Booth sat in the hospital bed with his head against the soft blue pillows. He glanced over at his side and saw Brennan sitting there. She looked up at him with an expression filled with sorrow. Her eyes didn't express happiness knowing that he was okay. Her hair was a little messy, probably because she had been sleeping in the same chair she was sitting in for the past couple hours.

"Don't look at me like that, Bones." He told her with a slight whine in his tone.

"How can I not, Booth? You and I both know the reason why you're in the hospital is because of me." Her eyes slowly looked down.

"Hey, none of this is your fault." He told her, adjusting himself in his bed. His left arm was in a sling and half of his ribs were broken. He winced in pain as his shoulder started throbbing. Is my shoulder broken too?

"The doctors said that you'll be staying here for a week or two." She informed him.

"A week!?" he furrowed his eyebrows. "There's no way I'm staying here for a week. Can't you pull some strings or at least tell them you'll be taking care of me?"

"Taking care of you? Booth, I'm not a babysitter and besides, you can barely move. You should stay here for a week." Brennan crooked the side of her mouth and watched as Booth looked away.

"Bones…" He whined. "…You know I hate hospitals."

"Booth." She said in a regretful tone. "What happened to you shook me."

"What do you mean?" He asked, looking down at her.

"Mr. Rot told those men to kill me, not you!" She said pretty loudly.

Booth, surprised and a little disoriented from the fluids shooting up his veins, looked at her with his mouth ajar. "I'm your partner, Bones. It's my job to protect you—"

"Yes, protect me, but you went too far, Booth." She said with anger pumping in her blood.

"How did I go too far!? The man was going to kill you. I couldn't let that happen!"

"Why not!? It's not like my life matters when we're both captured and our hands tied with rope."

Booth looked at her in awe and slowly shook his head. "Don't ever say that."

"What? That my life doesn't matter?" She tested his patience. "Booth, your life is much more important than mine. You're an ex-sniper, you're an FBI agent and you've saved dozens of lives—"

"With your help!" he cut her off. "Bones, I don't care if the killer tries to kill both of us. I'd rather be killed first so you can live longer."

"Why?" She asked. "If the killer wants to murder us both, why would it matter if my lifespan were extended?"

"Because you deserve every minute to be alive." He responded. He winced in pain as his heavy breathing made sides hurt. His ribs were horrible and he knew it'd take at least a couple months to recover one hundred percent.

"Are you okay?" She asked in a low, sweet voice.

"Yeah." He gasped. "When half of your ribs are broken, it becomes a real pain in the butt to breathe."

"This is why you should stay in the hospital." She told him, the corner of her mouth slacked to the side.

"Why did you say that?" He asked.

"Huh?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Bones. Why'd you say that crap about dying?" He glared at her. "You've saved countless lives with and without me. Both of us deserve to live, neither one of us wantsed to die and even if we did die back there, people would continue catching the bad guys."

"It just…" She started out. "…When they tried to kill you, Booth, it was hard for me."

"Hard for you to see me get hurt? You've seen me get beaten up before…" He glanced over at her.

"But never before like that." She slowly looked up at him. "Hearing your ribs crack and seeing the blood fall down your forehead… blood pooling at the abdomen..."

Booth, with a gloomy expression, looked away, hoping that the vivid images would stop forming in his mind.

"Then…" Brennan tried to hold her emotions in but the corners of her eyes had already shown it. "…then they dislocated your arm and just the painful tone of your voice—"

"Stop." He told her, looking down heavily at her. Brennan looked up at him with hurt in her eyes. "Stop it, Bones."

"It's my fault you're in here, Booth." She shook her head. "If I didn't bother you about the shiny piece of metallic substance we found at the crime scene, we would've never arrived there and we would've never been kidnapped."

"It'll never be your fault." He told her with a slight smile. "No matter how hard you want it to be… it'll never be your fault."

"You're never going to let it be, are you?" She slightly shook her head with a smile.

"Never." He breathed.

"I should go." Brennan said a few minutes into silence. She looked around for her purse but Booth's hand caught hers. She looked up at him, wishing he never did that. She knew how much pain he was in through his eyes. Even moving his good arm made him wince.

