A/N: I don't own anything. Well maybe the writing but the characters or songs. Nope not a one.

"DADDY!"

Booth opened his eyes at high alert and stared towards the ceiling for a moment questioning whether he heard a noise or not. His eyes adjusted to the dim light that shone through the cracks of the curtains.

"DADDY!"

He threw the covers off and jumped out of bed. He maneuvered his way through the obstacle course of hallway and doors before he got to Parker's room.

He opened the door and saw Parker sitting up in bed. His blond hair semi-plastered down and up at the same time.

"Shhh," he said as he sat down and rubbed Parker's back. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I had a bad dream."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"No I can't," he started crying harder. "It's too sad."

"Shhh," he said as pulled his son onto his lap and semi cradled him while rocking slightly. "You know sometimes when I have a bad dream; it helps me feel better if I talk about it."

"You have bad dreams too?"

"Yeah," he said with his jaw clenched willing away any memories of those nightmares where he wasn't there to protect his loved ones or if he arrived too late to save them.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before he felt Parker wipe his nose on his sleeve.

"Park, do you need a tissue?"

"Not anymore," he said with a little smile.

Booth couldn't help but smile too.

"I think I can help you with your bad dream if you want," he said reassuringly. "Sometimes a bad dream is just because we're scared of something and if we talk about it, maybe it won't seem so scary."

"Ok."

He sat expectantly for Parker to explain his bad dream.

"Well Scooby Doo and his team were trying to solve a mystery but they couldn't and it made me really sad," he said as he started crying again.



Booth's eyes twinkled as he thanked God that the success of a cartoon crime-fighting dog was the root of the bad dream.

He reached over and grabbed a tissue for his son and hugged him tightly.

"Park, doesn't Scooby Doo always solve the mystery?"

"Uh huh," he nodded.

"Has he ever not solved a mystery?"

"No and that's why it was so sad," he said as he started to cry again.

"Shhh," Booth said as he started rocking them back and forth again as he stroked his son's cow-licked head. "Do you think you woke up before he solved it?"

"Maybe I did," he said as eyes opened wide as his face matched his excitement. He bounced back into bed. "I mean he always solves the mystery so that must be it."

Booth bent over and tucked the boy back into bed and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"Goodnight Parks."

"Goodnight Daddy."

Booth started to turn out his son's doorway when he looked back at the wriggling pile of blankets that were now happily trying to get back to sleep.

"Crisis averted," he sighed under his breath with a smile on his face.

"Scooby Doo," he chuckled to himself as he got back into bed and stared at the ceiling being grateful that he has been able to shield Parker's childhood innocence from the kinds of things that cause his own nightmares.

He noticed the eerie similarity between himself and the cartoon dog. Scooby Doo has solved every case he ever came across but the one in Parker's bad dream. Just like the one case that he hasn't been able to solve involving the Gravedigger; that has resulted in many bad dreams.

A/N: I had some inspiration for this one from my six year old son who did actually have the Scooby Doo nightmare.