I got this idea for a story after reading "Arabian Nights" by threesquares. Her story is great by the way and I highly recommend it. If you have not seen season eight yet, I feel I should warn you that there is a spoiler in this story. I will understand if you wish to skip this story.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooo

It had been three days. Three day since he'd walked into the living room and had crushed the heart of the woman he loved. At first he had hoped that the logic he'd used to turn down her marriage proposal would appeal to her; but, he gave up on that false hope the minute the words were out of his mouth. The look of sadness on her face had almost made him back down . . . Almost.

He wasn't sure if Pelant would really be able to tell if Brennan knew why their marriage was postponed; but, he couldn't risk it. He had to keep telling himself that it was postponed and not cancelled; but he was beginning to think that too was a false hope. It had taken him years to get her to ask him to marry him and it taken seconds to destroy her happiness.

He'd thought about Pelant's threat and had almost . . . . God help him, he'd almost decided to ignore it. He had been so close to ignoring it until he'd thought about what would happen if Pelant realized that threats to kill strangers was not enthralling enough. What if he upped the ante and decided to kill Pops or Jared or Russ? What if he decided to kill Russ' wife, Amy or Russ's step-daughters? Pelant was capable of anything and Booth had realized that he couldn't risk the deaths of others over his and Brennan's happiness. As much as he loved and adored her; he couldn't have the blood of others on his hands. He already had too much blood on his hands. He'd killed so many people in his life that sometimes he thought that it was a miracle that people didn't see his blood drenched hands when they looked at him. He couldn't bear the thought of innocent blood added to the gore.

He'd watched as the woman he loved pretended that all was okay between them; but, after all of these years he knew her well enough to recognize that it was an act. He knew because she refused to touch him. She did everything in her power to make sure that he didn't touch her. The first night she'd slept in their bed, facing away from him and managed to stay far enough away from him that there was no chance for him to try to touch her. The second night, she'd made sure to go to bed before he did and was asleep before he'd finally come into the bedroom.

Tonight, feeling sad and unable to control his emotions around her, he'd gone for a drive and when he'd come back home, he's laid down on the couch in the living room. He was afraid to sleep in his own bed. He was afraid to cause any more damage so he decided to give her the time and space she needed.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

He'd been a little depressed after receiving a letter from Pops. Pops had talked to Rebecca and she had told him that Parker was having nightmares. He was having horrible dreams about his Dad and he didn't know what to do about it. Parker had told his mother that he kept seeing his Dad being killed in his dreams and it was terrifying. Pops had told him that Rebecca was going to have a counselor talk to the boy; but, in the mean time it was just one more burden that he had to bear. He had never dreamed that coming to Afghanistan would have turned out to be so costly. His son was afraid, his grandfather was upset and to pile on that, he wasn't getting any mail from Brennan. Nothing. He knew that things had been strained between them; but, he never would have guessed that Brennan would actually throw away their friendship. He'd already written her eleven letters and not one had been answered.

The silence from his partner was deafening.

Watching some of the men playing a quick game of baseball, Booth had resisted their efforts to involve him in the game. Watching from the sidelines, he had decided to write another letter to his partner when the quiet afternoon was shattered. He'd just written Brennan an amusing story about a goat and a cat when the shelling started. The first shell had hit near Corporal Jenkins who had been winding up for a pitch to Private Dunkin. The explosion had been deafening. One minute Jenkins was lining up his pitch and the next minute there was no longer a Corporal Jenkins. Standing, Booth has shouted for everyone to get under cover as fast as possible. He knew that it wasn't a useless command. Even though it made no sense, some people didn't react when the unbelievable happened in front of them. His training had taught him that. There are always those who will freeze where they are and it was his job to make them move and move they did. No one ignored Booth when he gave an order and that was a fact.

Running towards the side of the closest building, Booth tried to determine from where the rockets were being fired. Running along the side of the building, he ran around to the back and then up the other side to see if he could get to the second story building just a few feet away. He hoped to get up onto the roof and use that vantage point to see if he could find out from where the rockets were being launched. He had his M9 on his hip and contrary to Army policy a back up Beretta in a holster on his leg. Being a cop, he had learned a long time ago that a backup piece could be essential to survival.

Peering around the building, Booth noticed that the rocket fire was no longer just limited to the square. The shells were starting to hit the buildings facing the square and to Booth's horror the building next to him. Running to the two story building, Booth burst into the home to find a young girl cowering next to the wall across the room. Holding out his hands, he tried to motion for her to move under the table next to her; but, the abject fear emanating from her was palpable. Starting across the room, Booth tried to motion to the girl to move to the safer position when a shell hit the room. Thrown off of his feet, he suddenly found himself in total silence. Sitting up, he pushed broken brick from his legs and slowly stood up. Staggering across the room, he found the girl lying crumpled in a pool of blood. Kneeling next to her, he felt for a pulse and found a faint thread. Trying to talk to her, to comfort her, he realized that he couldn't hear the words he knew were pouring out of his mouth. Shaking his head, he picked the child up and staggered to the now open gap in the front of the building where the door used to be. Stepping over brick and timber, he managed to get out of the building. Hugging the wall, he carried the child towards the back of the building and then through an alleyway. Moving slowly, he staggered out of the alley and stopped. Not certain where he was, he looked around and noticed a medic bent over one of his men just a few feet away. Stepping carefully, Booth carried his precious burden to the help she needed.

Arriving next to the medic, he carefully placed the girl down and grabbed the arm of the medic. Hearing only a ringing sound he tried to talk to the young man. He begged him to help the girl. The medic, leaning over and checking the girls vital signs, shook his head and returned his attention to the soldier that he'd been helping.

Puzzled, Booth stared at the child on the ground before him and felt for her pulse. Not finding one he sat back on his heels and stared at the blood on his hands. Wiping the blood off on to his pants leg, he started to tremble. Shaking, he stared at the young girl trying to remove her blood from his hands.

Jerking awake, Booth found himself staring into Brennan's face. Puzzled, Booth spoke, "So much blood, there was so much blood. I couldn't get it off. She just lay there and I couldn't get her blood off of my hands. I tried . . ."

Placing her hand on his face, Brennan shook her head, "Booth it was just a dream. You're alright. You were just having a bad dream."

Exhaling deeply, Booth shook his head, "I tried to help her; but, I couldn't there was so much blood."

Biting her lower lip, Brennan laid down on the couch next to him and opened her arms. He moved into the comfort she offered. Feeling his body trembling, she talked to him, "I'm sorry, Booth. I'm sorry that you've seen so much pain and suffering. I'm sorry that your world has been filled with death and blood."

Reaching up a trembling hand, he moved his hand over hers and responded, "I'm sorry Bones. I'm sorry. I didn't want to turn you down; but, I can't let anymore blood be spilled because of me. I can't do it. I can't. I can't do it . I . ."

Hugging him tighter, Brennan tried to sooth him, "I don't know what's going on, Booth. I don't know why you did what you did but I trust you. If you can't tell me then that's fine. I trust you. I love you."

His trembling subsiding, he closed his eyes, "No more innocent blood, Bones. No more blood."

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Thank you for reading my story. Please review my story and let me know what you think of it.

A/N: Penny did a last minute read over of my story. Her suggestions were welcome and helped to add a little more flavor to my story.