Her eyes snap open and she is instantly awake. She doesn't know what woke her up but she does know that now she is awake she won't be able to go back to sleep. She tries to get out of bed but a pair of arms around her waist prevent her from doing so. Turing over she is surprised to see Booth staring at her.
"Good morning Tempe." He gives her a toe curling kiss and she realizes this must be a dream because she's not freaking out about being in bed with her partner.
"Good morning to you too Seely." Her dreamself murmurs sexily. The two share a few more kisses and look like they are about to move on to more intimate things (and she is somehow both excited and jealous) when the door bursts open and a streak of blue crashes into the bed.
"Daddy, daddy! There's someone at the door for you." The little girl's hair is somewhere between auburn and dark brown and her blue eyes are glittering with barely contained excitement.
"Helen, what have mommy and I told you about our room?" The girl, Helen, pouts, "to not come in when the door's shut. But the lady at the door said it was important." She blinks as she realized this girl must be hers a Booth's daughter. Her dreamself's mothering side kicks in, "and what have we told you about opening the front door?"
"To not do it unless I know who it is ," she says. "But I can't reach the eye-hole without daddy's help and the lady said she knew daddy." Both she and Booth freeze. "What does she look like sweetie?" she asks. Helen scrunches up her face in concentration and she can't help but smile slightly at her daughter's antics.
"She's very tall and thin, her hair looks like that honey moma puts in my milk and it's really long. Her eyes are the same color as mine and moma's too." the girl pauses to take a breath and wrinkle her nose, "she also smells kinda funny and looks like a ghost with bright red lips." Finished the girl flops back onto the bed and stares at the ceiling. She and Booth look at each other and breath a small sigh of relief as they realize it's not Pam Nunan.
Less than a week ago she'd been terrified at the thought that Booth might not survive being shot by Pam. She remembers the doctor explaining that if they didn't operate Booth might die of lead poisoning but if they did operate removing the bullet might cause the lung to collapse. And she remembers being surrounded by her family and friends as she told the doctor to go ahead with the operation. Three hours later the doctor had returned with a smile on his face and told them that the surgery had been a success.
"Tempe," Booth's voice snaps her back into the present. She looks at him and shakes her head at the question in his eyes. He slips out of bed, his pajama pants riding low on his hips, she appreciates the view, even though she's pretty sure he was naked a few minutes ago. She slips out of bed as well (she's suddenly clothed too) and follows him into the living room.
The front door is wide open and there is a stunningly beautiful woman standing in the middle of their living room. Glancing at Booth she see that he's frozen in place, his mouth hanging open (almost like he's seen a ghost). She tries to snap him out of it but she finds that she cannot move.
The woman moves towards Booth. She stops when she is standing right in front of him, she leans in and begins kissing him.
She watches horrified as wrinkles begin to form on his face and his muscles begin to atrophy (like he'd been standing there for years and not seconds). There's a whimper behind her and she realizes their daughter must be there, she wants to turn and tell her not to watch but she can't. She's frozen, stuck watching her husband turn into dust and bones.
Booth's bones clatter into an abnormally neat pile at the woman's feet and she winces at the sound. The woman then turns towards her and opens her mouth like she is about to speak, but before she can Temperance Brennan wakes up.
Her heart is pounding in her chest and she takes a few calming breaths before she lets herself get out of bed. She checks the clock as she does so and turns off the alarm, she knows she's won't be able to go back to sleep after that nightmare.
She pads into the kitchen and makes herself a pot of black tea. She turns to her calendar and stares blankly at the small red circle on today's square.
Booth's funeral is today. Irrational anger floods her and she throws her mug against the wall. It shatters and falls to the floor, the tea in it leaves a pale brown splotch on the wall that slowly drips down to the floor to join the remnants of the mug.
Anger still seethes within her. It is something she's not used to. Anger at Booth for taking a bullet for her, anger at herself for not being able to save him.
Survivor's Guilt, but that doesn't really sum what's she's feeling up.
She storms over to her computer and begins typing. At first it's just angry vitriol, but then her nightmare-dream comes out (if she ever sees Dr. Wyatt again, she might even ask him about it). Eventually an idea forms and she begins writing, it has nothing to do with her current novel but it will make an interesting side project.
The phone rings startling her.
"Hello."
"Dr. Brennan, I was wondering if you'd be coming into work today." It's Cam and she doesn't sound happy. Looking at the clock she can see why, it's almost eleven and she's two hours late. "Yeah, I'll be in." "Then I should be seeing you soon." Cam hangs up and she listens to the buzzing dial tone for a few seconds before she too hangs up.
She showers, dresses, eats, and drives to the Jeffersonian on autopilot.
When she gets there she throws herself into her work and doesn't think about Booth or his funeral.
Her friends keep insisting she go.
And she keeps refusing.