Obviously, "Aliens in a Spaceship" and "Hero in the Hold" were two of the best episodes of Bones out there. This has been done eight million times before, of course, but here's my version "what happened after." I read a couple of fics where it was insinuated that Booth didn't stay with Brennan that night after she was rescued from the Gravedigger, and I'm sorry, but there is no universe in existence where Booth would leave Brennan alone after that. Just as I believe that Brennan wouldn't leave Booth alone after she rescued him, either. So this is the result.
I have to admit, writing this after the whole series ended—and thus knowing the extent of Brennan's abuse—really pointed the direction of this first chapter. The same could be said for the following part, which is Booth's chapter. Knowing about his past really changed the tone of this story.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. The story title comes from the song "I Will Follow You into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie and chapter titles come from the song "Dust to Dust" by The Civil Wars.
Brennan had been rescued for all of an hour before she was arguing with Booth.
She had agreed to go to the hospital to get checked out, even though she knew she didn't really need it. She was a bit dehydrated, and she had a few scrapes and cuts from crawling through all that dirt… not to mention the burns on the back of her neck. But the paramedics had already hooked her up to some fluids and had cleaned her small abrasions, had bandaged the burns on the back of her neck while she had been at the scene of the crime.
In the end, it was the look of concern on Booth's face that made her agree. Plus, Hodgins was going anyway, and it would be easier to find out how he was doing if she was there. Angela needed her, too—her best friend had been in tears since she and Hodgins had been rescued, and had basically ordered Brennan to the hospital so she could keep an eye on both of them in one place.
Once Brennan was done receiving her fluids and had gotten the news that Hodgins would be just fine, given that they were almost done treating him, she had gotten antsy. She was still wearing her dirt-covered clothes, and all she wanted to do was go home, take a hot shower, and then maybe sleep for two or three days straight.
She wasn't used to the bone-weary exhaustion that was plaguing her, and that alone was enough to throw her off. Brennan didn't even want to think about what she had just endured, or how she felt about it all.
As the doctor was removing the IV, Brennan asked, "Is there any other reason for me to remain in the hospital? Because I'd like to go home."
Before the doctor could say anything, Booth said, "Of course you need to stay in the hospital. You spent over twelve hours buried alive." He had refused to leave her bedside in the ER once they had arrived, and had taken up his position next to the head of her bed. The hospital staff had been too intimidated by the fierce look permanently affixed to his face to say anything to him, and Brennan truthfully hadn't wanted to be alone… so she hadn't protested Booth's presence, either.
They had already argued about it twice before in the last ten minutes alone. Neither of them were budging. It was almost easier to give in to Booth at this point just to get some sleep, but Brennan didn't want to due to sheer force of will.
Brennan was on edge, though, and understandably so. She sent a dry look Booth's way, hoping that he couldn't see just how close to unraveling she was. "I am uninjured, Booth, and am no longer dehydrated. I have no reason to remain in the hospital."
"She's right," the doctor added, before Booth could cut in once again. "There's no reason for Dr. Brennan to stay overnight. Though…" Seeing the look on Booth's face grow even darker, the doctor diplomatically added, "I would feel better about releasing you if you had someone to stay with you tonight."
"That's not necessary," Brennan stated immediately. She was oblivious sometimes, but even she knew what the doctor was getting at with that particular statement. If she got it, then Booth most certainly had as well.
"I'll stay with her," Booth said resolutely. The tone of his voice and the look in his eyes brokered no argument; still, Brennan wasn't stupid. She seriously doubted that Booth wanted to spend the night with her, keeping an eye on her while she recovered. She was certain that he had other, better things to do than watch over her.
Especially given that her recovery would likely take a lot longer than twenty-four hours.
Of course, Brennan opened her mouth, ready to argue, but her voice choked off abruptly when Booth took both of her hands in his own and squeezed. His eyes… those eyes that had so often gotten her attention in the past… were earnest and pleading as they bore into her own.
"Please, Bones," he murmured. His thumbs stroked over her knuckles, grazing gently against a scrape. "Please, let me stay with you."
