A/N: No, I don't know how Booth could recognize Brennan's scream from outside. But the great thing about being the author is that I can do whatever the hell I like with this story ! :) Isn't it wonderful?

The format of this is a little screwy. I decided to try a new one. The sections alternate points of view between the two, starting with Brennan, then Booth. The only exception is the last segment, the really long one, which is both POVs, since the order says Brennan but she's kinda incapacitated...

She had entered the dilapidated building to pursue a suspect. She knew that he had raped and murdered at least three innocent girls. She did not know that he kept himself armed at all times, for occasions such as these. Two shots to the abdomen informed her all too quickly.

--

He had sauntered down the sidewalk, mumbling about tourists invading his parking spaces and his bar. He had intended to enter Wong Foo's and have a drink with Sid. The sound of his partner's scream changed his mind all too quickly.

--

She screamed in her head. Or maybe aloud. She couldn't really tell. The pain was all that mattered. It seared through her body, ripping at her internal organs. She tried to apply pressure to the wound, but logic failed when another wave of pain came crashing down atop her. She faded in and out of consciousness until the sound of her partner's voice snapped her back.

"Bones? Is that you?" she could hear him shout. She tried to open her mouth to speak, but now words could escape.

--

"Hello?"

He raised his gun in a two-hand grip, knuckles turning white because he knew what was waiting for him. The maze of rooms mocked him and tested his senses. A groan, thick with pain, sounded from the door to his left. His grip tightened on his gun as he turned sharply to face it.

--

"Bones," she heard him croak. She wheezed in response, too weak to do much else. Her fragile body was slumped against the far wall and blood had pooled below her and on her torso. Her limp arm partially covered the wound.

"Booth," she whispered. Her blank expression turned to a grimace as a bolt of pain shot through her abdomen, tearing at her from the inside out. He ran to her and knelt low, tending to the wounds. He peeled back her navy blue shirt to reveal an expanse of milk-and-honey skin tainted with spots of red. He dialed 911 as he attempted to keep her conscious, and the phone snapped shut the instant the dispatcher told him an ambulance was on its way. He needed to make himself more accessible.

He scooped her up bridal style and carried her down the stairs, her head lolling to the side as she fought unconsciousness. He tried to locate the nearest exit.

"Come on, Bones. Stay with me," he huffed as he tried to find his way out of the massive labyrinth. He clutched her closer to his chest and slammed his shoulder through a rotting wooden door. She whimpered against his chest and he let up a bit. "It's okay, Temperance. I'll make sure you're safe."

A look at her face told him she wouldn't last much longer.

He set her down gently against a wall in the hallway and looked out the dusty, greasy window, blindly hoping that his gaze would make the medics come faster. He shed his t-shirt and balled it up, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. His chest glistened with a panicked sweat and his arms worked carefully to minimize her pain. Her eyes fluttered shut like dying butterflies and he could almost feel the life draining from her. He cupped her cheeks in his large hand, trying not to snap her.

"Don't let go, Temperance." He pleaded with the good Lord above to save her, to keep her with him, to kill the sick bastard that did this to her. "Come on, don't give up." She collapsed a bit further as she seemingly accepted defeat. A wave of panic swept through him and he clutched her to his bare chest, receiving a thick coating of blood. "I can't lose you," he whispered despondently. He clutched the fabric of her shirt in his strong grip.e "Not now. God, Bones, I love you too much."

A stretcher came into view and the paramedics whisked Brennan away swiftly, leaving Booth standing there, a deer in the headlights.

Before you come to my house and maul me and kick my dog, I've got to tell you: DON'T FREAK. God, the last time I did this and killed Booth, you guys just about murdered me...

Well? What'd you think? See, there's this really cool thing where you can type what you thought and I can read it, and all you have to do it press a button!