Disclaimer: None of this is mine
Spoilers: The Critic in the Cabernet

"Pressure's falling! We're losing him!!

"Charging paddles...everyone, clear!"

"What's going on? What's happening?!"

Whump Whump

Brennen watches in horror as the electrical current courses through Booth's body, causing it to jump slightly on the operating table. Medical alarms are going off in the background, fueling the panic she feels. The doctors don't respond to her questions, waiting to see if Booth will respond to their actions. She tries again.

"Please, somebody, what's happening?"

"No response. Charging again...everyone, clear!

Whump Whump

"Still no response. Charge again. Come on people we're losing him! Everyone, clear!"

Whump Whump

Brennen backs away from the table as the doctors scramble to save Booth. But even to her untrained eye she can see they're failing. Much too soon (or so it seems to her) their actions start slowing, then stop. A detached corner of her mind notes that the alarms are still sounding. The doctors turn to her, one of them stripping off his gloves as he takes a step towards her.

"What are you doing? You can't stop now! Keep working!" She cries, no longer rational or logical although she's not quite sure why.

The one doctor takes another step towards her, reaching out to her but she backs away from his touch. "I'm sorry Dr. Brennen. We did everything we could."

"No...No." Brennen says, shaking her head at him.

"He's gone."

One of the other doctors looks up at the clock. "Time of death..."

"No! Noooo---"

* * *

---oooo!" Brennen sits bolt upright in bed, heart racing, gasping for breath. Slowly her heart-rate and breathing return to normal. The memories of the nightmare remain, made all the worse by the knowledge that it wasn't just a bad dream. She had lived through it, almost six years ago now.

"Wa-aah! Wa-aah!"

Brennen cursed under her breath as she got out of bed and stumbled into the next room. She didn't dream about Booth's death often but when she did she always woke screaming - which, in turn, woke up Christine.

"Shh, shh. Mommy's here. It's okay. You're alright. Here, look, phalanges, dancing phalanges." Brennen said, waving her hands in front of her daughter's face.

Christine stops crying. "Momma I'm too old for the finger game." She said with an exasperated tone only a five year old can muster. She paused for a second. "You were dreaming about Daddy again, weren't you? It's okay, I dream about him sometimes too."

This admission, as well as the matter-of-fact way that Christine said it, shocks Brennen. "That's...irrational. You never met your father, how can you dream about him?"

"But I've seen pictures of him...and you've told me about him. Would you tell me some more about him, Momma? Please?"

"Christine it's late and you have school in the morning."

"Pleeaase?"

"Okay. But only for a couple minutes."

Christine was asleep again in minutes. Brennen went back to bed, wishing it would be that easy for her. Lying there unable to fall asleep, Brennen's mind wanders back through the years.

In the aftermath of Booth's death, Brennen had decided to go ahead with having a child. She wasn't going to use Booth's sample to father the child though. Despite all the good qualities and characteristics the child might inherit from Booth, the brain tumor that had ultimately led to his death might also be genetic. And no logical, rational person could ignore or overlook that. Or so she told herself anyway. But in the end, when it came time to make her choice, she went with Booth's sample anyway, although at the time she wasn't quite sure why.

It wasn't until nine months later, after just giving birth, that she was able to acknowledge the truth. Right there in the delivery room, exhausted from the endless hours of labor, sweat plastering her hair to her forehead the nurses gave her her daughter to hold for the first time. And as she looked down at that impossibly small, infinitely fragile human being who stared back up at her with Booth's eyes, she knew. She loved him. All along she had loved him.

She wept then, clutching to herself the baby that was the only piece of him she had left.

She name her Christine (after her mother, she liked to think Booth would have approved) Booth Brennen. And while she never denied Christine had a father, she also didn't talk about him to her very much. Which seemed to work well enough...until Christine started school - and saw that most kids had a mommy and a daddy.

That's when the questions started. Brennen tried to avoid them at first but Christine was persistent until finally Brennen gave in and did her best to answer them even if, in the process, it meant tearing open all her old wounds.

It was while she was pondering all this that Brennen finally fell back asleep.

* * *

"Noooo!" Brennen bolts upright in bed, heart racing, gasping for breath.

In the darkness a hand reaches out and grasps her arm. Startled at first she relaxes when she recognizes the touch. She allows herself to be pulled back down. A pair of strong arms wrap around her and pull her closer to the body occupying the other half of her bed. One hand reaches up and starts stroking her hair in what's meant to be a comforting gesture.

"Was it the same dream again?"

"Yes."

"But that's all it was - a dream." The hand stroking her hair pauses. "You know that, right?"

"Rationally, yes." Brennen pulls away enough to push up onto her elbow. "But...Booth you nearly died!"

"But I didn't Bones. I'm still here."

Brennen doesn't respond. She just lies back down next to him.

"Although, if you're honest with yourself, if not for that we probably wouldn't be here."

"Here?"

"Yeah, here - us, together, a daughter, soundly sleeping in the next room..."

"Wa-aah! Wa-aah!"

"Well scratch the sound asleep part. No, don't get up." Booth says as Brennen starts to get out of bed. "I'll get her. Go back to sleep. I'll still be here in the morning."

He kisses the top of her head before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He walks across the hall into their daughter's bedroom. Brennen smiles slightly as the crying stops.

Thinking about what Booth said, she closes her eyes and tries to go back to sleep. She was still drifting off when Booth crawls back into bed.