Brennan thought back to how she felt when Booth refused to leave her bedside while she was getting treated. The last thing she wanted was to be alone, but she didn't think she'd be able to articulate that out loud. Gazing into Booth's eyes, she realized that he needed this as much as she did.
She didn't know if it was misdirected guilt over the fact that Brennan had been captured in the first place, or if Booth really wanted to be with her that first night after such a traumatic experience. Brennan knew that Booth cared for her, of course—they were friends and partners, after all. The earnestness in Booth's eyes seemed to go beyond that, however, and Brennan found that she really didn't want to question it that much.
"Okay," she whispered.
Five minutes later, Angela was next to her bed, saying goodbye to Brennan as she gathered her things up. Angela was going to remain at the hospital with Hodgins and Zack. Cam was there as well, and when Brennan looked up, she saw that Booth was talking to her boss, leaning in close to her. Booth's back was to Brennan, but she could clearly see Cam's face. Cam was wearing a look of resigned understanding, and she didn't seem all that thrilled with Booth.
Booth didn't seem to notice, though. His mind was still mostly on the fact that he had dug Brennan out of the dirt with his bare hands earlier that day. Booth had been so close to losing Brennan… shaking his head, Booth pushed those thoughts away. He squeezed Cam's shoulder and turned back around, calling out to Brennan. "Bones, you better be ready, because we leave in two minutes!"
Angela had seen the exchange as well, and Brennan glanced at her best friend with a raised eyebrow. Angela pressed her lips together and shook her head slightly, indicating that now was not the time for that particular conversation.
Well. A sinking feeling developed in the pit of Brennan's stomach, and she thought back to the letter she had written Booth. That crinkled, dirty piece of paper was tucked into the front pocket of her jeans, and Brennan reached down to touch it. Briefly, Brennan wondered if she should throw it out. She and Hodgins had been saved in the end, so it's not like anyone needed to see what would have been their last words.
Everything had changed now, though. No matter what was happening, she at least had those words. It was the whole reason that Brennan had written the letter in the first place. They were true, and she knew that deep down. Watching Booth now, as he looked up at her and gave her a half smile, she felt that warmth… that wonderful feeling… spread through her again. It was that feeling that had inspired her to write the words in the first place, despite the terror she had experienced trapped underground, in that car. Without a doubt, Brennan knew that she couldn't throw that letter away.
No matter what happened between her and Booth, she knew she would keep that letter forever. She never wanted to forget the way that Booth made her feel.
They stopped at Booth's apartment so that he could change and pack a bag, and then they went to Brennan's place. Booth had settled in the living room, turning on the television and scrolling through the channels until he found a Phillies game to watch (After Booth had nearly been blown up in her apartment, Brennan had picked up the biggest, newest television she could find. She still hadn't properly set it up yet, and Booth insisted on doing it for her. Brennan kept refusing him just because she thought it was funny). Brennan headed back to her bathroom to take a shower.
It was short, and it wasn't at all like the cleansing shower she had been thinking about while she had been in the hospital. As she stood in the small space, all she could think about was how much she didn't want to be alone. It was difficult, and it seemed as though the walls of the shower were closing in on her. She wasn't used to feeling so trapped, so claustrophobic.
Brennan had always enjoyed her independence, and had never minded being on her own. It was disconcerting to feel like that now. The last time she had feared being alone, she had been fifteen years old, and had just been abandoned by her parents and brother. She had sworn to herself that she would never feel that way again, and she was more than a little perturbed that she was succumbing to those old fears. If she wasn't so completely and totally drained, she would drum up the energy needed to visibly show her annoyance.
So Brennan was in and out of the shower in less than five minutes, and got changed into some comfortable clothing. Booth was still watching the game, looking almost deceptively relaxed as he reclined onto the couch. Brennan could see the line of tension in his shoulders, though, and she found herself asking to go to church with Booth.
In the soft, flickering candlelight of the church, it was a little easier to distance herself from what had happened that day. Brennan felt a sort of… security in that church, and it was easy for her to see why Booth sought solace there after a particularly difficult case. Brennan thought that she might understand Booth just a little better.
