Nightmares
Disclaimer: I do not own Bones
Spoiler: Season 3 season finale
Summary: When the nightmares after Booth's shooting become too much, Bone's copes in one of the only ways she remembers how.
XxX
"Seely! I'm doing this for us!"
She didn't register the sound of the gunshot. Not at first. Not until she saw him standing there, shuffling a step back. He was directly in front of her, she noticed. He had saved her. Running down the stairs, she tried to grab him before she fell, but he crumpled too fast. She fell at his side, a hand on his shoulder, and that's when she saw her, still pointing the gun, surprise painted across her face.
Without reacting, she grabbed the gun at his side and brought it up fast, shooting her point blank, an easy kill. But she didn't watch. She couldn't, she had to pay attention to him. Bending back over him, her hands pressed against his wound, his blood seeping through her palms and her fingers, she could see the life fading from his eyes.
She could vaguely hear the screams around her, Hodgins yelling for Zack to call 911, but she couldn't bother herself to pay attention to them. He needed her, not them. "Booth you're going to be fine," she whispered, breathless. Panic gripped at her heart and she could feel the tears pressing against her eyes. But she couldn't cry, she had to show him she was strong. "I'm right here. You can do this. You're going to be fine. Come on, Booth. Come on. No…"
"NO!" she yelled as his eyes closed, shutting him off from her. No! He couldn't leave her! Not like everyone else did. He was the one person she had begun to think wouldn't do that, she wouldn't let him leave. She couldn't lose him!
She couldn't see anymore. The world around her was bathed in a hazy mist, though she could dimly feel the paramedics prying her hands off of his shoulder, baring her from entering the ambulance. She could feel Angela's grip around her, pulling her close, steering her in the direction of the bathroom.
She looked down at her blood soaked hands, which were trembling. Blood, so much blood. His blood. Spilled for her. Her knight in shining FBI standard-issue body armor. Minus the body armor. Oh god. Was he going to do die? He couldn't, could he? The wound wasn't that fatal, was it? Oh god, if there was actually a God, for his sake, let there be a God, she thought. He needs God. Even if the rest of us don't need him, she thought, he needs him. Please let there be a God.
She felt the bile rise in her throat and the salty tears that poured down her face. She was going to be sick, this was too much. Angela's hands held her hair back as the cool sweat poured down the nape of her neck and her face as she retched. She could feel the blackness setting in on her and welcomed it, the cool darkness where no pain existed.
But the blackness didn't come like it was supposed to. Instead she was standing in the lab, and assaulting her vision was a picture of a card with a dressed up Seely Booth, and the words "In Loving Memory" showing boldly and brightly. She didn't want to go to the funeral. She didn't want to face the facts. He was dead, gone. Seeing him…seeing him in the casket…being lowered into the ground. She couldn't face it, wouldn't face it!
But yet there it was, the casket, being lowered slowly into the ground. Her heart clenched with pain and tears pounded against her eyes, desperately trying to free their prison. He was gone…he was really gone…Booth was dead…
"NO!" Temperance shot up in bed with a scream. Panting heavily, her eyes took in room around her. The familiar sights of her bedroom met her eyes. The alarm clock on the bedside table flashed 2:20. It was only a dream, wasn't it? This time it was. A tear tickled her mouth, and that's when she realized she was crying...heavily too. She went to swipe it away, only to find that her hands were trembling too hard to control them enough to make even that simple motion.
Shakily, she pressed herself back against the headboard, curling her knees up into her chest. "It was only a dream, only a dream, only a dream," she murmured to herself, her eyes locked dead ahead of her. If she closed them again, she would see him. A shiver racked through her body and a fresh round of tears poured down her face.
But what if it wasn't a dream? She thought to herself. What if the real dream was him being alive, only pretending to be dead to bring someone out of hiding. A whimper escaped her lips, and her one hand extended to her phone on the bedside table. She picked it up and looked at it. Maybe she could call him, just to hear his voice, to make sure that he was really okay.
