Of Heaven and Hell

By Lifeguard

Rating: PG13ish for situations.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Bones, or the characters. Suing me would be useless as I owe my soul to student debt.

Author's Note: I know this theme/genre of story has been done, a lot, but this plot bunny has been hopping around my head, insisting that I write it down. I hope this story is different from what's out there. I always appreciate reviews and constructive criticism, so don't hesitate to drop me a line! Enjoy!

________________________________________________________________________

Parting is all we know of heaven and all we need of hell.- Emily Dickinson

________________________________________________________________________

He had recognized the crest on the envelope before he had even opened it. Tearing the letter open his eyes scanned the words in disbelief. He read it again and the disbelief turned into shock, then quickly, very quickly, into anger.

He crushed the paper and hurled it across the room.

Pacing, he ran his hand through his hair and muttered a string of curses. He stopped at the ball of paper and glared down at it.

Life was good right now, so of course something had to ruin it.

He bent down and retrieved the wadded letter and tossed it between his hands, weighing his options.

Ignore it and be damned; his career would be over, he would betray his country.

Do what it said and risk his life, risk losing everything he had worked so hard for, and everyone he loved.

Un-crumpling the paper he looked down at the return address. He knew where it had come from all to well.

Grabbing his car keys he set off.

_______________________________________________________________________

He got his counsel and asked his question: why? Why him? Why now? He felt a duty to his country; he would not desert, but why?

His job had betrayed him. His position as a respected agent with a heroic past had made him the most desirable for the job at hand. They told him his country needed him, they told him that other men would depend upon him; they told him they needed a strong leader. They told him that no one else was fit to carry out this mission.

Bitter, but ever the dutiful soldier, he accepted his mission with a heavy heart.

________________________________________________________________________

There was precious little time before his departure, but the night he said he would go he spent in a bar, drinking until he made it home to pass out.

Visions of years past rushed through his head, revisiting the horrors he had witnessed. Yet despite the fear these memories stirred, nothing was more terrifying then his next two tasks.

He had to tell her.

Then he had to leave her.

The mere thought of both tasks felt like a knife through his heart. Both meant that he would betray her and risk losing her forever.

The next evening he left for her apartment wondering how she would react and how he may never live through the pain of hurting her.

________________________________________________________________________

Comfortable and content she sipped at the sweet, fragrant wine again as she snuggled deeper into her couch and under her blanket. Savoring the spirit, she placed the delicate glass on the coffee table and turned her attention back to her laptop. The writer's block that had plagued her earlier was gone and a new idea ran circles in her head, begging to be put down in words. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as her next novel took shape on her screen. As she wrote the first particularly tense scene, a knock at her door jarred her roughly from her thoughts. She swore silently under her breath wondering who was disturbing her peace and quiet.

Grumbling, she left the sanctuary of her couch to get the door, only to come face to face with her partner.

"Booth, hi, what are you doing here?" she exclaimed rather awkwardly.

Brown eyes traveled her body, taking in her attire, which was most definitely not her usual. She wore track pants and a tank top, her hair in a messy ponytail.

"Oh, sorry, did I interrupt something?"

She shook her head slightly, "Just starting my new novel. Do you want to come in?"

As much as he had disturbed her thoughts she was glad to see him. Their last case had been a week ago and they had hardly seen each other since.

A memory of her laughing over dinner at the diner flashed through his mind. Would he ever see that smile again or hear that musical laugh?

"Can I?" he jutted his chin towards her living room.

"Of course."

He followed her in, his eyes roving the apartment, taking in the details.

"Do you want something to drink? I just opened that bottle," she indicated to the wine she had been sipping.

"Sure," he replied, "Thanks."

She wandered into the kitchen to retrieve another glass as he stood in the living room, trying to figure out how to tell her his news.

Coming back she found him standing in the middle of the room looking bewildered and lost. Pouring him a glass of wine she handed it to him, raising her eyebrow at the same time in silent question.

Sitting on the couch she gestured to him, "Sit down Booth."

Sighing, he took a seat on the edge of the couch and faced her. Her blue eyes bore into his, her eyebrow still arched in question.

"What's wrong? You seem agitated about something."

There was no easy way to break the news to her. Slowly, he pulled the crumpled envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her.