They went and were back with a plan to order takeout an hour and a half later. It was dark, then, and Brennan had hesitated just the slightest bit when they had gone back to her apartment. In her agitation earlier, she hadn't left any lights on. The darkness of her apartment was stifling.
Out of the corner of his eye, Booth saw her pause. He pressed his lips together but didn't say anything as he easily flicked on a lamp. Light flooded the room, and with it, relief over Brennan's face. Her knees suddenly felt like jelly, and she sank onto her couch as all the breath left her body in a whoosh.
Booth was at her side in an instant, sitting close enough to Brennan on the couch that their knees were pressed together. Brennan welcomed Booth's touch, allowing it ground her; it kept her rooted in the present, reminded her that she was safe, at home, with Booth.
Leaning her head back on the couch, Brennan closed her eyes and took a few deep, slow breaths in an effort to calm her suddenly racing heart. She had been trapped in a car before and had survived. She could—and would—do it again.
"Bones…" Booth began, his voice soft.
Still with her eyes closed, Brennan interrupted, "Can we eat?" Eating was the last thing she felt like doing, but she knew that it would be enough of a distraction for Booth. She knew that if she opened her eyes, she would see Booth looking at her with those bottomless brown eyes, so full of warmth and concern. Brennan wasn't sure that she'd be able to handle that at the moment, so she needed that intense focus directed somewhere else.
There was a long pause, and then Brennan felt Booth's fingers brush against the back of her hand. The touch was brief, but his fingers were warm, and his hand fell away an instant later. She felt that warmth sink into her skin, all the way to her bones. "Sure, Bones. Anything you want."
Brennan didn't open her eyes again until she felt Booth get up and leave the couch. Sensing that she needed some space, Booth pulled his cell phone from his pocket and disappeared into the kitchen to order them some Thai food. Once he had rounded the corner, Brennan covered her face with her hands and inhaled deeply, shakily.
It hadn't really hit her, before. What she had survived. What she had been through with Hodgins—what they had all been through on that day. There was only relief as Booth had dragged her from the earth with his bare hands and later, a sort of fog as she had been in the hospital. Being in the church had allowed her to see things through Booth's eyes, giving her something to focus on besides the horrors of the past twenty-four hours.
Now, though… now it really was all over. Brennan was home, it was quiet, and it was like she couldn't stop the memories from rolling over her. The stark darkness of her apartment had it made it all come back in an instant. Brennan was sure it was going to be a very long time before she forgot what it felt like to wake up in that car, buried underground. If she ever did.
She'd been through this before. She would spend the next few hours pushing the ever-increasing feeling of panic down, pretending that she was perfectly alright. Then she would claim that she was tired, and she would go to bed, where she would lay for hours fighting sleep. Eventually, exhaustion would claim her.
Then the nightmares would come.
And Brennan knew that no matter what she said, no matter what assurances she tried to give to Booth, he would insist on staying. That's just the kind of man he was. He'd made it clear at the hospital that he wasn't going to leave her alone, and she was grateful for that. Brennan didn't think she'd ever be able to find the words to tell him that, though. Not for the first time, she hoped that Booth would somehow be able to know what she was thinking, as he so often did. It was one of the things she truly enjoyed about being with him—all they needed to communicate was a look.
With another shuddering breath, Brennan finally pulled her hands away from her face. She had just managed to get a hold of her raging emotions when Booth stepped back into the living room, with one of his usual charm smiles playing around his lips. It didn't quite reach his eyes though, and Brennan knew that he was pretending just as much as she was.
"I ordered enough food for the whole weekend, Bones," Booth told her as he settled onto the couch next to her once again. "And God only knows you're not going to eat all of it. So it's a good thing I'll be here to help you out, right?"
She had already known that he was going to stay the night, and was glad that he had insisted on it so she hadn't ended up begging. If there was one person Brennan wanted with her after such a traumatic event, it was Seeley Booth.
Having him with her for the whole weekend, though? She felt immediate relief at the thought, and that scared her more than anything else. She wanted Booth around, wanted him near her, felt safer with him so close by. In short, she needed him. That terrified Brennan in a way she wasn't used to feeling.
Any time she had ever let herself need someone, they left her.
Yet here Booth was, offering to stay.