But that wouldn't be enough, she knew. She wanted to see him, to make sure he was actually breathing, to touch him to make sure his skin was still warm, not pale and cold and clammy. Her breath caught in her throat again. "Don't think about it, Temperance, don't think about it," she muttered. But her mind wouldn't listen to her, and the images of him, shot, bleeding and dying, rose unbidden before her eyes. She slammed her head down against her knees and rocked harder, her breathing increasing.
Oh how she wished she could run to her parents room and crawl into bed with them like she used to do when she was little!
That's when the thought struck her.
Sitting up abruptly, she bit on a corner of her lip. Could she risk doing that? What would he think? The only other option was to go back to bed, and her mind immediately screamed in protest at the thought. That sealed the deal. Swinging out of her bed, she made her way on shaky feet to her door and grabbed her set of car keys.
As she drove--her body on autopilot, barely realizing where she was going--she had to grip the steering wheel just to keep her hands from shaking. When she finally got there, getting into his house was easy, after all, the key was in the fake rock that wouldn't fool anybody. She opened and closed the door quietly, praying that he was in a deep sleep as she tiptoed into his room.
In the moonlight, she could just make out his form, sprawled across the bed. She could see his chest rising and falling as he snored silently. "Okay, Tempe, you've seen him, now get out!" the logical side of her brain argued. But the other side of her brain wouldn't let her.
Her heart thudding, she tiptoed to the side of the bed, and, seeing that he was really asleep, she lifted the a corner of the covers and slid beneath them as slowly as she could. A sigh escaped her lips once she was completely under, and she pulled the blanket back over her and settled down against the spare pillow. Being here, in such close proximity to him, was enough to instantly calm her, dissuading all of her fears.
She'd just stay here a few minutes, and then leave before he woke up. Yes, that was the plan.
"Bones?"
A plan which was instantly killed as soon as she heard his groggy voice. "Bone's is that you?"
Grimacing, she rolled over to face him. He was propped up on his elbow, watching her warily. She saw his face instantly relax when he realized that it was indeed her and not some stranger in his bed. He tilted his head. "Bones, what're you doing here at…two thirty in the morning?" he blinked, and she could see a smirk tug at his lips. "In my bed?"
Temperance, glad the dark hid her crimson red face, flinched. "Sorry. I should probably…" she made a move to slide out of the bed, but Booth's hand clamped on her wrist. When she looked up at him, he shook his head.
"You can stay," he said. She could hear a slight crack in his voice, but she didn't know what that meant. She wasn't good at reading people. "I was just wondering…"
"I uhm…" she glanced away. "I had a bad dream," she muttered.
She saw him raise his eyebrows out of the corner of her eyes. "So you came here?"
She nodded, and she could hear him chuckle and mutter under his breath, "You sound like Parker." He paused, then looking at her intently he asked, "Why here, Bones?"
The images flashed in front of her vision again, and she had to force herself to look at him, just to make sure that he was really there. "I was remembering when you got shot," she whispered, and she could see the shock race across his face. "But you didn't come back, Booth," she could feel the tears that slid down her cheeks. "You didnt come back like you were supposed to, like you did today." The sobs racked her body and chopped up her next words. "You were…were…dead...and…"
A strong pair of arms—warm, she noticed, not cold and clammy—wrapped themselves around her shoulders. She fell into them easily, her own arms twining around Booth's neck. He cradled her closely, too shocked for a moment to even speak. "Shh, Bones," he murmured into her hear. "I'm right here, okay? I'm fine, you see?" At this, her sobs only increased, as did her hold on his neck. "Temperance, shhh…"
As she cried, he continued to speak to her soothingly, his one hand combing through her hair, his other clamped tightly on her back. His heart wrenched at the sight of her, and he could feel guilt coursing through his body. At his "funeral," when she hadn't cried, and then when he later found out that she had really thought him dead at the time, he had wondered if their relationship meant as much to her as it did to him. If the…deeper bond…he felt was unnoticed or uncared for by him. A small piece of him had hated her for that. Now, he could see that she had only been putting up an act, and he saw what effect his "death" really had on her. He mentally cursed out Sweets for putting her through this.