"Don't." He gasped.

"Cam, Angela, Hodgins and Wendell will need my help in catching the murderer." She told him, trying to escape from his grasp but he held on tight.

"Stay with me, Bones. They'll call you if they need your help." He told her.

"But—"

"Stay. Keep me company and maybe get some pudding for me?" He hinted with a slight smile.

Brennan slowly widened her smile. She nodded and felt his hand slide off hers. She got up and walked to the cafeteria, looking for some pudding cups. Booth sat there and slowly closed his eyes knowing that when he woke up, his comforting partner would be there beside him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brennan followed Booth down the Forensic platform and towards the door. She had already slid her latex gloves off and placed them on the metal rack. Cam, Hodgins and Wendell were diligently working on the metallic substance that was found at the scene of the crime. They had identified the victim as Joseph Rot. Prime suspects were Joseph Rot's brother, Kamp Rot and a couple of Kamp's friends, Roy Match, Fred Jock, Maxwell Loop and Jim Erie.

"C'mon Booth, I'm telling you, in that house's basement is what we're really looking for." Brennan tried to tell him.

"No, Bones, first, we call for back-up and then we can scour for whatever we're looking for." He told her.

"But the killer might've already taken what we needed." She nagged him. "C'mon Booth, we've investigated without back-up plenty of times."

"Yeah, and some of those times, our lives flashed before our very eyes." He walked towards the door but felt Brennan pull on his arm. He turned around to face her.

"It'll only take five minutes." She told him. "We get in, look for the metallic rod and get out."

"Easier said than done." He placed his hands on his hip. "What makes you think it's in Kamp's basement?"

"Trust me, he works with metallic rods which he claims to be nickel based but most of them aren't. Wendell took a few photos and Hodgins analyzed them. The shape and form of the rods would've never been like that if they were nickel based." She tried to persuade him.

"So you're saying the metallic rod was used to kill Joseph Kamp."

"Yes." She nodded. "He killed his own brother."

"That's jumping to a conclusion, Bones. I thought you said you hated doing that." He smirked and turned around. Brennan trailed behind him.

"I do hate doing that." She stopped in her tracks and watched as he turned to face her again. "That wasn't 'jumping to a conclusion, I was merely stating an observation."

"Fine, we'll go to his house with a warrant and search the basement. Get in, get out, and get this case done. Okay?" He saw Brennan's lips form a wide smile.

"Okay." She nodded.

"Hurry up before Cullen calls me back to the office." He turned to walk out the door. Brennan quickly took off her lab coat and placed it on her office desk chair. She met Booth in his SUV, in hopes that this case will turn out to be clean and simple.

Booth and Brennan arrived at Kamp Rot's house. The house was beautifully decorated on the exterior with vine trails and red roses. The white walls complemented the flowers wonderfully. The interior was beautiful too, but the stench of a murderer still lingered.

They didn't have enough evidence to arrest Kamp but they did have the enormous power of a warrant. Booth and Brennan climbed out of the SUV and made their way to the front door.

"Okay, listen, Bones. We get in and get out. You search as fast as you can." He whispered to her in demand.

"Why are you rushing the procedure, Booth?" She asked, furrowing her eyebrows at him.

"Because…" He responded. "…my gut has a bad feeling about this whole entire thing."

"That sounds pretty bad knowing the reputation of your gut." Brennan glanced over at him.

"Yeah, so make it fast." He looked at her and began to straighten his tie. They stopped at the front door; Booth sternly knocked on the door and waited until someone answered it.

Kamp looked through the peep hole and reluctantly opened the door. He looked at the pair and smiled gently. He was about Booth's height, just a little under, and his light brown hair shined in the sunlight. His casual white shirt, blue jeans, silver wrist watch and white socks made him look like a natural resident.

"May I help you, Agent Booth?"

Booth took out the warrant. "We have a warrant to search your house."

Kamp took the paper from his hands and glanced down at it. "A warrant to search for what?"

"For those nickel based metallic rods." Brennan responded.

