This has been in my head for a long time. It didn't come out exactly as I'd planned, but I wanted to post it just because it's been in my head too long not to post it.

It's a bit Brennan POV, but also a bit not.

And the ending, well, I just HAD to include the song. I heard it at school and I was like, 'this was written for Booth'. So even though it didn't exactly fit with the POV, I wanted to include it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or the song Hero of War by Rise Against. Which is a song you just HAVE to download, by the way. It's a really good song. Very impressive lyrics.

Enjoy!

He couldn't hide anything from her.

She knew she shouldn't pry like this, she knew she should let his life be his life. If he didn't want to talk, she should respect his wishes and leave him alone.

But she knew he needed someone. He had taught her that.

She could see the hurt in his eyes sometimes, the way he cringed when certain things were mentioned. Maybe she wasn't good at reading people, but she certainly wasn't bad at reading Booth.

Even though it had been a long time since he'd been in the Army, he still had nightmares. She knew that. She also knew that he revisited those places many times in his mind, not just in his sleep. She could see it in his eyes when they were in the diner, when they were both quiet for a moment. It was like his mind couldn't find solace, and tormented him on every possible occasion.

She didn't know how to help him – for once, this was not something she thought could be fixed. It had to fade, naturally, like the metaphorical marks he had told her about a few weeks ago.

She could see that. But it didn't mean she couldn't help speed up the process.

It was a mystery to her why he could not see the goodness in himself. It was a mystery to her, too. Objectively, Booth had murdered people, thus making him a murderer. The very same people they chased every day.

But he was different. She couldn't just say that he had been ordered to kill – it was too flimsy an excuse.

No, the real difference lay in his intentions. Murderers killed for pleasure, for their own gratification, or for revenge. Booth never killed for any of those. He killed because he had to. Because he wanted to make the world a better place, which was exactly why he continued to do the very thing till this day.

He fought to cleanse the world of those who were not worth living in it.

She understood his pain. While she had never been in the army, she had seen the results of violence and war more than she'd wanted. He wasn't stupid; he had seen all that, too. He had drawn his own conclusions from that. I did that. I caused that.

She had no idea how she could make him see that he was different – because he didn't kill for pleasure, because he felt all these things, because of the job he was doing, because of how he was.

He wasn't a cold-blooded murderer. He was human; he laughed with her, made fun of her... He loved her. She knew he did. He wasn't evil. He was one of the best men she knew.

A hero of war, is that what they see?

Just medals and scars, so damn proud of me?