Insomnia
Brennan awoke to find herself cocooned in the bed covers, and a bit too warm for comfort. Rolling over to untangle the tangled Egyptian cotton, she felt a cool empty space where Booth's admirably muscular body should have been. She glanced at the bedside clock: 4:47 am. Donning a pale blue silk robe, she tied the belt as she left the bedroom. Descending the stairs, she spied him sitting on the couch, head bowed, shoulders hunched in a cramped posture which would surely spell sharp discomfort for his back in the morning. The television droned softly, tuned to ZNN. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and hugged him from behind, kneading the tense knots she felt there.
"You can't sleep, Booth? What's wrong?"
Swiping his face with the back of his hand, he turned and looked up at her.
"I made some close friends in Ankara and Adana, members of the Türk Kara Kuvvetleri, when we ran some joint operations out of Incirlik. Can't help thinking about them; God only knows what'll happen to them and their families as a result of this failed coup. Nearly 3,000 people have been arrested. The blowback from these things hurts innocents as well as instigators. Many brave men who don't deserve humiliation may die."
A slight grin crossed his face army in spite of his worry. "I bet you didn't know the Turks claim their army was founded by Modu Chanyu in 209 BC, Bones. The guy was Chinese, but he conquered a huge swath of territory across Asia."
Brennan assumed her 'school marm face' and smiled back. "Modu was a bright child, but his father had chosen another heir to succeed him, and sent Modu to the Yuezhi as a hostage, then attacked them. He assumed Modu would be killed in retribution, but the youth stole a fast horse and escaped back to the Xiongnu. Since Modu was hailed as a hero, his father placed him in command of 10,000 cavalrymen. After testing his men to insure extreme loyalty, Modu ordered them to shoot his father, who died in a hail of arrows. By clever strategy and military strength, Modu Chanya became the sole ruler across the Central Asian steppes."
"Come back to bed and try to sleep, Booth. Perhaps asking your god to protect your friends would ease your mind somewhat."
Booth sighed, "Sadly, I'll probably never know what happened to them. I'm sure Incirlik Air Base, Diyarbakir, Izmir, and Aksaz Naval Base are on level Delta security. The embassy is advising our citizens to shelter in place, avoid the airports, and not come to the U.S. embassy or consulates. The situation is unstable and tenuous."
"World events this year have been very unsettling; Nice, Paris, Brussels, Madrid, Nice, and now this coup," Brennan agreed. "Humans can be very unkind to one another."
"I was most saddened by the destruction of Palmyra, the temples of Baal and Baalshamin; many historic artifacts from several ancient cultures obliterated. I was fortunate to see most of those sites, and the world is culturally poorer for having lost them. It isn't human life, but still distressing anthropologically."
"Come on, Bones, we might as well make a snack and watch the news. How 'bout Pops's grilled cheese sandwiches? I don't think either of us are going back to sleep any time soon."
"Booth, you had grilled cheese for dinner on Tuesday. Too much cholesterol isn't good for you."
"Okay, I'll use mozzarella cheese; it's made from lowfat skimmed milk—"
"Oh, Booth, you're impossible! But Pops' grilled cheese sandwiches are delicious, definitely comfort food," Brennan relented, resting her head on his shoulder as they walked to the kitchen.