I'm emotionally constipated. I haven't given a crap all week.

-Coffee Cup Masen "What?" I exclaimed, pulling the phone away from my ear and looking at it like I hadn't heard Mia right.

"You heard me right," Mia confirmed.

My mouth dropped open.

"They're high...while on the job. How?" I cried, my mind racing.

From what I knew, Booth had never, ever tried drugs.

In fact, he'd been radically against them since one of his high school friends had been a huge pot head that turned into a lover of more hard core drugs once pot no longer hit the spot.

To hear that Booth was high really surprised the crap out of me.

"What are you calling me for?" I asked, trying hard not to sound as bitter as I really was. "Call his wife."

Mia was silent for long moments. "He didn't ask us to call his wife. He asked for Tai to call you. And since we don't have any more information other than that, you're up."

I shook my head. "Call someone else. I'm not doing this."

"They suffered a lot of smoke inhalation tonight, as well as inhalation of the weed, Masen. Booth has a concussion and most likely a couple of bruised ribs. He can't be alone, and he needs to be woken up every hour to make sure he's okay," Mia said with a no bullshit attitude.

I sighed and gritted my teeth.

"Fine," I growled. "Where are y'all?"

"The hospital. Memorial, not ours," she answered quickly.

I was heading to my bedroom before she'd even finished. "Okay. I'll be there in ten minutes."

Once I hung up, I couldn't help but be a little bit ecstatic that he'd asked for me.

He could've asked for anyone, including his wife, but yet he'd requested me.

I, of course, knew his parents and brother's number. I just hadn't used them in so long that I wasn't sure of the welcome I'd get.

Nor did I know if they still were in working order.

Mr. and Mrs. Sims, Booth's mother and stepfather, were great people. Adria Sims was a teacher at the college. Bill Sims was an engineer for the railroad.

They both lived in Kilgore with me, and I ran away every single time I saw them, still, to this day.

If I saw them come into the grocery store, I'd leave.

If they were at the same restaurant with me, I'd find a way to sneak out, much like I had a few days before to Mia.

I was a coward.

I didn't want to see the ugliness there...that hatred aimed all at me.

I was a bad person, and I'd made it so Booth's mom didn't get to see her baby.

And I knew, at least subconsciously, she blamed me for that.

She loved her son like I loved him.

With all my heart and soul.

Slipping my feet into my shoes, I walked out of my bedroom and headed to the front entrance where I'd dropped my keys and bags, as well as my clothes, the moment I'd gotten in last night.

My purse was still in my Jeep, which made it easy to run out into the night towards my Jeep's driver's side door.

It was raining...again.

And the dreary weather matched my mood.

Dismal.

I hadn't been the same, which I'd admit hadn't been all that great to begin with, since I'd realized Booth was now home for good.

I'd prayed for this day.

Prayed that one day he'd come home, safe and sound, and he'd listen to my apology.

He'd hear my words and completely understand.

But I'd never factored in a wife.

Shit.

My drive to the hospital took longer than anticipated due to the flooding from the torrential rain we were receiving, and vaguely I wondered how a fire could happen in the middle of a thunderstorm.

Making a mental note to ask about the likelihood of that, I parked in the parking lot, finding a close parking spot only four from the door, and hurried inside.

I saw Mia almost instantly.

She'd been waiting for me.

"Let's do this," I muttered, drying off my hands with a paper towel that was conveniently at the door's front entrance.

The metal detectors sang as I started through it, and I sighed.

"Shit," I said, handing the security guard my purse.

He took it, looked inside, and then handed it back to me. "You can go."

I nodded and took the purse, following Mia to a door that led to the back of the ER.

She used a code to get in, and pushed the doors open and lead me to the very back of the large nurse's station towards the individual rooms.

I stuttered to a stop when I saw the sheer amount of firefighters in the room, as well as cops and other medical personnel.

They'd practically taken over the ER.

Navy on navy firefighter uniforms as well as the black on black that the police officers wore, were everywhere.

When I finally got my feet to move once again, I followed Mia's white t-shirt into the throng of people and stopped again when I saw Booth on the bed.

He was wearing no shirt and the bottom half of his bunker gear.

He looked like he was sleeping or dead.

And my heart stopped.

My worst nightmare flicked through my head.

It had always been my worst nightmare.

Literally.

I never made it through a bad night without having that nightmare.

The one where I saw him lying dead on a gurney much like this one. Eyes closed. Face pale.

Not breathing.

"You okay?" Tai asked, startling me out of my worst dream.

I looked over at him.

His face was covered in soot like all the others were.

It covered his neck, face and arms.

And he smelled like he'd been camped in a car smoking weed all night.

I smiled at him. A small one, not too big.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I lied.

I wasn't. Not even a little bit.

I'd just now realized what kind of a dumbass I was.

And that wasn't a nice pill to swallow.

I'd committed the biggest mistake of my life, and I was just now realizing that it wouldn't have mattered, my reasoning. It would've happened, him getting hurt, whether he was home or halfway across the world.

Shit.

I started forward, heart in my throat, and didn't know what to do or say.

Should I just take him to his house? Where did he live?

Shit.

I couldn't take him home. I should take him home, but I couldn't.

I couldn't bear to see the life I should have-would have-had.

Booth's lids popped open as if he'd sensed me there, and he stared at me with glazed-over eyes.

He was so high.

I could tell.

A giggle slipped free of my mouth as I looked at him.

His lip kicked up in a semblance of a smile, something that broke my heart as well as healed it all at once.

I hadn't seen him smile at me since the day before he deployed when I was eighteen.

That was a very long time.

I walked up to the side of his bed, not knowing what to say.

'Hi' didn't seem adequate.

But I said it nonetheless.

"Hi," I said.

He grimaced.

"Hey," he replied gruffly.

Even more roughly than was his normal voice.

"You need a ride somewhere?" I tried.

His face turned to me, and he stared at me for long moments.

"Take me to your house," he ordered.

I wasn't taking him to my house.

I couldn't.