Feeling emotion well up within her once again, Brennan swallowed hard and narrowed her eyes. "Booth," she began in that clipped voice she often got when he was annoying her. She protested just because it was expected of her. They both needed that bit of normalcy.
The lines in Booth's face lost some of their tension, and he held up his hand. "Don't even try to fight me, Bones," he told her gamely. "You're stuck with me all weekend. We're going to eat Thai food and properly set up that TV you just bought. Hell, maybe we'll play Monopoly."
"Monopoly?" Brennan's nose wrinkled. "Why would we play Monopoly?"
Shrugging his shoulders, Booth reached for the remote control that Brennan had neatly lined up on the coffee table. She had only gotten as far as plugging the thing in before this whole business with the Grave Digger had started. Booth had helped her pick out the television, insisting the screen was the right size for the space of her living room and the way it was mounted above her fireplace left it at the best angle for viewing. Booth was also the one that told her that the television had very specific settings—at which point, Brennan had gotten fed up with Booth and had demanded that he just come over to set it up for her. When he did try to set it up, Brennan ended up distracting him, and hours later they would end up watching a movie with what Booth insisted was the wrong audio settings.
"It just seems like the kind of game that you would like, Bones," Booth explained as he turned the television on. He went to the menu and started fiddling with color and sound settings. "You know, it takes hours to play and it's all about strategy. It's not like other board games, where there's luck involved."
Shrugging her shoulders, Brennan leaned back against the couch. "I didn't play very many board games as a child," she admitted. She said it casually, as though she wasn't revealing something that was actually kind of… sad.
His mouth falling open, Booth sat up straight and stared at his partner in shock. "You didn't play any board games as a kid? You know, not with your parents, or your brother… or your friends?" He knew that she was fifteen when her parents had abandoned her, and after that, her life had gotten rather difficult. Before that, though… she hadn't known of her parents' secret and hidden past. There was still a chance for her to have somewhat of a normal childhood. He had known that she had preferred to study and liked to learn, but that didn't mean she didn't have any friends. There were plenty of other kids growing up who were like that, and they still had other kids to play with.
Brennan blinked at him, not quite understanding why Booth looked so surprised. "My father was more concerned with teaching me than anything else. That was fun, even if it wasn't in the traditional sense," she stated. "And Russ was always busy. With practice for whatever sport he was playing, or whatever girl he was dating at the time, or whatever party he was going to. The friends I had before… well, before…" Brennan cleared her throat, not needing to explain that she meant before her mother and father and brother had abandoned her. Before she had been judged for being in foster care, tossed from one home to another. Before she had hidden behind learning and science, and got labeled as the "weird death girl." "They were more interested in schooling or reading, like I was."
Booth was watching her, and Brennan was so caught up in her own feelings that she missed the compassion in his eyes. All she saw was pity, and she was tired of the pity. She didn't want people feeling sorry for her, which was why she so rarely talked about her past. Besides Angela, Booth was the one that she had opened up the most to. All those other times, he had never looked as sorry for her as he did now.
Though Brennan supposed the fact that he had helped dig her out of the ground after she and Hodgins had been abducted by a maniac might have had something to do with it.
So Brennan looked away from Booth and added, "Though if my father did play games with me, it was card games. Black Jack, usually."
Booth laughed at that, and he leaned back next to Brennan once again. "Black Jack. Of course you knew how to play Black Jack as a kid, Bones. And I bet you were good at it." Given his history with gambling, Booth knew quite a bit about Black Jack, and card games in general. He could just imagine a younger Brennan being instructed by her father, learning the finer points of the game.
"Of course I was," Brennan told him without hesitation. "As an adolescent, I learned the art of the perfect poker face. I became quite good at it."
Before Booth could respond, there was knock at Brennan's front door. She jumped a little, her eyes darting around anxiously. Booth's hand dropped to her knee for a brief moment, his large palm warm and comforting. He squeezed and smiled gently at her before he stood, his hands falling away.