Kamp looked up at them, stood out of the way and held the door open. With a short smile and a glance at Brennan, he said, "I have nothing to hide. Come on in."

Booth stepped in first and then Brennan. Booth eyed Kamp, making sure he wasn't ogling his partner or getting weird thoughts. He placed his hand on his partner's shoulder and guided her to the basement. Once they stepped in, Kamp closed the door and graciously followed them. He trailed behind them and watched as Brennan opened the door and walked down the stairs. Booth followed her before he eyed Kamp again. They both walked down the wooden stairs.

Brennan took out tweezers from her brown bag and found one of the metallic rods sitting on the floor. She picked the rod up and scraped at it. There was no nickel base underneath the layer of the metallic substance. She looked at Booth, Booth looked at Kamp and Kamp simply smiled.

"Okay, Kamp, I'm going to have to place you under—" Before Booth could finish, someone from the shadows hit him hard on the head with one of the rods. Booth fell down hard on the ground.

"Booth!" Brennan shrieked. Another man came out from the shadows of the basement corners and smothered her with a cloth. Brennan's body fell to the floor.

Kamp looked at the two. Two more men came out from the shadows. All four them looked up at Kamp.

"What should we do with them?" Fred Jock asked.

"Take Agent Booth's gun and his spare gun. Grab Dr. Brennan's bag and tools. Tie them up and bring their belongings to me." With that said, Kamp turned around and walked towards the living room.

"Man, if we get caught, we're going to be in prison for a long time." Jim took Booth's holster and gun.

"That's if we get caught." Maxwell glanced at him and took Brennan's brown bag. He opened it up and found a picture stashed in the inside pocket. He pulled it out and curiously looked at it. "I'm guessing this is her boyfriend?"

Roy walked over to Maxwell and glanced at the picture. "No you dunce, that isn't her boyfriend, that's her partner." They both looked at Booth's body, lying on the ground and unconscious.

"Why would she have a picture of him?" Jim scornfully replied.

"Maybe she likes him?" Roy laughed.

"We all know that Kamp is going to make us kill them, right?" Fred asked, walking over Booth's body to join the other men.

"Yeah." Roy nodded. "As usual."

"Fred and Roy can start tying them up. Maxwell and I will bring their stuff to Kamp and join you guys later." Jim told the group before heading up the stairs. Maxwell trailed behind him.

Fred heavily sighed and got some rope from the pile in the corner. Kamp was a ladder maker. He wasn't successful in his business but he did make enough money each year. The rods were used as the bars in the sections and the rope was to tie the rods together.

Roy forcefully took Booth's arms and slapped his wrists together. Fred tightly tied the rope around Booth's wrists. Fred went back to get another piece of rope for Brennan while Roy made Booth sit up against the wall near the wooden staircase. Booth's head slumped forward. Once Roy and Fred did the same thing to Brennan, they walked back upstairs to see what their next job was.

Truth is, they were lackeys, thugs, henchmen, slaves or just bored people that needed a boss to answer to. All four of them were Kamp's friends but they weren't best friends. All four of them also knew his brother, Joseph Rot. Neither one of them were the best in their field. Roy and Maxwell studied Marine Biology but never took the action to make the best out of it. Fred studied the Culinary Arts while Jim studied the finance business. Neither one of them tried to do anything with their professions. Kamp never paid them for their 'services'. All four of them did what he wanted them to do simply because he was their friend.

Kamp stood there in front of the living room window with his finger rubbing his chin. Jim and Maxwell, sitting on the couch, turned to look at Fred and Roy. The two walked towards Kamp and stopped in front of him.

"What now?" Jim asked, glancing at Brennan's brown bag that sat on the table in front of them.

Kamp turned around, making Maxwell and Jim both stand up at the same time. Kamp looked at all four of them and quietly nodded.

"Kill them." Kamp said calmly. He walked towards the front door with a slight frown on his face.

"What do you want us to do when we're done?" Maxwell asked.

