Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.
Booth groaned as the sound of his daughter's wails came over the baby monitor. He opened one eye to glance at the clock: 2:17 a.m.
"Damn … I thought we had her this time." He felt the mattress shift slightly as Brennan untangled herself from his arms.
"I warned you she was likely to do this all night." Brennan rubbed her eyes, swinging her legs off the bed. "Just turn off the monitor and try to sleep — no reason for both of us to be up."
"You know I'm not going to do that."
Brennan shuffled into the nursery, picking up her speed as the pitch of Christine's cries changed. "Shhhh, sweetheart, I'm here. It's OK — I heard you the first time." She stroked the baby's head, and gently began rubbing circles on her chest. "I'm right here, shhhhhhh."
Christine's tiny arms flailed, reaching for Brennan, who, against her better judgment, picked her up to rock her.
"I know you don't remember where we are, but we're home," Brennan soothed, brushing away the tears on her daughter's cheeks. "This is your room — you slept here every night without Mama or Grandpa in the bed next to you. You're fine. You just have to get used to it again."
Christine's sobs stopped for a moment, but she began to whine, curling her fingers tightly around Brennan's shirt.
"I've got you. You're safe, Christine." Brennan placed a soft kiss on the baby's head. "Daddy is in the next room. Trust me — nothing is going to get past your Daddy. It's OK to fall asleep — we're right next door."
Booth smiled, hearing Brennan's rational words over the baby monitor. He climbed out of bed, heading downstairs to grab his solution to the problem.
"Want me to rock you? Let's see if that will put you back to sleep." Brennan walked over to the rocker, sighing as she sat down. "Oh Christine … you are so tired. Will you stay asleep for me?"
A few moments later, Booth appeared in the doorway. "Hey."
"I thought you were asleep."
He shook his head. "Got the solution."
Brennan shot him a quizzical look. "What?"
"I put the pack and play in our bedroom."
"Booth…"
"I know, I know. She needs to learn to sleep on her own. I agree one hundred percent." Booth walked over to Brennan, and leaned to place a kiss on her lips. "However, you and I have got to rest tonight. We need it. Christine needs it."
"So we let the small human win tonight?"
He smiled. "It'll work. She's used to sleeping with someone else in the room."
"And sleeping with someone else in the bed sometimes," Brennan admitted.
"Really?"
She nodded. "Dad couldn't always track down a pack and play for us, and most of the motels didn't offer cribs. She slept with me probably two or three weeks the whole time."
Booth suddenly had the urge to punch Max. "Your father didn't send you off with a pack and play for his own granddaughter?"
"He did." Brennan hesitated. "We had to leave it behind unexpectedly during our second month. It's a long story."
"You had to make a run for it one night and leave everything behind, didn't you?"
She nodded silently, pressing another kiss to Christine's head.
Knowing now wasn't the time to discuss that piece of information, Booth went back to the original subject. "No wonder she won't stay asleep tonight. She's in an unfamiliar room, with an unfamiliar bed, and no one else in the room or in bed with her. It's probably way quieter here than it was in those motels, and way darker in her room than she's used to. That's a lot of changes for anyone. She's scared, Bones. She keeps waking up and nothing is what she's used to."
Brennan sighed, looking down at Christine, who was still sniffling and clinging to her shirt. "I know."
"Let her win tonight. We'll fight this battle the rest of the week."
"Hopefully she'll be OK in a night or two." Brennan stood up. "She adjusts very well."
The two went back to their bedroom, where Brennan sat in bed with Christine until her tiny eyelids finally stayed closed. She placed her in the pack and play by her side of the bed, then laid down next to Booth.
"Thank you," she murmured drowsily into his chest.
"Hmm?"
"I wasn't thinking completely clearly. All those changes are a lot for an infant to deal with …" She sighed. "I just hope there's not many more adjustments."
He stroked her hair gently. "It's OK. There's going to be adjustments. And we're going to get through them just fine."
"You say that so confidently."
"We always get through them. We're finished with the hardest part. We've got our life back together."
"Lives," she corrected. "We've got our lives back together."
"Life," he insisted. "We're sharing it, remember? We've got our life back together. Separation was the hardest part, and adjusting to and dealing with that separation is the next hardest part. But we're adjusting together. We're not alone."
She was quiet for a few moments.
"You OK?"
She nodded into his chest. "Booth?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm so glad I'm not alone."
He smiled, resisting the split second urge he had to let a few tears fall at her honest admission. After a whole life of insisting she could do it alone, she was finally being honest.
"Me too, Bones. Me too."
For anyone wondering why I wrote the sentence, "Christine's tiny arms flailed, reaching for Brennan, who, against her better judgment, picked her up to rock her." — I wrote this because if Brennan really was trying to get Christine to get used to sleeping alone, she'd likely not pick her up (because that only teaches a baby that crying will get her picked up and out of bed!) I don't have kids myself, but I've worked as a nanny — I've had multiple sweet mommas ask me to try to soothe their baby back to sleep by rubbing his/her back/singing/quietly talking to them/etc. instead of picking them up — sounds means, but it does work! (Any mommas out there to back me up?)
Thank you for your kind encouragements to write more. Please let me know what you think about this one. I have general ideas for the rest of the nights in this series, but I do welcome prompts — I could use a little inspiration!
Next up: With a little help from a certain curly-headed squint, Booth gets Brennan buzzed.