Brennan reminded herself that it was likely just the food that Booth had ordered. She felt reassured by his touch, but she still kept her eyes trained on him as Booth checked the sidearm he had left by her front door, and then peered through the peephole. Satisfied, Booth nodded his head towards Brennan and shot her a reassuring smile before he opened the door just wide enough to accept the food and pay the delivery guy. By the time the transaction took place, Brennan had managed to relax once again.
She watched as Booth hauled four bags of food into her kitchen. "Wow, Booth. You weren't kidding."
"I never joke about food, Bones," Booth told her solemnly. She could see the twinkle in his eyes, though, and that finally got her to laugh in return.
They ate, though it was mostly Brennan picking at her food. Booth pretended not to notice as he shoveled forkfuls of green curry into his mouth. Every now and then, though, he'd shoot her a pointed look, and she would scoop up a bite of veggie pad Thai. Booth was aware that it was a little underhanded to guilt Brennan into eating, but she needed it.
She had been stuck in a car for over twelve hours, and frankly, she looked like a good, stiff wind would knock her over. He knew that a large part of it was exhaustion, and that she needed to rest. But he also knew that she needed at least a little bit of nourishment in her system—such as takeout was. At this point, takeout was more of a comfort food for them than anything else. If there was anything that Brennan needed right now, it was comfort.
Having been through capture and prolonged captivity himself, Booth knew what was going to come next. And he had high enough security clearance to see quite a bit of Brennan's file, so he also knew that it wouldn't be the first time that she had experienced something like this. It pained him to know that Brennan had experienced that kind of terror, and had to go through it on her own.
Booth would be there this time for her, though. Wild horses couldn't keep him away from Temperance Brennan—especially not when he knew that she needed him. Booth smiled slightly, chuckling inwardly at the thought that Brennan probably wouldn't get the wild horses reference.
So it didn't matter how much Brennan protested, or what anyone else said. Booth knew what it was like to be left alone after something traumatic. It was part of the reason why he had turned to gambling. He was well aware that Temperance Brennan had faced quite a bit of adversity in her life, and he'd be damned if she had to face this latest obstacle on her own.
Brennan was his partner, his friend, his… Booth pushed that last, errant thought away, and briefly pictured the look on Cam's face when he told her that he would be spending the weekend with Brennan. As she had when they were teenagers, Cam had understood him, and hadn't asked questions. Though she had been a little disappointed, they both knew that this thing between them was casual.
Booth figured that a part of him should feel bad about the fact that he was so obviously choosing Brennan over Cam. But the truth was… there had never really been a choice. When Booth thought about seeing that little puff of dirt in that quarry, thought about the way he had wanted to cheer in victory and cry with relief all at the same time, he had known that there was no way he could leave his Bones to fend for herself after what she had been through.
Besides, Booth had already told Cam that Brennan always came first.
After she had cleared almost half of the food on her plate, Brennan pushed it aside and rubbed her palms on her thighs. "It's getting late," she said, even though it was barely past seven-thirty. "I should be getting to bed."
Booth nodded, as though it was perfectly normal for Brennan to suggest that she could go to bed in the middle of the evening. As though she wasn't the woman who he often found working past midnight, and had to drag from the lab in order to get a good night's rest.
"Okay, Bones," he said easily as he reached over towards her plate, scooping up a forkful of her abandoned pad Thai. She managed a small smile as she watched him start to eat her leftovers. For someone who claimed to avoid anything with an abundance of vegetables, he often ate her vegetarian food when she decided she had enough of it. He always made sure that she had leftovers, too, as he was constantly trying to make sure that she as properly feeding herself.
Instead of being annoyed, Brennan found it to be an endearing quality. Sitting on her couch next to Booth, she thought again of the letter that was still tucked into the pocket of her jeans. Even after showering and changing clothes, she had transferred the letter from one pocket to the other, unwilling to part with it for the moment.
Brennan knew that it was ridiculous. She thought of one of the last lines of the letter: "If I ever get out of here, I will find a time and place to tell you that you make my life messy and confusing and unfocused and irrational, and wonderful."
It had been a way for her to quantify the feelings that writing the letter had unexpectedly brought up with her. When Hodgins had suggested writing to someone, there hadn't been any thought as to who her letter would be for. Of course she would write to Booth. She hadn't allowed herself to think very much about the words that spilled from the pen, either. The letter was short, but it said so much.