"I'll be back in ten minutes." Kamp turned his head to look at them. All four of them walked towards the basement door. Maxwell, Jim and Fred didn't like killing. They did it because they had to. On the other hand, Roy had a thirst for blood. He was the only one in the group that practiced Karate during their childhood. He was kicked out a month after he had gotten his black belt for using Karate as an offensive option.

Brennan sat there wide awake. She felt a little dizzy but the dizziness didn't keep her from nudging Booth. She tipped herself over, trying to wake him up but every time her elbow touched his forearm, he didn't stir.

"C'mon, Booth, wake up!" She whispered. Brennan tipped herself over once more and knocked her head against his shoulder.

"Huh?" Booth fluttered his eyes opened and shook his head. He glanced down at his side and saw Brennan's head on his shoulder. She got back into her seated position and watched as Booth rapidly took a visual check.

"What the—where are we?" He asked.

"We're still in the basement." She responded and saw something moist on the back of his head. "Booth…"

"Yeah?" He winced in pain.

"Is your head bleeding?" She asked. Their eyes locked in silence. Her face was washed with worry.

"I think so…" He winced in pain again. "…Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" He quickly asked, showing how much he worried about her safety.

"They didn't physically knock me out like they did to you." She informed him. "Does your head hurt?"

"I have a huge headache if that's what you're asking." He responded. He tried to break free from the rope that tied his wrists together but nothing worked. He tested the strength of the rope one more time and glanced over at his partner.

"I tried earlier." She responded, knowing what he was going to ask her next.

"Damn it." He cursed. He tried to calm down and think of a plan but just the thought of figuring out how to break free made his headache even worse.

Brennan's hands skimmed across the wall behind her. She heavily sighed and turned to Booth. "The walls don't have any loose nails or some kind of sharp tool we could use to cut our bonds."

"Not every kidnap movie has those, Bones." He glanced at her.

"I don't watch movies, Booth." She told him. He looked at her in a way that made it seem like he didn't believe her. "Okay, I've seen a couple movies but none of them involved a kidnap."

"How are we going to get out of here?" Booth angrily asked.

"You can't." Jim responded while walking down the wooden staircase. Fred, Maxwell and a devilishly smiling Roy trailed behind him.

Booth looked up at him and angrily growled. "What, are you going to kill us?"

Roy gave Booth a right hook. His fist made contact with Booth's cheek. Booth's head slid towards Brennan, making her gasp.

"Booth!" She shrieked.

"Don't make me hit you, too." Roy turned to look at her. There was a smile on his face, a smile that only a blood thirsty killer would carry and surely, Booth knew what exactly was on his mind twenty-four seven.

Booth shifted back to his regular position and calmly looked up at Roy. Roy was about to punch Booth in the face again but Fred placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Roy, stop." He told him.

Roy turned around and angrily looked at Fred. "Why should I? We were given orders to kill them."

"Can't you learn to have some fun?" Maxwell folded his arms across his chest.

"Shut up!" Roy yelled. "I'm the one who always ends up killing the damn people!"

"Stop fighting you two." Jim pressed his hand against Roy's chest, making sure that he stayed quite a distance from Maxwell.

Maxwell was Caucasian. He had chocolate brown hair and hazel eyes. He didn't look buff nor skinny, he seemed average to most people, including Kamp and the other three.

Roy was Filipino. He had black hair, dark brown eyes and a thirst for violence. His biceps were slightly smaller than Booth's but it didn't stop people from thinking he was a man who often lifted weights.

Jim was Caucasian. He had black hair, brown eyes and a clam attitude. He wasn't the type of person to put much enthusiasm into his actions. He liked taking the easy way out and often lets the others do all the work. He wasn't lazy nor was he bored. He just wanted to move on to the next task as soon as possible.

Fred was Caucasian as well. He had brown hair, green hazel eyes and a slightly reassuring smile. He didn't like hurting people as much as Roy but he did want a shot at it.

Roy ignored Jim and began to angrily stare at Maxwell. "Fine, if you're going to be like that, then hit one of them already." He dared Maxwell.

"Let's kill Dr. Brennan first." Maxwell grinned. "I want to see her partner suffer."