"What's this…" her question trailed off as her eyes fell on the crest. Quickly she took out the letter and read the page. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped into a tiny circle as the words took on meaning. Her expression failed to change as she held tightly onto the piece of paper, reading the official words.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth, you have been requested to head up an important black ops mission in Iraq. Your skills and expertise are required for this important duty to your country. You are requested to report for duty on…"

Lowering it from her face, her gaze fell upon him and he finished, "Tomorrow night."

Her eyes flew from her partner to the letter and back again, "But how can they do this to you? You're not enlisted. Don't they know you have an important job serving your country here?"

"They do know that and my position in the FBI, that's part of the reason why they want me, for my experience," he said the last word harshly.

Booth was to be the leader of the black ops sniper mission in Iraq. He had been briefed the day before on his dangerous quest.

The anger was evident in her voice as she spoke again, "You mean the government can just request that you ship off to Iraq? Why you? Weren't there other men to choose from?"

"They have their reasons for choosing me," he chose his words carefully, he couldn't tell her everything, "I'm sure there were others, but they made their decision. I've already tried to appeal, but it takes a damn good reason for them to let you go. Look what they did to Zack."

A pained expression crossed her face at the mention of her former assistant, "This isn't fair Booth," she said quietly.

He gently took the letter from her hand, "Well, I'll only be gone for a few weeks. Hopefully whatever it is they want me to do won't take that long."

A few weeks, this to him would feel like an eternity.

"Have you told anyone else? Have you had a chance to speak to your brother or tell Parker?"

Booth nodded, "I talked to my brother this morning, he's not happy about this either. If he hadn't been discharged he said he would re-enlist with me. I said I'd kick his ass if he did."

She smiled slightly at his words, knowing how much he cared for his brother.

"I saw Rebecca and Parker this afternoon," his voice got softer, "I told Parker I'd only be gone awhile and that I'd call him when I'm there. I don't want to scare him too much, plus I don't want him to understand what I'm doing."

He knew he never wanted his son to understand the horrors of what he had been through at war.

"I arranged a few other things today, and then I came to see you," he finished.

Telling her, saying goodbye to her had to be last on his list, it was truly the hardest.

Her eyes had fallen to the couch, she didn't look at him when she spoke, "Do you want to go?"

"No," he breathed the answer, "No, I don't want to go back. I saw too many things when I was there, too many terrible things, and I did terrible things," he talked freely now, standing up to pace, "I don't want to do it again; I don't want to take lives any more. I want nothing more than to stay here, to solve cases and bring some justice into the world in a good way. No, it's not fair at all Bones."

He stood, staring at her, wondering if she understood that he wanted to stay with her above all else.

She rose and stood before him, placing her hand on his, her voice was no more than a whisper, "Are you scared?"

Squeezing her hand he lowered his head and his defense, "Terrified."

Her other hand brushed his arm, encouraging him to continue.

"I'm scared Bones, scared of becoming the man I was when I was a sniper. I'm scared of having to feel numb when I take a life, scared of the nightmares afterwards. I'm scared that I'll loose one of my men, like Teddy, and I'm scared I'll never get over it. But overall, I'm terrified that I'll come back changed, that nothing will be the same…if I even come back at all."

They had moved closer to each other and she lowered her head so her forehead rested on his. She blinked back her tears but her voice betrayed her, "I'm scared too Booth."

Strong arms embraced her and she burrowed her head in the crook of his neck.

"I don't want to loose you," her muffled words came softly to his ear.

He could feel her warm tears soak into his shirt; a few of his own fell into her hair. He held her tightly and prayed he would get to hold her again in the future.

Gently, he pulled her away so he could see her face. With his thumbs he wiped the tears from her face.

"Listen to me," he stroked her cheeks, "I promise I'll come home," his lips brushed her forehead lightly, "to you."

She wanted to protest, to say that he couldn't promise anything, but she also wanted to believe him, to take that promise and hold onto it, to make it real. Instead of telling him he could promise her nothing, she closed the distance between them and laid her lips on his, sealing the promise.

He responded and the kiss deepened. She clutched at the front of his shirt, pulling him to her, never wanting to let him go. He tangled one hand in her hair at the base of her neck; the other grasped at her waist, wanting her to be closer, if that was at all possible.

There was no more talking, just the passion that had erupted, spilled over after years of boiling just under the surface.

