AN: Once again I don't own Bones. You can consider this my tag for The Science in the Physicist; frankly the way that Booth got so uncomfortable in the Radiation suit was completely foolish, especially with his past training, unless there was a reason behind it. Here's my little explanation for why he was acting like a little baby, once again looking into his past. Sorry, I'm cranky; I've been up for nearly 20 hours now after about 4 hours of sleep.

Httttttch-haaaaaaah, httttttch-haaaaaah. Httttttch-haaaaaaah, httttttch-haaaaaah.

Deep breaths, that's what they told you. When you wear the M95 gas mask it helps to keep you calm if you take deep controlled breaths. Of course half the things they tell you don't make sense and the other half are completely full of shit. But you'll give these guys the benefit of the doubt here because frankly you have no idea how to cope with this.

Httttttch-haaaaaaah, httttttch-haaaaaah. Httttttch-haaaaaaah, httttttch-haaaaaah.

You don't want to admit it but the mask makes you feel extremely claustrophobic; the taste of sterile rubber and alcohol rather than human smells and the feel of slightly slick rubber rather than the touch of a cool breeze. Your eye-ports are scratched and smeared from the wear and tear of years of use; hopefully the filters are new.

Httch-haah, httch-haah. Httch-haah, httch-haah. Httch-haah, httch-haah. Httch-haah, httch-haah.

Shit, thinking about having a faulty filter is enough to get your heart to pump at a million miles a minute and your breathing to get rapid and shallow. Hyperventilating is only going to make this worse Seeley. You know this you have to calm the fuck down.

Httttch-haaaah, httttch-haaaah. Httttch-haaaah, httttch-haaaah.

Better Seeley, see talking to yourself can help you calm down. The elastic retaining strips which hold the mask tightly to your face rub and irritate the back of your head through your hair. Damn that's annoying but you can't exactly scratch it what with the tons of rubber you have on at the moment.

Httttch-haaaah, httttch-haaaah. Httttch-haaaah, httttch-haaaah.

You can feel the sweat dripping off your body as the fully rubberized suit is worn over top of your regular uniform. And wearing combat gear on top of it does nothing to improve the situation at all in the slightest. The damn rubber gloves are slick to your touch and the bulk of them make holding your weapon steady a challenge.

Htttch-haaah, htttch-haaah. Htttch-haaah, htttch-haaah.

You have to force yourself to peer through the sight ports of the mask as everything is so obscured and blurry; this only makes moving through the training lane even more difficult. It'd be hard enough to climb a 100 meter 50 degree incline in standard combat gear but throwing a rubberized suit and oversized ill-fitting rubberized boots into the mix as well just makes it agonizing.

Htttch-haaah, htttch-haaah. Htttch-haaah, htttch-haaah.

You scramble up the dirt and leaves of the forested hillside following the obscured figure in front of you. Goddamn CBRN assault course. If you stumble and fall or even take a knee you're a No-Go for the course. NBC gear is too sensitive and valuable and is unfortunately easily compromised by a rock or a stick accidently catching and tearing through the rubber. You honestly wonder about how much of a problem it would actually be but don't want to have to re-do this course all over again so you shut up about it.

Httch-haah, httch-haah. Httch-haah, httch-haah. Httch-haah, httch-haah. Httch-haah, httch-haah.

Your blood pumps faster and your breathing accelerates rapidly as you ascend the hill. The stress of physical exertion coupled with the increasing sense of claustrophobia that you're feeling; calm yourself Seeley you only have another 20 meters to go until you reach the top of the hill and you can finish up this damn exercise.

Httch-haah, httch-haah. Httch-haah, httch-haah. Httch-haah, httch-haah. Httch-haah, httch-haah.

Your vision is definitely beginning to cloud up as you gasp your way over the crest of the hill. Your heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest by the way it's pounding against your ribs. You feel a million years old as you receive and relay the signal to take up a perimeter; your rifle weighs as much as an anvil as you raise it up as you kind of sit/crouch behind a rather large oak tree. The bark looks like one grayish mass through the foggy lenses of your mask.