Booth widened his eyes in fear. He glanced over at Brennan and saw the shock in her expression. Her mouth was ajar and her eyes were filled with terror. He whipped his head around to face the group but before he could say anything, Fred held out something to their faces.

Brennan looked at the object and began to slowly swallow.

"Want to tell me why you have a picture of him?" Fred asked with a calm voice. He didn't smile nor did he frown. It was as if he had played poker his whole entire life.

Booth glanced at the picture and then at Brennan. He was speechless. His partner had kept a picture of him this whole entire time. Why? Why would she keep a picture of me? The picture was taken by Angela. She gave it to her last year and told her to keep it. Although, Brennan never wanted to but the more she carried it with her, the more confidence and reassurance she had within herself. It was as if he was there with her all the time. She hated to admit it but she liked it when he was around her. A feeling she couldn't describe would always surface.

"You have a picture of me?" Booth asked her, ignoring the fact that they might die soon.

Brennan turned her head to look at him but did not respond. Her lips formed a slight smile. That was all she could do; words could not explain why she kept the photo. She herself didn't really know why. She just kept it.

Roy snatched the photo from Fred's hand and threw it to the side. "Would you hurry up and kill the damn woman?"

Fred glanced over at Roy in a calm manner. Roy had already begun to get annoyingly pissed off.

"We have ten minutes to kill them. Isn't that enough time for you?" Fred smirked.

"If they're not killed in nine minutes then I'll kill them myself." Roy growled.

"Patience." Jim responded. "You can rough them up all you want. Just make sure that you won't spill too much blood in the process. I don't want to have to clean up the basement again."

Maxwell walked behind Brennan and yanked on the rope that tied her wrists together. He was about to pull her in front of Booth, to make him suffer first, but he protested.

"Wait!" Booth shouted. Brennan glanced over at him, curious to what he was trying to do.

"What in the world do you want now? We'll kill you after her, don't worry." Maxwell rolled his eyes.

"Please, don't kill her. Kill me." Booth looked up at them. Brennan widened her eyes and wanted to shout in objection but something held on to those words at the tip of her tongue.

Roy went up to Booth and grabbed his neck. His grip wasn't hard but it was painful for Brennan to watch. Maxwell let go of Brennan's binding and made his way towards Booth.

"There's only first and second, Agent Booth." Roy taunted him. He released his neck and waited for Maxwell to drag Booth to the center of the basement. Once his body laid there on the ground, all four of them took turns punching his face and kicking his stomach.

Booth's eyes were set on Brennan. Maxwell specifically dragged his body to the group so that Booth and Brennan would lock eyes. His chocolate brown eyes stared deep into her ocean blue eyes. Her mouth went ajar when the first punch was thrown at his face.

Booth! She couldn't watch but her head wouldn't turn on her command. Her eyelids wouldn't shut and her mouth wouldn't close. All she could do was watch as all four of them broke some of his ribs and his shoulder.

Roy threw a fury of punches at Booth's face making blood trail down from the corner of his mouth. Once Maxwell and Jim took a turn at Booth's face, he began to spew out blood. As he winced in pain, his mouth opened for a second to stifle a scream. In that one second, Brennan saw the blood that coated his teeth.

Fred kicked Booth in the back. The power and force that was put into that one kick was immense. It made Booth muffle a painful scream. His eyes were closed for only a second. Once he opened them, he only saw one thing; Brennan's eyes were widened in shock and fear. He could tell that her mind was crumbling under the view of him getting brutally beat up.

Roy cracked his knuckles and devilishly smiled. He went around to Booth's front side and kicked him in the stomach over and over. Booth winced in pain every time. The first kick, he closed his eyes. The second kick made him grind his teeth together. The third kick to the stomach made more blood drip down from the corner of his mouth. Roy kicked him again but not in the stomach. He aimed for Booth's rip cage and sure enough, Booth felt two of his ribs crack.

He held back a scream. His eyes lay on Brennan's, neither of them were sure of each other's thoughts.

Why can't I close my eyes? Why is he staring at me? Brennan thought. Her eyes trailed down to Booth's stomach. She saw blood forming on his white casual dress shirt. Someone gave him a painful kick in the calf. Booth winced in pain.

