deeper into her pit of loathing and despair.

Tears stung her own eyes as she got down on the floor beside her friend and curled around her, cocooning her in the warmth of an embrace she knew wouldn't be enough. But she had to try. The pain of losing someone that was so close was a pain she'd felt once as well, when her mother passed nearly a decade earlier. Brennan had been there for her, and now she was returning the favor to the best of her ability.

Together they grieved for the next several hours, well after the sun had come up and illuminated the morning sky casting long shadows through the window blinds. They cried until exhaustion took over, throwing them into a fitful sleep that lasted until evening. When Brennan woke up to find herself still on the floor lying in her best friend's arms, she knew her nightmare had been real, and that it was time to face the music, no matter how hard it would be. She'd given in to the pain, now she needed to pick up the pieces. After all, she was the master of compartmentalization, and if there was one thing she could do now, it was start moving on with her life; she just needed to do one more thing before it could happen.

Beside her, Angela lay awake also trying to deal with the gravity of the situation, but unlike her friend, she couldn't move on as quickly or as easily. But she made the effort to at least put on a brave face when she noticed Brennan was awake as well, the spark having returned to her eyes now that the grieving had passed. "Hi, Sweetie," she whispered, afraid that if she spoke to loudly, her voice would crack and her façade would crumble. "How are you feeling?" Her hand ran through her hair in a comforting gesture.

"I'm okay," Brennan softly replied. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. The shadows told her it was close to evening. It was time to get up and get moving. There were a few things she needed to do before the day was over, and one of them involved a ride back to the hospital. Although she dreaded it, it was something she had to do. She had to see for herself just as she had the night before. It was in her nature to seek out the truth until it satisfied her mind, and right now she wanted to know if he really was dead.

"I'm sorry," came Angela's whispered response, her voice cracking as Brennan turned to see her eyes shine with more tears. She wrapped her arms around her friend and let her cry it out, reciprocating the comfort she'd been given earlier.

"Its okay, Ange," she said softly.

"It's not okay!" Angela yelled back as she pulled away from Brennan's arms. "Booth is dead! How can it be okay? How can you be okay? He was your partner! He was you best friend! Hell, I'd venture to say he loved you!" she angrily sobbed while wiping away the tears with the sleeves of her shirt.

That hit Brennan like a ton of bricks. Everything she'd been denying the day before was being shoved right back in her face, and suddenly she felt like crying as well. No matter how much she tried to bury it deep down inside, she knew what Angela said was right. Booth had been her best friend and partner for three years. And although he never dared to voice his feelings, she knew he deeply cared for her. But saying that he loved her… it was hard to digest no matter how much sense it made.

Hanging her head so her friend couldn't see how much it pained her to say the words, Brennan whispered, "You're right… It's not okay." Sitting up and using the bed to help her get to her feet, she stood up and started to make her way towards her bathroom. "Excuse me, I have a few things I need to do tonight," she said over her shoulder before closing the door.

Angela hadn't counted on her friend fleeing so fast, but she knew from the moment Brennan admitted she was right that the wheels in her brain had begun to turn and that she was seeing just how much love had been lost when her partner was taken away from her. She almost felt sorry for her outburst, and probably would have apologized had Brennan not come back looking straight faced and determined. That's when she realized she'd finally gotten through to her friend, even if it was a little too late.

Brennan threw off the blood stained clothes she'd now been wearing for almost two days and changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. From the back of her closet she grabbed a light spring jacket and was almost out the door when she heard Angela call out to her, "Bren, where are you going?"

"I'll be back," Brennan replied as she grabbed her keys off her dresser. She paused for a moment, her eyes falling on his gifts. That lump that had been in her throat earlier was starting to form again, so she quickly turned away before it got any bigger.

Half an hour later, she was back at the hospital, walking down a cold corridor towards the morgue. She'd had to pull some strings and drop some names before being allowed to go down there, but she was quickly beginning to realize that maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. The closer she got to the cold metal doors at the end of the hall, the greater the urge to turn back became. Placing her palm on one of the handles, she took a deep breath before pushing it open.

Aside from the whoosh of cold air that that blew past her, there was a bustle of activity coming from inside the cramped room she hadn't expected. Uniformed FBI agents and those in suits crowded around each other talking in hushed tones. "Excuse me," she said, her strong tone reverberating throughout the room catching their attention.

"Dr. Brennan?" Her body spun around almost colliding with the man that had stepped in behind her.

"Deputy Director Cullen…" Brennan started to say.

"What can I do for you?" He didn't sound too please that she was down here.