When she finally quieted down, he held her out away from him. "You okay now, Bones?" he asked, his thumb gently brushing the tears away from her cheeks.
"Yeah," she murmured, smiling at him, abashed. "Thanks, Booth."
"No problem, Bones." Did she really think it would actually be a problem? The fact that she had come to him meant more to him more than she probably ever knew. Twice in one day. "You wanna stay here for the rest of the night?"
He saw her bite her lip, unsure. Her entire body and soul, not to mention her heart, screamed at her to stay, but her brain told her to leave. All this he could see in her eyes.
He wagged his eyebrows at her and offered a smile. "You can make sure the bad guy's don't kidnap me in my sleep." Still, she hesitated. "Please?"
That broke her will. She nodded. "Okay."
A grin broke out across his face. "Thanks." He laid back down, snuggling under the covers. She followed his example, only slower, still unsure. She turned her back to him and inched to the edge of the bed.
Booth rolled on his side to face her. "Hey, Bones?" he called out softly.
"Yeah?"
He paused. "I'm glad you're here."
She rolled over on her side to face him, a move which brought her closer to him. "You are?" He couldn't help but smile at her perplexed gaze.
"Yeah. I uh…I had a nightmare too," he confessed. And he had, which she had woken him up from when she crawled into his bed.
"What about?" she whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"You." He could see that she was confused and he continued. "I didn't stand up fast enough…at the karaoke? And uh…Pam shot you…not me. I…dreamed I was at your funeral." He had to cough to keep his voice steady, and he rolled onto his back, breaking eye contact with her. He had had that dream a lot, since the shooting, and it never ceased to scare him.
He was thoroughly surprised when he felt something press against his shoulder, and he looked down to see Temperance resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. Her entire body was flush against his, and her left hand came to rest on top of his bare chest while her legs were dangerously close to twining with his own. He felt his breath hitch in his chest. "Bones?"
"Logically, this is the best way for our subconscious minds to know that the other one of us is still alive." She explained it as though she were describing a scientific process at the lab, but if he looked hard enough, he could have seen the shine in her eyes that would have told him that this had nothing to do with logic.
But he knew it anyway. "Of course, Bones, logically," he muttered, teasing her. He hesitated a moment before he slid his left arm fully under her head and brought it to rest across her waist, his hand brushing her abdomen. Another wave of surprise hit him as she snuggled closer to his touch. Glancing down, he could see that, that quickly, she had fallen asleep, her lips curled into a happy, peaceful smile.
A smile danced on his own lips. "Oh, Bones," he murmured. He turned his head and brushed a light, lingering kiss against her temple before resting his cheek against her hair and closing his eyes, breathing in her scent deeply.
A part of him found it ironic that they had both had nightmares about that same night, but with completely different yet insanely similar outcomes. A part of him found it unbelievable that she had turned towards him in her moment of weakness and fear. A part of him felt touched that she had done just that. But an even larger part of him wondered if he had actually died, because this, right here, holding his Bones in his arms in his bed, felt like heaven.
And although she didn't believe in God, that's just what it felt like to Temperance too.
xXx
Note: The setting for this was the night after Booth's "funeral" and when she broke in (I believe they were the same day). It does not follow the plot line from there, as it would not really fit in. This is a one-shot.
Hey guy's, that's right I'm BACK! Okay, only for this story...so far at least. I dunno, I've just felt like writing a fanfic for Bones for a while now, and this idea came to me today. I couldnt exactly write it how I saw it in my head though, but I hope you got the picture. Please, let me know what you thought! The ending was kinda cheesy and my style switched a lot, I know. I'm a little out of practice, huh?
Thanks for reading!
-Aria