A/N: Just a little one shot 'what if' on the aftermath of Critic in the Cabernet, so if you haven't seen it yet, don't read! We all know it's going to be fine though, right? RIGHT?

Disclaimer time: God, I wish I did own them, I really do. But I don't, I'm just borrowing. I don't make any kind of anything out of this, except warm fuzzy feelings when I get a review (hint hint) :)

Seeley Booth was paralyzed. He was aware his throat hurt, and something was pressing on his face. He tried to lift his hand to brush it away, but he had no control over it. He could hear people talking reassuringly, beeping machinery, the bustle of activity ,and he was vaguely aware of someone stroking his hair.

It's over, I'm still alive.

As the anaesthetic wore off some more, he fought to open his leaden eyelids, regretting it immediately as the overhead lighting blinded him.

"Seeley, it's ok, you're awake now, the operation's all finished."

The feelings were always as terrible as he recalled. He'd come round from anaesthesia several times before, and every time sucked. Always the feeling of paralysis, the drowning sensation and the total inability to do anything. Going under was fine, it was like drifting off to sleep when you're utterly unspeakably exhausted. But waking up was awful, he sometimes felt it must be worse than death. As the weight lifted from his hands and arms, he tried once more to brush what he now realised must be a mask from his face, but his limbs were still heavy and clumsy. He'd missed a couple of times before he felt the mask move, and a kiss was planted on his cheek.

She promised she'd stay with me.

"Bones." It was barely a whisper, but there was so much feeling behind it. Love, hope, relief, joy… But as he opened his eyes again, he got a surprise.

"Seeley, it's Cam. They got it all, they're sending it for testing, find out if it's benign or not."

He tried to talk, but his throat was raw, and his head was pounding. He managed to croak out an 'ow', at which a nurse injected something into his IV cannula. He felt his eyelids become heavy again, and struggled to keep them open long enough to comb the room. His heart sank not to see her there, but before he could question it, the diamorphine hit and he passed out.

When he awoke again, all heaviness was gone and his throat was feeling less raw. He was in a private room now, away from what must have been the recovery suite. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings. He was still hooked up to a drip, and there were two monitors attached to him. From what he knew of these things, he knew his oxygen saturation levels and pulse were healthy. The second monitor he didn't understand, although the wires were attached to him underneath the bandages on his head.

A cough alerted him to a visitor at the doorway. He smiled. Despite all that had gone on between them, he somehow knew Rebecca would be good about this. Parker uncharacteristically gripped onto her hand for dear life, partially hiding himself behind her.

"Parker, buddy! You ok?"

He nodded shyly, but stayed clinging to his mother.

"Parker, it's ok, the doctors have had a look round daddy's brain but it's all clean and better now."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll only get better if I have a hug though, can you do that for me buddy?"

A cheeky grin crossed the young boy's face and he ran over to the bed. He climbed up and hugged his father, sensible enough to be careful of all the wires and tubes. He was still sitting on the bed when Cam came in.

"Hey Parker."

"Hey Doctor Saroyan."

"Oh, so formal?"

"His dad taught him to be polite. Hi Cam." Booth greeted his former lover, trying to ignore the gnawing ache at his partner's absence. Camille walked over and kissed him on the cheek, taking his hand.

"How's your head?"

"Whatever that nurse gave me was goooooood, I feel better, thanks. Where is everyone?"

Rebecca took an unspoken cue and gestured for Parker to leave with her. Booth frowned but let his son go with a cheery wave. Cam was avoiding his gaze.

"They went home. You were in for longer than expected, everyone was a little beat, so I told them to go."

"What about Bones? She promised."

"Seeley…." She sighed. "I shouldn't be the one telling you this. I'll get a doctor."

"No, Cam, don't go, what's the problem? Is Temperance ok?"

"Temperance Brennan is… was…"

"Wait, was? Cam, what's happened?"

"Seeley, Bones was part of the tumour. She never… she's not real. She's a character in a some novels."

Booth dropped his friend's hand and stared at her agape. He had no words in his head, his brain just collapsed in on itself, unable to process this information. His eyes danced round the room, desperate for Cam's words to magically disappear and be undone.

"How is that possible? She brought me here for the operation, she came into the surgery with me!"

"No, Booth, you were questioning Dunwood, when you started talking to yourself, then you blacked out. Paramedics brought you in, you were unconscious until after the surgery."

He fought back tears, and could see she was too.

"I was in love with her."

"I know, Seeley."

"How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long have I had a sexy scientist in my head?"

"We – they don't really know. You were talking about her a lot, but they're popular books, we thought you were just getting really into them. Then the last couple of weeks… You got a bit weird Seeley, started talking to yourself quite a lot. The last couple of days we realised you were talking to her. I'd asked a neurologist friend of mine to take a look at you – he was on his way down when you collapsed."

"So, what? The tumour's gone, but so's she?"

Cam finally let the tears flow, unable to stem it any longer. Breathless with the tears, she simply nodded, scared of what this would do to her friend. He wouldn't look at her now, as he knew if he did, he wouldn't be able to hold back his emotions either.

"Leave." The command was heartfelt, bitter and angry. She knew better than to argue, so despite her concerns, she slipped from the room, dabbing at her eyes. He was left alone there, having never before felt the full definition of that word.

Alone.