________________________________________________________________________

In the soft glow of the morning light she lay on his chest lost in a dream. They had never made it to the bedroom, but neither had objected to the couch. Booth was awake, watching his partner asleep on his chest, basking in her warmth, in the feel of her heartbeat above his own. He marveled at the contrast between her dark hair, lying across her shoulders and the creamy, silky, skin underneath it.

If hell was his mission, then this had to be heaven.

Yet this paradise would be destroyed in a few short hours. He would betray her with what she couldn't know. Would she ever forgive him? He tried to push the thought from his mind, tried to enjoy the moment he was living now. If he was lucky, if by some miracle all went well, maybe she would forgive him when he returned and he could return to this paradise.

________________________________________________________________________

They had spent the drive to the airport in near silence, yet her hand had lay on his arm the entire time, as if letting go meant losing him before he even stepped on the plane. To him, her small hand was an anchor to the life he was about to leave. When they got there, they continued to hold onto each other.

Hand in hand they took the final steps to where they would part.

Booth stopped and placed his bag on the ground. He reached into the uniform's jacket, the piece of clothing they both hated, and produced an envelope.

"Would you give this to the team?" he placed it in her hands, she noticed it was labeled 'To the Squints.'

"Tell them I wanted to say goodbye in person but…" he trailed off. He had spent his remaining hours with her and he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

"They'll understand," she said simply.

Booth brushed an errant strand of hair off her face, "Will you do me a favour?"

She nodded.

"I know I won't be gone too long, but will you look in on Parker for me, you know, go visit him?"

"Of course," her gaze fell to the ground and he could see her trying to blink back tears, "It will only be a few weeks, right?" her voice was heavy with emotion.

He lifted her chin gently so his brown eyes met her blue ones, "Only a few weeks," he repeated, his own voice low.

"Promise me Booth," she whispered, "Promise me you'll come back."

Leaning in he kissed her, savoring the softness of her lips. When he pulled away he breathed, "I promise."

Bending down, he retrieved his bag from the floor. She knew he had to go but she couldn't let go of his hand. Booth began to walk away, their hands still linked until they reached the end of their lengths. He raised her slender fingers to his lips and kissed them as she finally let go.

Then he was gone.

_______________________________________________________________________

It was a clear night and she sat in her car, watching the planes ascend into the darkened sky. With each plane that disappeared more tears descended down her cheeks. She knew it wasn't rational, that she would see him again soon, but she felt like she was losing him forever. She sat there, she didn't know for how long, watching the sky, wishing with all her heart that he would keep his promise to her.

________________________________________________________________________

In the dim light of the plane his head rested against the side of the window, his gaze locked on the dark sky. He had promised to come home to her, but at what cost? Would she still want him when he broke his other promise to her? The stars sparkled in the night sky and he wished for the strength to make it home to her and he wished for her own strength, that she would make it through what was still to come.

________________________________________________________________________

One Week Later

"How are you holding up Sweetie?"

Her best friend's voice broke the silence of the office. Angela wandered in as the anthropologist hit the refresh button on her computer, again. The artist knew what was wrong.

"He probably hasn't had time to e-mail you yet."

"Booth said he would today," she hadn't heard from him since he had arrived at his first destination. He had said his computer time was limited, but assured her of the next date that he would contact her.

"Well, it's only," Angela checked her watch, "three o'clock. He's still got loads of time."

With a resigned sigh, Brennan closed her e-mail, "True," she muttered.

The artist smiled at her friend, "Why don't you and I go out for dinner tonight Brenn?"

In the last week, the anthropologist had thrown herself into her work, spending nearly all her time at the lab. Angela wanted to make sure her friend was still eating and at least left now and then.

"Ange, I've got to finish identifying the…"

"The skeleton that's been in limbo for years? He can wait till tomorrow Sweetie. Come out tonight, we'll have fun."

"Maybe, I do need to get out, try to take my mind of waiting."

"Yes, yes you do!"

"Alright, I'll come."

"Good, I'll come drag you out of here in a few hours then."

________________________________________________________________________

Two Weeks Later

Agitated, she paced her apartment, glaring at the phone for the hundredth time that evening.

"He'll call," she mumbled again to reassure herself.

She was worried sick about her partner. The contact had been limited, his internet and phone time rationed. She had received only one e-mail and one phone call since Booth had made it to Iraq. In his last email he had told her he would call her at home, tonight.

The phone barely rang once before she pounced on it.

"Hello?" she said breathlessly into the receiver.

"Hi Bones," he greeted her from far away.