He didn't want Brennan to hear him. He knew, if she heard him scream in pain, in helplessness and in agony, then it'd forever be in her mind. He hated the fact that she witnessed him getting beat up by a couple of thugs.

Roy felt his knuckles tingle with sensation. He punched Booth in the jaw again and felt blood spurt out onto the floor.

Jim heavily sighed. "Roy, I told you not to get blood on the damn ground. I'm going to be the one cleaning all the crap up."

"Oh would you stop whining!" Roy angrily growled at him.

While the four were arguing, Booth opened his eyes. He saw Brennan's scared expression. Her mouth was ajar, as if a car crash had just happened in front of her. Her eyes were the size of oranges. She closed her mouth to slowly swallow but it when ajar again.

Booth began to smile. He tried to reassure her that he'd be okay. He tried so hard but nothing got through to her. Brennan just kept on staring.

Maxwell stepped in between Roy and Jim. He pushed both of them apart. "That's enough you two. We're supposed to be doing our job but instead you're both acting like immature brats."

"Fine." Roy growled. He grabbed the switchblade that sat next to the pile of rope and walked towards Booth. He looked down at his bleeding body and smiled devilishly. "If you want to make it quick—"

"You guys still haven't killed them yet?" Kamp asked from the top of the wooden staircase.

Roy, Jim, Fred and Maxwell all turned their heads to stare at him. Had ten minutes really past? Kamp looked down at them and heavily sighed.

"I was going to…" Roy lowered the switchblade. "…Give me two seconds. I'll kill them both!"

"No." Kamp shook his head.

All four of them looked up at him in shock. "No?" Jim furrowed his eyebrows.

"The FBI are on to us; we'll have to leave as soon as possible."

"But—" Roy tried to protest.

"If you want to get caught, then stay here." Kamp responded sternly. He glared at Roy before turning to walk away.

Jim, Fred and Maxwell all started to walk up the wood stairs but Roy stayed back for a bit. Jim turned around and glared at Roy. "Are you coming or what?"

"Let me just do one more thing." Roy walked towards Booth and held the switchblade to his back.

Brennan widened her eyes and wanted to scream out Booth's name, thinking that he was going to kill him. Booth didn't look back. He just kept his eyes on his partner, trying to make his lips form that charmed smile she always liked.

Roy cut the rope that held Booth's wrists together. Fred widened his eyes in curiosity. "What the hell are you doing, Roy!?"

"Just hold on." Roy responded. He grabbed Booth's left arm. He bent it back before he widened that devilish smile of his.

In a split second, all hell broke loose. Brennan widened her eyes as she heard Booth's arm crack. He let out a loud scream, one that shook the walls in all directions. Roy snickered once he heard the loud crack.

Booth couldn't help but scream. His arm slumped in front of him, his eyes wouldn't open because of the immense pain, his mouth wouldn't shut and the pain wouldn't subside.

Fred widened his eyes in fear. He had never seen Roy act like that before. The blood thirsty killer walked up the stairs and towards them. All three of them tried to ignore what just happened but they couldn't. When they closed the basement door, they still heard Booth's scream.

Booth eventually stopped screaming. He couldn't feel his left arm, he couldn't move it. He tried to dig out his right arm from underneath but felt his body roll over. His chest hit the cool cement ground with a thud. His stomach was throbbing in pain and his ribs felt horrible. He was in no shape to move but he had to make sure his partner was alright.

He looked up at her and saw the horrible fear in her eyes. He crawled towards her, inch by inch. He was in unbearable pain.

"Bones." He gasped.

Brennan didn't answer. Her mouth still ajar and her eyes still wide, fear washed over her face. The unbearable sound of Booth screaming in agony replayed over and over in her head.

"Bones." He gasped again.

Brennan looked down at him. Something clicked in her head. Her thoughts came down to earth and the words seemed to easily slip from the tip of her tongue.

"Booth…" She breathed.

"Hang on." He tried to crawl to her. He used his one arm and his two legs. Could things get any worse?

