Have a Little Faith in Me

When the tears you cry are all you can believe
Just give these loving arms a try, baby
Have a little faith in me

Author's Note: My response to the most recent episode. One-shot, but a chapter may be added later to finish things off. BB love all the way. That crazy episode almost made me cry, so I wanted to convey some of the hidden emotions in this piece. Enjoy and review!

"Come on, let's get you home."

Her muscles burned in protest as Booth hauled her to her feet. The late afternoon sun, so bright in the sky over their heads, warmed her entire body and Brennan let released a quiet sigh. Booth's hand, still closed over hers, tightened in a subtle squeeze.

They were quiet on the drive to her apartment and Brennan watched the scenery pass outside of the window, overly aware of Booth's presence beside her in the driver's seat. It seemed like forever before they pulled into the parking lot. Brennan wasn't surprised when Booth cut the engine and opened his door, coming around to the other side to open hers as well. She wanted to chide him for his coddling, but she knew that he needed to be needed right now.

When they reached her apartment, Booth found her key on his keychain and unlocked the door. He stepped into her living room, already removing his jacket and kicking off his shoes. Brennan hesitated in the threshold, eyes roaming the entryway, taking everything in.

"Bones, what is it?" Booth questioned upon noticing her stillness, turning to look at her.

At his words, Brennan smiled wistfully and shook her head.

"Nothing," she replied. After a brief pause, she looked up at him. "It's just… near the end…" she swallowed. "I didn't think I'd ever make it home again."

Booth's eyes softened and he moved towards her, intending to offer comfort. Before he could reach her side, however, Brennan stepped forward and closed the door behind her, turning away from him to unlace her boots and toss them in the closet.

Booth watched her for a moment before gently capturing her arm from behind. He turned her to face him, surprised when she didn't resist. He studied the lines of her face as her blue eyes gazed intently into his, filled with tiredness and emotion.

"Take a shower, you're covered in dirt," Booth whispered, brushing his fingertips lightly along her cheekbone. She nodded, unable to speak. "I'll wash your clothes," he said.

"You don't have to do that, Booth. I'm perfectly capable–" she fell quiet as his fingers slid to her lips, effectively shushing her.

"No, Bones… Temperance. Let me, please," his voice was laced with a hidden desperation.

"Okay," she nodded again, noting that words seemed to be failing her.

Easing away from him, Brennan headed towards the back hallway. Booth followed her at a distance, settling himself on her bed while she changed in the bathroom adjoined to the bedroom. A moment later, Brennan poked her head around the door.

"Booth?" she called.

He rose from her bed, the springs squeaking slightly as he moved. He collected the dusty pile of clothes from Brennan with a small smile, standing at the closed door until he heard the shower turn on. Content that she was fine, Booth took her clothes, still warm from her body, to the washing machine.

Her laundry room was small; both washer and dryer took up the entire wall on one side and a sink and counter flanked the opposite wall, barely leaving enough room for him to maneuver. Depositing the clothes on the counter, Booth began his laundry ritual. He took Brennan's jeans and buttoned the button, shaking them out to remove the wrinkles. When Booth slipped his hand into the front pocket, intending to turn it inside-out, he encountered a folded piece of paper whose contents were mysterious to him. Curious, he smoothed the paper out and began to read.


If you're reading this, I guess my beginner's luck has worn off.

He immediately knew what he was reading – Brennan's goodbye note.

Do you remember our first case together? I hated you so much, and I got the idea that the feeling was mutual. You were annoying, egotistical, insulting, and a plain pain in the ass. I remember thinking that there was no way in hell we were ever going to be able to get along. But I was wrong, Booth… so completely wrong.

Being your partner has meant so much to me. I know I didn't always say it, but I care about you. You're my friend, my best friend. Thanks to you, I know what lies beyond the confines of the lab, and I love you for showing me that.

His breathing hitched and he struggled to fight off the emotion that swelled in his chest.

I only ask three things of you. One – don't blame yourself for what happened to me and Hodgins, none of this is your fault. Two – don't become like me. Live your life to its fullest, fall in love, have more children, enjoy all of those clichés that I never could have succumbed to. You deserve all the happiness this world has to offer.

Finally, catch the bastard who did this to us. That will be your redemption.



P.S. The final draft of my manuscript is in the bottom drawer of my dresser. Make sure it gets sent to my editor. And no, you can't read it.

Booth's hands were shaking and the tears that threatened to fall were blurring the words on the page before him. He was fully aware that, if he had been mere minutes later, she would have been dead and he would have been reading this letter in entirely different circumstances. Before, when he pulled her from the ground, he had been so deliriously happy to have found her alive that the weight of the situation, the big 'what if', hadn't sunk in. Until now.

Booth lost control of himself. He stumbled backwards, his back hitting the only free wall in the tiny laundry room. Sinking to the floor, he hugged his legs and rested his head on his forearms, face buried in his knees. He trembled, not crying, but so full of emotion that he thought he might stop breathing.

Minutes passed before he heard her footsteps in the hall. Booth struggled to pull himself together, but the attempt was useless. As soon as she rounded the corner and stopped before the laundry room door, he felt the very first tears leak from his eyes. Brennan didn't move, and he knew that she was studying him and that if he looked up, he would lose it.

"Seeley…" her voice was low and soft, teasing his senses. "What's wrong?"

He waved his hand, the letter she had written still squeezed within his fist, and she understood. Brennan shifted closer, blocking the light from the hallway, and Booth raised his eyes to hers, shrugging half-heartedly as a strangled sob escaped from deep within him.

In two steps she was by his side on the floor, her knees pressed to his thigh and her hands on his shoulders. She pulled him to her chest and slipped an arm around his neck, caressing the tense muscles of his back. Booth gasped for breathe, dampening the soft silk of her robe with his tears. Brennan just held him closer and rocked him from side-to-side, running her lips softly over the crown of his head.

"I… I almost lost you," he turned his head, his ear resting just above her heart. "You were dying… and I… I couldn't do anything to stop it…" the mumbled and breathless words hung between them, freezing the moment.

Brennan anchored her hands in his hair, tilting his head gently until he looked at her. She held his gaze, her own eyes rimmed red from crying, and brushed a whisper of a kiss across his forehead.

"I had faith in you, Booth," she whispered. "That faith saved me more than anything. I knew you would come…"

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering there to taste his skin, salty from his tears. Her hands released his hair and moved to his face, tracing the contours of him, his stubble sensuously scraping against her palm. Brennan kissed him everywhere, the tip of his nose, his jaw, his closed eyelids, murmuring reassuring words that soothed his aching conscience.

When her lips met his, he knew without a doubt that they would be okay.

Because he had faith in her too.