"Hi Booth," she said and then took a deep breath, "How are you?"

"I'm okay. How are things at the lab? Am I missing any good cases?"

She briefly told him about the new case, "I'm working with Agent Perrotta again," she added.

"Are you driving her crazy yet?" he joked.

"She doesn't seem to annoyed with me yet," Brennan smiled into the receiver, "Have you talked to Parker lately?"

"I just got off the phone with him. He said you took him for ice cream the other day, thanks Bones."

"He misses you Booth," she paused, "So do I."

"I miss you too Bones."

"Are you coming home soon?" she asked. Booth hardly spoke about his mission, especially not about when it would be over.

He was silent for a few moments before he answered, "I can't say," he was choosing his words carefully, "but you know I'll be back the minute we're done here."

Brennan noticed that he seemed distant tonight, "Is something wrong Booth?"

Again, he paused before answering, "No, I'm fine Bones."

"Really?"

He sighed, "We've got a lot to do here and I don't want to do a lot of it, that's really all I can tell you. I just," he stopped the started again, "Bones, I just really wish I could come home, to be with you."

"You're coming home Booth, I'll be here."

"I know, just, promise that you'll wait for me?" there was a hint of sadness in his voice.

"You know I will Booth, I promise."

"This is going to be the last time I can talk to you for awhile now Bones, I can't tell you why, but just know that I'm thinking about you," he took a breath, "that you're in my heart Bones. Remember that, okay, and wait for me."

There was a lump in her throat, something was wrong, she knew it, but he couldn't tell her. She did the only thing she knew would help and answered, "I'll remember."

"I have to go now," he said quietly.

"Come home soon."

"I'll try."

________________________________________________________________________

Three Days Later

On the platform the team was attempting to identify the remains of their latest case. Brennan circled the steel slab that held the bones, her critical eye appraising the injuries.

She was dictating her findings to Agent Perrotta who was scribbling the findings on a note pad.

"Angela, will you check the dental records for our victim?" Brennan asked her friend.

"Sure Sweetie."

Hodgins approached the body, "Can I take some samples now?"

"Please do," answered the anthropologist.

Brennan was about to launch into a theory when someone swiped their card on the stairs.

"Dr. Brennan," a security guard called her, "There are two gentlemen who wish to speak with you."

She gave him an annoyed look, "Can it wait?"

Cam, who had been observing the team, glanced down the stairs towards the glass doors of the lab. She spotted the two gentlemen and her heart leapt to her throat.

"Dr. Brennan, I don't think this should wait," she said.

The security guard nodded his head in agreement. Finally, Brennan pulled her head away from the remains and snapped off her gloves. By now the whole team was walking towards the stairs and had spotted the men Cam had seen.

Approaching the stairs Brennan took in the two men standing at the bottom. They were dressed in formal military attire and one held a red, white and blue bundle in his arms.

The anthropologist glanced back at her team who were all in staring at the men. Cam was shaking her head back and forth, her eyes wide with shock. Angela had gripped onto Hodgins arm and Agent Perrotta stood frozen at the top of the stairs.

"Can I help you?" Brennan asked the soldier.

"Are you Dr. Temperance Brennan?"

"Yes."

"Dr. Brennan, I'm sorry to inform you that Special Agent Seeley Booth was killed during a mission yesterday."

The other soldier held out a folded up flag adding, "We're very sorry for your loss."

On top of the flag lay dog tags, smudged with dirt. As if in slow motion her eyes went from one soldier to the other and finally rested on the tags. She picked them up and rubbed her thumb over the inscriptions on them. Booth was the name she made out.

"No," she whispered, her hands clutching at the tags.

Wide blue eyes flew to the first soldier, "No…he's not…" she couldn't bring herself to say it, "I just talked to him a few days ago….no…"

"We're very sorry Ma'am. If it helps, he died a hero," tried the second soldier.

"How?" the word was barely audible.

"A bomb Ma'am. He was clearing a building when it happened; we think it was rigged as a trap."

"They'll be sending him home tomorrow to be buried."

The words of the soldiers seemed far away to her. They filtered in slowly, their faces were hazy. Sorry, bomb, buried…the words floated to her ears as Booth's smiling face took shape in her mind.

Booth was dead.

She didn't feel her knees give out or hear her friends rush to her side. She wasn't aware of the soldier's strong arms grabbing hers before she hit the ground.

The world went black.

To be continued…

Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know!