"You shouldn't move." She told him. "You'll lose more blood—"

"Turn around so I can untie the rope." He cut her off.

"You won't be able to, they're too tight—"

"Just turn around, Bones." He ordered her.

Brennan pressed her lips together and scooted around. She looked at the concrete wall in front of her and felt his hand graze against her forearm. His touch was warm and reassuring. All the torture and pain he went through and he still had the strength to crawl towards her to untie her rope.

Booth winced in pain as his shoulder throbbed. He tried the best he could to untie the rope that bind her wrists together. In a matter of minutes, he finally got her free. Brennan felt the rope slide off her hands and onto the floor. Booth's arm fell to the floor in defeat.

Brennan turned around and quietly rushed to his aid. He looked up at her with a slight smile.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

She breathed a laugh and tried to hold back the tears. "I should be asking you that."

"I feel just dandy." He joked with a slight smile. Brennan smiled back and helped him roll over. She placed her hand on the side of his chest and flipped him over. He stifled a small scream as his sides throbbed in pain.

Brennan winced at his painful expression. "Most of your ribs are probably fractured."

"I figured that much." He gasped and looked up at her. She looked down at the smeared blood on the concrete floor and then at Booth's stomach. His small smile turned into a worried frown.

"Bones…"

"We have to get out of here." She looked at their surroundings.

Booth tried to stand up but he could barely get his upper half to rise. "If I can just get to the door – I'm sure I can break it down or—" He winced in pain and felt Brennan's hands on his back.

"You shouldn't be moving around, Booth. Just lie down and try to take it easy. The more you move the more blood you'll lose." She informed him.

"But we have to get out of here…" He felt his upper body slump back onto the concrete.

"I'll try to find a way out. If my bag is around here, I can call for the ambulance and we can get you to the hospital." She stood up but Booth's right arm caught her ankle.

She curiously looked down at him.

"What about Kamp and those other guys? What about them? We can't just let them get away like that—"

"I don't care about them, Booth. We need to get you to the hospital."

"Bones, they're murderers on the loose. If we let them get away then we might not be able to find them again. And besides, I'm fine—" He tried to get up but it was no use.

"You can barely move." She sighed.

"Just give me a minute to recover." He heavily breathed.

"Stay here." She walked up the wooden staircase and tried to turn the doorknob but the door was locked.

"Is it locked?" Booth asked loudly.

"Yeah." Brennan responded. "I could try to break down the door—"

"Don't. It's harder than it looks, Bones." He smirked.

"What are we going to do then?" Brennan walked down the wooden staircase and heavily sighed. She walked over to Booth and sat down beside him. She glanced down at his stomach and saw the blood seeping through his white casual shirt. His dislocated left arm was on top of the blood but since he couldn't move it there was no pressure to stop the bleeding.

"I'll be fine." He tried to reassure her.

"We need to get you to a hospital…"

"I've been through worse. This is nothing." He tried to form a smile.

Brennan glanced in the other direction, she saw her bag and Booth's guns sitting in the corner of the basement. She furrowed her eyebrows and got up to get them. Booth raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"Bones? Bones, where're you going?" He asked, turning his head to follow her.

Brennan kneeled down to her bag and rummaged through it. It wasn't a mirage and it wasn't a hallucination. It was real. Booth's guns, the tweezers, her cell phone and his cell phone, it was all real.

She turned on her cell phone. As her eyes lay on the four bars of service, a smile drew across her face. She turned to show him her smile of hope. She ran back to kneel beside him.

"What is it?" He asked.

"You're going to be okay." She told him. She dialed 911 on her phone and pressed it to her ear. Brennan looked down at him and placed a reassuring hand on his right arm – his good arm.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His eyes fluttered open. Booth felt his shoulder throb. The pain killers weren't doing much work and his left arm was still in that darn sling. He leaned forward to get into a comfortable position but it felt like his ribs were punching themselves. He rested his head back into the pillows with a painful expression on.

He glanced down at the tray desk that hovered over his hospital bed and saw a pudding cup sitting next to a spoon.