A/N: This story just wouldn't get out of my head after watching last night's episode of Bones. I just had to write it. As always, I own nothing.

Warning: Spoilers from "The Hole in the Heart".

"You're staying at my apartment tonight."

His tone sent chills down my spine and I was unable to argue. His expression was serious and I knew, despite not having known Vincent that well, that his sudden death was affecting him. As I looked at him, I felt my heart pounding hard in my chest. I felt the urge to reach out to him and speak the words that would comfort him, yet nothing sprang to my mind. So I just said okay.

The drive home was quiet. Neither one of us spoke, both lost in our thoughts. Booth's knuckles were turning white from his tight grip on the steering wheel. His eyes stared at the road ahead, never once glancing at me. In that instant, I felt all alone. There were things I wanted to talk to him about, like the fact that the bullet had been meant from him and that he hadn't told me about Broadsky's new target. I knew he had known, but he had hid that truth from me.

In his apartment building, we took the elevator. Why we just didn't use the stairs eluded me but I followed him. Memories of our previous stay in that elevator flashed through my mind. Talks of sex and relationships have filled the dullness of that blackout, reviving feelings I had buried deep in my heart during Hannah's presence. I looked over at Booth and hoped he would look back at me. But he didn't. He simply stared ahead, his jaw tensed. My heart sank a little.

He unlocked the door to his apartment and my nervousness heightened. I hadn't been here since our "wish to the Universe" and I didn't know if I really wanted to be here or not. I watched him as he locked the door behind us and shut the blinds. He advised me to keep them closed and to stay away from the windows. His attitude made me nervous and it suddenly dawned on me what was going to happen: I was going to sleep in Booth's apartment.

We chattered about who was going to sleep on the couch. I told him I would. He offered to help me make the bed. I declined. The tension was almost too much for me to bear. He wished me a good night and I did the same. When he closed the door, I tried to resist to the sadness I felt inside.

I lay awake for a long time. The silence was profound. I tried to pick up a sound coming from Booth's room that would tell me he was still awake but I heard nothing. Instead, I was left with Vincent's last words echoing in my mind. I tried to stifle them in vain.

Don't make me leave. I like it here.

I glanced at Booth's closed door and sighed. Fresh tears gently rolled down my cheeks. He was so close, yet so far away. I wanted to go walk in his room and talk to him, but my body refused to get off this couch. I wasn't scared about getting shot by Broadsky, I was more afraid that Booth would turn me away if I did manage to gather up enough courage to go see him. So I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

Vincent's dying expression and speech jolted me awake. I was breathing heavily, my heart pounding once more. I looked over at Booth's bedroom room and made up my mind. Slowly as to not make any noise, I got up and made my way to his bedroom.

I was greeted by a gun. Quickly, I assured Booth everything was fine, that there was no need for him to shoot someone. He put his gun down and I walked over to him, the words simply spilling out of my mouth.

Booth listened to my babbling, held my hand, and tried to convince me Vincent hadn't been speaking to me, but to God. I don't know how he can still believe in a god after what had happened. I know for a fact that Vincent was an atheist just like me, and his death had convinced me even more of the lack of presence of a god. If there had been one, it would have saved him; it wouldn't have taken a young man away from his friends and his family. Booth said that it wasn't quite how it worked and I didn't have the courage to ask him how it did.

My hand still in his, I suddenly felt the urge for him to hold me. Somehow, Booth sensed what I needed from him. Wrapped in his arms, I fell into bed with him.

I cried some more. And he held me.