"What's going on down here?" she couldn't stop herself from asking. This seemed out of place, even to her grief stricken mind.

"We're making final preparations for…" Her nod was enough to stop him from continuing. He knew why she was down here. He hadn't seen her at the hospital when the doctor gave the announcement and figured she was just here to say her final goodbye.

"Can… Can I have a moment… with him… please?" She looked about ready to turn on the waterworks, something he'd never seen before, and reluctantly he shooed his team away so she could pay her respects. "Thank you," she barely whispered, wrapping her arms around herself against the cold. He stepped back through the metal doors giving her some privacy.

In the center of the room was a gurney with a large black body bag laying on top. She stepped up to it slowly, her eyes brimming with tears. Having promised herself she wouldn't cry, she tried to keep her tears at bay, but as she unzipped it, they rushed forth with reckless abandon. Seeing him so lifeless, so pale… it ripped her heart straight out of her chest and held it out for the world to see. Never in her life had she expected to go through something this terrible, therefore she'd never really been able to brace herself for the torrent of feelings and emotions that flooded through her; the anger, the guilt, the denial, and most of all, the excruciating emotional pain that all physical pain paled in comparison to.

Her sobs reverberated against the walls of the tiled room making them sound louder and more agonizing than she could have imagined. She let her head fall into her hands as she sat down on the small stool beside the gurney. After several minutes of self pity, she finally looked up. Swallowing hard, she bit back the rest of her tears as she stared at him. He looked so peaceful, so serene in death than he had in life. Maybe there was something to his incessant ramblings about the afterlife after all. Maybe there was peace at the end.

Oh, what the hell? Who was she kidding? It only made her heart ache more that she could no longer argue with him about the existence of God. She now cursed his God for taking him away so soon. She hadn't even had time to tell him how she felt, which was why she was here now. If not in life, then in death, she thought to herself. At least she wouldn't have to keep dealing with her feelings. Sweets had always pushed them to communicate with each other in regards to their feelings towards one another, now she only wished she'd taken his advice as she drew her hand to his face and touched his slightly warm cheek.

"Why?" she whispered as a single tear dripped down her face and fell to the black plastic below. There was no malice in her voice, no anger, only curiosity and pain. Although she knew he was no longer with her, she couldn't help thinking that maybe a part of him was. Its how she rationalized talking to her mother's grave. A small part of her, the part that had remained childlike and full of wonder, believed the stories about life after death, believed that loved ones could transcend the boundaries between the two worlds, which was why she'd come here today.

"I wish you hadn't gotten up. I wish you hadn't saved me. I wish… I wish you weren't…" She couldn't continue. It was too hard, too painful. Sucking in a deep breath, she found the resolve to keep going. "I know you were trying to protect me, and I appreciate that, but you shouldn't have taken a bullet for me. I should be on that gurney right now. I should be dead, not you. You had so much to live for, so many people who loved you." She swallowed back another round of tears before continuing. "But what's done is done… There's nothing we can do to go back and change it. We can only grieve and move on. But I don't know if I can do that…" Her voice wavered as several more tears slipped past her defenses. "You were my friend and my partner and so much more. You were there for me during the hardest days of my life. You taught me how to live. You gave me the most precious gift anyone has ever given me… Someone I could count on, someone I knew would always be there for me. And now you're not here anymore. What am I supposed to do without you? How am I supposed to go on?"

She broke into sobs again, her head falling into her hands. After taking several moments to calm down, she finally looked back down at him and added, "Why couldn't you see you were everything to me? …That my heart belonged to you… That I… I… loved you…" More tears, more aching sobs; now it had become too much for her and she stood up, rushing through the metal doors and past the hall full of FBI agents with her hand covering her tear stained face as she practically ran out of the hospital.

In all the years she'd known Seeley Booth, in all the years they'd spent together sitting in her office, in the diner, in his car, Temperance Brennan was only now beginning to realize just how much he'd touched her life, and just how much he'd really meant to her. It was a startling revelation, but one she should have seen coming, because in her heart, she knew she'd always loved him, she just never had the courage to tell him. And now, sitting in her own car in the hospital parking lot, she wrapped her arms around the steering wheel and cried for all the moments she would never get to have with her partner, with her friend, with the man she loved.

Had she known that in the following weeks she'd have another startling revelation, that this whole death scene had been a charade, she probably never would have done the things she'd done. But in the meantime, it served as a way to feel things she'd never felt before and finally come to terms with those feelings. At lease she could now get through this hurdle and move on with her life. It would be hard, but she'd manage it.

FIN!