He knew it was stupid. Rationally he knew full well that dreams had nothing to do with reality but it didn't help to quell his anxiety. He'd woken in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, twisted in his comforter, and his sheets fisted in his hands. He didn't remember the whole thing but what little he could was seared into his mind. Her face had been deathly pale, lips bright as blood and eyes wide and panicking. He hadn't even known what was wrong or how to help her, which was probably the worst part.
Once he was awake it had taken him almost a minute to regain his bearings and another ten to calm his heart and his shaking body. His morning routine had been excruciating, everything seemed to take twice as long but he forced himself to stay on task. It was bad enough that he was freaking out because of a dream like some twelve year old girl, he wasn't going to make it worse by doing exactly what he felt like doing and flying over to her apartment and knock in her door. No, he was better than that. He had enough self control over himself to at least wait until his desperation to see her wasn't pouring out of his skin. The last thing he needed was for Bones to know how much he'd let a freaking dream affect him. She thought he was superstitious as it was!
Hours later, as soon as it was socially acceptable (at least in his mind) he knocked (okay pounded) on her door bearing coffee and donuts. The fact that he'd been there when the shop opened probably should've signaled to him that it was still too early but he'd been patient long enough. The whole morning had been ridiculous. Did it usually take that long for the sun to show itself!? He'd made himself wait until the first glimmers of morning light but that was as far as his control would stretch.
An eternity later when she finally opened the door he felt a moment's rush of overwhelming relief, followed closely by embarrassment. Now that he could see her in front of him, the rational part of his brain woke up and informed him that this situation was going to be really awkward. Bones was not a morning person. She did however look adorable with her hair a mess and her face puffy with sleep, that and the fact that she was in sweats and a tank top. (focus!) Her face clearly said she wasn't thrilled with his visit, donuts or not. She moved to the side, letting him into her home and helping herself to coffee.
"This had better be good." He grimaced internally because the truth was he had no reason to be here, let alone a good one. He hadn't thought of anything to say in his rush over either. He looked up to find her staring at him, concerned by his silence. She set down her coffee and closed the distance between them. "Booth, what happened?"
"Nothing. Nothing happened Bones. Can't I just visit my partner?" He plastered on his best I'm-completely-innocent smile but it did nothing to dissuade her.
"You just wanted to visit." She repeated his words but squinted at him suspiciously. "Booth it's barely 5 o'clock in the morning."
"Yeah well I was bored." Brilliant.
"And I was sleeping." She didn't look thrilled but he could tell she wasn't angry, just curious. Okay. Truth time. He let out a breath and sat on her couch, patting the cushion beside him. The worry lines on her forehead grew more pronounced but she sank in beside him. "Booth are you sure nothing's wrong? Is it Hank? Or Parker, is Parker all right?"
"Bones they're both fine. If Parker were hurt do you really think I'd be here with coffee and donuts?" She obviously relaxed slightly at that before turning on him with renewed curiosity.
"Then why are you here?" This was humiliating. He felt the flush crawl up his neck, settling on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He spoke his next words as quickly as possible and avoided her eyes.
"I had a nightmare." Great. Now he sounded like a ten year old.
"A nightmare." He looked up to find her forehead wrinkled in confusion but thankfully she wasn't laughing him out of the apartment. "What was it about?"
"You." She raised her eyebrows. "Something happened to you; I couldn't help, couldn't stop it."
"And you came over because you thought it was real?"
"Yes- well no. I know it was just a dream but I couldn't relax. I wasn't going to be able to sleep until I saw that you were okay."
"So you were scared." He searched her face, trying to guess where she was heading.
"Yeah Bones, I was scared." She nodded her head, surprising him with her quick acceptance. "What you don't think I'm some kind of freak for running over here at 5am because of a dream?" He laughed but it sounded uncomfortable and vulnerable. She studied him for a long moment and he wasn't sure he wanted to know what she found there in his face. The moment stretched unbearable before she seemed to finally make a decision. Without a word she moved to the other end of the couch against the armrest and looked at him, determined but a little shy. She patted her lap and looked him defiantly in the eyes.
"Come over here."
"What?" He was thoroughly confused.
"Lie down and put your head on my lap. It's what my mom used to do for me when I was a kid and had nightmares." He was struck speechless for a second, sure he heard her wrong and embarrassed by how strongly he wanted to do just that.
"Thanks Bones that's really sweet, but you don't have to." Uncertainty flashed a second before determination settled into her features, if he hadn't known her so well he might've missed it altogether. He hated when she had that look, especially when he caused it.
"I do have to. I promised Hank that I would hold you if you needed it. I think this qualifies." Of all the things he thought were going to come out of her mouth his grandfather wasn't anywhere on the list.
"You promised him you'd hold me? You're gonna have to explain that one."
"I will, if you'll get over here and let me keep my promise first." As awkward as he felt lying down across his partner, he was more curious to see just what the hell was involved in this promise of hers and whether or not he'd be thanking Pops or killing him. He lay on his side facing away from the couch and definitely not looking Bones in the eyes. He fought to keep his arms at his side when all he wanted to do was put his hands on her thigh next to his head. As soon as he was settled she let her right arm fall on his shoulder, hand casually dangling over the edge of his body.
"I dream about you too sometimes. Usually you're getting shot, sometimes the Gravedigger has you and I'm watching you run out of air but I can't find you." She paused and he stayed silent and still, afraid that one move could break the moment. "When I wake up it's hard to remember where I am sometimes and I usually can't fall back to sleep."
"So what do you do?" Because she obviously didn't storm into his apartment at the crack of dawn.
"Write, go to the lab, clean; depends on my mood I guess."
"You mean I could've just done the dishes instead of barging in on my partner? Now you tell me." She laughed softly.
"You're more⦠visceral than I am Booth. I can understand why you felt like you had to come over."
"You're not angry?"
"No. It's nice to know I'm not the only one with creepy killer dreams about my partner." She began to rub her thumb in circles on his arm so absently that he wondered if she realized she was doing it. She ran her left hand lightly over the tips of his hair, playing with it for a few minutes, adding more pressure until she was lightly scratching his scalp with her nails and then starting the cycle again. He was incredibly grateful that he wasn't facing her when his eyes began to prick slightly; his manhood was already seriously in question. There was nothing sexual about the way she was touching him but as he sank into her and felt himself drifting off to sleep, he'd never felt more connected to anyone in his life. Here, with her, it felt like home.
