Sounds shot like bullets in the air. Every movement had a sound, every voice alarming. The air seemed stale and tasted of blood, and death, and sterility. Rockets of pain pierced his brain as the rushing people around him blurred into nothing.
Everyone was talking, but nobody was talking to him. The world seemed to forget he existed for several seconds until a firm hand pressed into his arm. Dark eyes darted to light, and like a book he was able to interpret everything she was going to say before she said it.
Panic surged through not just his body, but his soul.
Two lives hang in the balance.
One he couldn't live without, and the other he hadn't even met.
Both in danger.
Both, hanging by a thin, fraying thread.
The droning voice spoke in a language that he was familiar with, but couldn't understand. His tone concerned, his eyes uncaring.
This was just a job for this doctor.
A job he hated.
Caring for people that he didn't care about.
His words spoken, but not one processed. The doctor turned and walked away, disappearing.
Booth was numb.
Blood rushing in his ears as he tried to get the world to stop spinning. Stop spinning for just one moment.
The blurred sights and sounds were constantly being overshadowed by the image of Brennan's collapse onto the platform. He had heard the sound of the metal, the sound of the glass beakers, and the shouts of her colleagues. He had heard the phone skitter to the floor, sliding from her grasp as her body failed her and dropped her without warning to the cold hard platform floor. He had heard the sirens wailing in the distance as he sped through the streets to find where they were taking her.
The hand on his arm went unnoticed for a moment. He felt it squeezing and turned. Dark eyes stared back at him. She wanted to know what the doctor said.
He couldn't remember.
It was just seconds ago, but the words that the doctor had spoken were lost, and he was numb.
"Booth?" Angela snapped. "Booth, look at me!" Angela's voice rattled with terror. "What did the doctor say?"
"I don't know." He whispered.
The expression on Angela's face transformed from terror to rage in just the blink of an eye. Booth suddenly realized that the room was starting to overflow with concerned people who came to check on Brennan. "What do you mean you don't know?" Angela snapped, sending his eyes back to hers.
"I don't know. I don't know what's going on. I'm not a doctor. I don't know."
"But the doctor just spoke to you." Angela replied. "He just talked to you, and you said nothing!" Angela exclaimed. "What did the doctor say about Brennan?"
"I don't know." Booth repeated.
Those three words sounded like defeat. They rolled off his tongue so easily, because it was nothing but God's honest truth. He didn't know what the doctor said. He didn't know what was going on. He didn't know anything except that the lives of his girlfriend and his child were at risk.
Nothing else mattered.
What could he do?
"Why didn't you take care of her? You should have seen that she was sick, Booth! Why didn't you do anything?" Angela's piercing voice sent shudders down his spine, her accusations stabbing him time and time again, twisting the dagger into his chest deeper. Her taunting shouts continued, and Booth was quickly turning pale. She was right up in his face, pressing her finger in his chest, when everything seemed to just snap into place.
"Stop!" Booth shouted, and everything went silent. He held his hands out in protest. Angela's mouth hung open as she focused on the fire that was now in Booth's eyes. The blurs of nurses and doctors had slowed, and eyes roamed to the small crowd of people that had exited the waiting room. "Just, stop."
"Mr. Booth." The nurse's voice broke the silence.
Booth turned his head, and he tried to read her eyes. This woman was very good at her job, for she revealed nothing in her expression. "You can follow me." She said, moving her hand to encourage him to follow her.
His body twisted in one movement, and without a look behind him, he was escorted through the doors of the emergency ward.