Httch-haah, httch-haah. Httch-haah, httch-haah. Httch-haah, httch-haah. Httch-haah, httch-haah.

Damnit what now? Oh just the signal that we have to investigate a suspicious container of liquid and guess who gets to be the lucky one to do that? You stumble half blind over to where the container is hands fumbling as you extract your packet of NBC indicator paper. The claustrophobia is overwhelming you now as you wipe the stick checking to see if it's contaminated. The paper comes back negative so you wrap another piece of paper around a stick; your vision is definitely blurring and it's not because of the foggy mask, you're actively fighting the urge to rip your mask off.

Htch-hah, htch-hah. Htch-hah, htch-hah. Htch-hah, htch-hah. Htch-hah, htch-hah.

Your hand is definitely fumbling as you maneuver the stick towards the container. As you dip the paper into the liquid dark spots start to intrude upon the limits of your vision; your mouth is insanely dry now. What's happening to you? Since when does Seeley Booth get like this? Of course since when does Seeley Booth happen to be handling nerve gas in its liquid form, because the paper changes color to indicate the presence of nerve agents in the container.

Htch-ha, htch-ha. Htch-ha, htch-ha. Htch-ha, htch-ha. Htch-ha, htch-ha.

As you call over to the squad leader your hand suddenly falters and the stick you're holding swishes back and forth suddenly. The next thing you know is that there's a tipped over container of nerve agents less than two feet from where you're crouching and that the stream of liquid is heading towards you. Do the words: "FUCK MY LIFE!" have any meaning to you? You scream out a warning and back pedal to get out of the way.

Or you would if you hadn't just tripped over your own oversized boots just then. You feel no little pain as you slam down into the rocky dirt.

Htch-ha, htch-ha. Htch-ha, htch-ha. Htch-ha, htch-ha. Htch-ha, htch-ha.

Rocky dirt. Rocks. NBC suit. Shit. Is your suit compromised? Fuck that nerve agent is flowing like a damn river now towards your scrambling prone body! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! You scramble to get out of the way but for some reason you're unable to get away from the stuff before you see it seep down past and under your leg.

And is that a rip in the rubber of your suit?

Htch-ha, htch-ha. Htch-ha, htch-ha. Htch-ha, htch-ha. Htch-ha, htch-ha.

Your heart is pumping in overdrive and your breathing is getting uncontrollable. You have to get out of here. You have to breathe. Take off your mask and hood Seeley and you can calm down. Do it Seeley, you have to or else you're going to pass out.

You rip off your mask and the rubber hood of your suit. You hear loud far away noises. You have no idea where they're coming from or what they're saying, all you know is that you have to have your mask off or else you'll die. You start to wheeze in deep breaths but your vision is getting darker just as the light of the sun is getting brighter in your eyes. You garble out a scream as you barely make out a dark figure grabbing you and driving a needle into your leg.

You don't know when you stop screaming, only when your vision goes away completely.

**********************************************************************************************************

You rush out of Dr. Sidman's office gasping your heart beating much faster than normal. You were so glad to get the all clear and be allowed to take off your mask and open up your suit; just your luck that you sat down in that chair with that radioactive liquid.

You burst into the bathroom down the hall; it's so bright and clean it hurts your eyes just to look at it. You turn on the tap and splash cold water on your face trying to calm yourself down. You start breathing slower as you slowly start to calm down; but your eyes keep drifting to your leg. Beneath the rad-suit and the pair of pants you're wearing under that is a deep scar on your right leg; a scar that is burning like a lit fire at the moment as the memories start flooding back to you.

You tell yourself that it's all fine, the liquid is no longer dangerous and that everything was fine; you had to lose it in front of Bones didn't you? But you can't help shuddering as you remember a time when that innocuous liquid wasn't safe.

As you walk out of the bathroom your scar twinges one last time as a reminder.

AN: Just as a clarification CBRN stands for Chemical Biological Radiation Nuclear and NBC stands for Nuclear Biological Chemical. All soldiers go through at least some basic training in these disciplines and as a Ranger the character of Booth would have gone through at least some more stringent training than that.