Sweets was supposed to be asleep, but he wasn’t. Every now and then, the bedroom door would creak open and he would keep his eyes closed. He stomach was sick with fear, it drove him mad that John could just loose it and kill him. He never signed up to this, he was just a shrink. He didn’t do anything really, he never asked to put his own life in danger. As the hours ticked by, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to die, if by the time Booth and Brennan got there, it would be to late. Or maybe something had happened to them; John had told him rather happily that he wasn’t receiving...
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