Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who stuck around for this story! Sorry it's taken so long to get out! This is the end, and although I'm not happy with it I'm tired of leaving this undone. It is what it is. I hope you all enjoyed it!


A week later

Brennan ran up the steps that led inside to Booth's apartment building. She took herself through the path she knew so well until she reached his front door. Excitedly she smacked her fist against the door as hard as she could. They had it. She and Hodgins had done it.

Paramedics had taken them from Alejandro's compound straight to the hospital. Brennan had been kept over night before being released. From there she'd gone straight to work in the lab with Hodgins. Having nearly lost Booth twice right before her very eyes had stroked the fire within her. And sure enough, the two had found a cure. Or so they hoped.

Booth had been kept longer in the hospital because of all of his complications due to the poison. He'd only tolerated the treatment for so long. One afternoon Brennan went to visit him only to discover he'd checked himself out against medical advice.

She'd not bothered him. One because she'd been working straight around the clock. For another to wanted to give him some space. Booth was handling the situation in a manner she didn't understand. But now that she realized it'd been a week since she'd heard from him, she was troubled.

The pounding on his door caused Booth to wince. The sound of it bounced around inside his brain, already weakened from a horrible migraine. He breathed in and out unevenly. Uncontrollably his muscles would spasm at times. Sweat soaked his hair and clothes. He knew exactly what was happening to him. This was it. The end. If he had thought it would do any good he would have phoned for an ambulance. But it was just as he'd known all along. There was nothing anyone could do for him.

The banging grew to be intense. "Booth!" Brennan hollered through the wood. "It's me!"

Booth exhaled. He stammered to his feet. The floor was like a tilt-a-whirl as he staggered back and forth to the door. He firmly grabbed onto the door jamb before opening.

Brennan inhaled in shock as soon as she saw him. Was this why she hadn't heard from him? He hadn't looked nearly so terrible the last time she'd seen him. She hadn't expected the symptoms to hit him so hard, so suddenly. "Booth, I think I got it. Hodgins and I worked out the formula and I believe we have an antidote."

He nodded, only half comprehending her. "Good job, Bones." His eyes closed.

"Booth…?" She came into his personal space.

He moved to let her inside. As he was doing so his legs gave out. Down to the floor he crashed. Weakly he tried to push himself back up.

"Booth!" Brennan slammed the door shut. She knelt next to him, helping him onto his back and resting him against the wall in a sitting up position. From her purse she produced the vial with the life saving liquid inside. Originally the plan she had was to take him to the hospital. There they would inject the antidote straight into his blood. But she could see now there was no time for that. Carefully so as not to spill a drop she took the top off. "You have to drink this," she told him urgently.

He looked back at her through glassy eyes. She could see they didn't have long. She raised the vial to his lips, tilting the liquid into his mouth. Lovingly she put a hand on his cheek to steady him. The warmth of his skin was a shock to her.

Booth downed every last drop. He tilted sideways. Abruptly his body jerked as another spasm took hold. Brennan braced him. She held him securely in her arms as he continued to involuntarily wiggle. His wreathing frightened her.

If Brennan thought that was the worst, she was mistaken. The real terror came when he stopped moving. When his body was no longer rigid. When his breaths were slow and labored. And when he no longer responded to her touch. Her voice.

She began to cry, refusing to let go. She was too late. Booth had been right all along. He'd been able to save her but she'd been useless to him. What did she do now? Did she take him to the hospital? Booth had deemed that a waste of time straight from the beginning.

For hours she held him as he continued to slip into an unknown place. Every few minutes she pressed her fingers against his neck to check his pulse. So far it hadn't changed. If he was getting weaker, then he was still holding on.

As the night wore on and peace set in around them Brennan had to fight to stay awake. She feared if she drifted off she'd lose him. Deliriously she sporadically spoke to him in an attempt to stay awake. Once again she pressed her fingers against his neck. "No change," she murmured. "Just keep holding on, Booth."

Finally, she couldn't fight it anymore. Still gripping him tightly, she fell into a fitful sleep. When she awoke once again she found she was no longer on the floor. She'd been placed on top of Booth's couch. A scratchy gray woolen blanket had been thrown over her. Brennan laid still, blinking and struggling to remember how she had gotten there.

No, she knew for sure she'd fallen asleep cradling Booth on the floor. Someone had moved her. She sat up and looked around frantically. Booth was gone. In a panic she flung the blanket off of her. What had she slept through?

Booth was sitting at his small table in the kitchen when she found him. He was expressionless. His eyes were weary. "Booth?" She fretted.

The morning sun shined in on his face. Slowly, he smiled. "Yeah, Bones?"

Gasping, she pulled him tightly into her arms.

The end