I couldn't move, couldn't look up, and couldn't seem to make my body follow my mind's directions.

Instead, I just laid there, hands covering my head, as I took the beating.

"Oh, my God!" My mother's shrill cry came from somewhere up the yard. "Call 911! Ron!"

The blows finally stopped as I heard the footsteps of the man beating me retreat, but my body was hurting so badly I couldn't force myself to move even then.

My fingers twitched as I finally split them, allowing myself to see for the first time since the attack had begun.

My consciousness waned as pain rippled through me, and I passed out the moment my mother's cries made it to my side.

If there was ever a wish that I could wish for, it would be for the man I love to never have to respond to a call that involved me.

In a perfect world, that would come true.

However, we didn't live in a perfect world.

We lived in reality, and reality meant that Booth did respond to calls that involved me.

I heard the scuffle before my eyes even opened.

"Not right now, motherfucker," Booth said. "Get the fuck away from me."

I tried to turn my head in the direction of that voice that usually sent shivers down my spine, but I couldn't move. Something was holding me immobile.

"I need to talk to her," another deep male voice said, sorrow filling his voice.

"Get the fuck away from me. Now, Roberts," Booth ordered.

Cool, rough hands touched my cheek, and I opened my bleary eyes to find Booth's staring straight into them.

"Hey," I croaked. "What's with all the f-bombs?"

I smiled, or tried to, and he dropped his forehead down to mine.

"Thank fucking God," he whispered, tremors making his usually rough voice even rougher.

"You're scaring me," I rasped, my belly starting to make twists and turns that weren't conducive to holding my breakfast down.

"You've already scared me," he countered. "Do you have any idea what it's like to know you're responding to a call that involves your woman?"

"I don't have a woman," I informed him.

My levity in this situation didn't go over well with him.

"Shut it," he ordered. "Save your strength."

I glared at him or his forehead anyway.

"What happened?" I asked, voice a little stronger now.

My voice sounded terrible, almost as if I'd been throat punched.

"Pain meds are working," Booth suddenly barked, lifting his head completely from mine and staring at someone over the length of my body.

"Good," another man replied, it was a voice I didn't quite recognize at this moment in time.

Although that might have been because of the pain meds that Booth said were working.

My head felt like it was floating.

"The mom wants to ride to the hospital with her," another unfamiliar voice cut in.

"Let her," Booth said. "I'll take lead on this."

"You're not taking lead," another countered. "We haven't done the narcotics transfer yet, and I don't feel like getting my ass handed to me by the chief."

I smiled at Booth's glare.

"Let them do their job. Why are you here already, anyway?" I asked.

I'd left him getting ready for work, and he should have been there by now.

"You'd already left. What was the point in me staying at home when it's empty?" He asked me, sounding tired and sad.

I frowned at him, or tried to. I wasn't sure my face was working correctly.

"Unfair."

He grinned and pressed his lips to my forehead.

"Nothing's fair in love and war," he countered.

"Is my face working?" I asked him.

He blinked.

"What do you mean?" He asked, looking slightly alarmed.

"Am I drooling?" I clarified.

He shook his head. "No, are you trying to?"

I sighed.

"You're not being very fair, here. Usually I would smack you, but I don't think my hands are working at the moment," I said, slightly annoyed.

"Your hands aren't working because they're strapped down to the back board underneath of you," Tai cut in, making me turn my head to him.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. "You're supposed to be with Mia."

"I'm here, too," Mia said softly.

She sounded like she was crying.

"I can't see you," I told her. "Come into the light."

Mia's watery giggle had me smiling...I hoped.

Mia appeared and not long after my mother did as well.

"Why are y'all not at work?" I asked my mom, startled.

"I was leaving when you...you know," she gestured to me with her hand, encompassing all of my body.

"Do you think maybe y'all can back up and let me do my job?" A frustrated man's voice asked, the same one that said he wouldn't be letting Booth take lead.

Everyone backed up, and I turned my eyes to the new guy.

"Who are you?" I asked him, licking my lips when my voice cracked.

He was hot. Not in a cute way, though, but more like a 'holy shit he's sexy' way. The man could easily pass for Thor, sans beard.

"I'm Frank," he replied shortly.

I blinked at his attitude.

"You don't look like a Frank," I informed him.

I never knew when to shut up.

"Yeah?" He asked. "What do I look like?"

Was that a smile I heard in his voice?

It couldn't be. The man didn't look like he ever smiled.

"A butch, or a Thor or something," I tried.

Yep, that's exactly what I said.

To the man that looked like he could break me in half if he had a mind to do so.

Frank smiled at me, then turned his gaze to Booth who was still at my head.

"Pick her up in three," he said. "One, two, three."

I was lifted up and put onto the gurney that was directly beside the backboard.

I'd never once been in this position before, and I found myself not enjoying it half as much as I thought I would.

"When I was fantasizing about you, Booth," I said, drawing Booth's attention. "It was never supposed to be this way."

"What?" Booth asked, a smile in his voice.

"Well," I said as they wheeled me to the back of the ambulance. "I had these ideas," I slurred as my eyes drifted closed. "They involved you and me in the back of an ambulance."

"Oh yeah?" Laughter was now making his words shaky.

"Yeah," I confirmed without opening my eyes. "You were supposed to say you had to check to make sure I was wearing clean panties."

"Masen Crisfield," my mother said sharply. "Stop talking, please."

I grinned.

"You know, mom," I said. "I'm not a virgin anymore. And I haven't been since I was seventeen."

My mother sighed and Booth laughed.

Frank's rumbled laugh had me opening my eyes.

"What?" I looked at him.

"You're feeling nice and loose, aren't you?" He guessed.

I tried to nod, but the thing they had around my neck held me immobile. "That's right. You may call me Loosey Goosey."

Booth leaned down and took my hand, stretching it out in between his legs, and then prepared to start an IV on me.

"Don't forget that..." I said.

He glared at me.

"I know your veins roll, woman," he growled with exasperation.

I snorted. "No, I was going to say that my bags are all still in the back of the truck."

He shook his head.