Brennan wished that she knew what the right time and place would be for Booth to have that letter. She might have been lacking in most social situations, but she knew enough to recognize that this certainly wasn't that time. Feeling on edge right after her twelve-plus hours of capture certainly wasn't an appropriate time to reveal her confused and messy feelings to Booth.
There were more than a few times where she had wondered if they were going to take that next step, though they never had. It wasn't like the very first case they had worked together… Brennan quickly pushed those thoughts away, though.
Plus, there was the fact that he so obviously had something going on with Cam. Brennan had no actual proof yet, but she had seen the way Cam had looked at Booth while they had all been at the hospital. And there had been the look in Angela's eyes, too, like she was ready to explain everything to Brennan and assure her that everything would be fine in the end. Angela was pretty good at reading situations like that, so Brennan would defer to her expertise later.
Well, if Booth wasn't going to talk about it, then neither was she. In the end, Brennan didn't want to cheapen her connection with Booth by trying to make a move on him—physically or emotionally—anyway. Brennan might not have understood people in general, but she did understand Booth. So she would keep her letter to herself, and she would go to bed, and she would hope that when this weekend came to an end, she wouldn't beg Booth to stay with her.
"There are fresh sheets in the linen closet," Brennan told Booth, instead of saying any of the other things that were running through her mind. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to make the guest room up for you, but—"
Booth cut her off, his eyes kind an compassionate. "Bones, seriously, don't worry about it. I'm perfectly capable of putting sheets on a bed."
"Right." Twisting her fingers together, she was unaware that her fidgeting was much more telling of her level of anxiety than anything else. "Well, then… goodnight, Booth."
She didn't want to be alone, but the thought of being around him when she had her inevitable breakdown… Brennan didn't know if she could handle being that raw, that vulnerable with Booth. She pushed away the whisper of the reminder that she already had, and he had already been there for her, steadied her through it, before. This felt… different.
"Bones."
Pausing on her way to her bedroom, Brennan turned and looked at Booth. She couldn't bring herself to say anything, so she just let her eyes speak for her. It was one of her favorite ways to communicate with Booth, since he seemed to always know what she was saying when she looked at him like that.
Booth answered her wordless message with one of his own, his eyes soft and comforting. "If you need anything… I'm right here."
Still unable to say anything, Brennan nodded her head once and finally disappeared into her bedroom. Taking a deep breath, she flicked the lamp on her bedside table on before shutting the door behind her.
She had been through this once before and survived, Brennan reminded herself. She could do it again. The first few nights were always the worst, and then her mind would adapt to what happened, and accept the fact that she had managed to make it through to the other side. She had lived. She was stronger because of what happened.
Tonight, though… it would be horrible. Brennan had to accept that, as well. Her memories of being buried alive with Hodgins would merge with long ago memories of being locked in the trunk of a car because of a cruel foster family. She would be reminded, once again, of the fact that human beings weren't meant to be treated that way. And she would wonder why… why had she been chosen for such a cruel fate, for the second time? If there really was a God, she had to wonder, did He really hate her that much? She didn't even believe in Him, so why was she suddenly thinking the way she had when she was sixteen years old?
Feeling tears burn in her eyes, Brennan sucked in a deep breath and tried to steady herself. She had promised herself, while she had been lying in the dirt next to Booth, while her best friends had pulled a broken Hodgins from the rubble of their traumatic incident, that she wouldn't cry over this. At least not on the first night.
They were alive. Despite all of the odds stacked against them, she and Hodgins had managed to survive. Brennan had quite a bit to be thankful for, and she would not allow her emotions to get the better of her.
No matter what Brennan told herself, though, the tears came anyway. She pressed her hands to her mouth in effort to stifle her sobs, lest Booth should hear her. He had those sniper senses, after all. She wondered if he heard anyway and was trying to give her space, because that was just what Booth did.
Crawling into bed, Brennan drew the covers up and around her shoulders and pressed her face into her pillow. In a move she had perfected over years in the foster care system, she sucked in deep breaths through her nose, letting them out slowly through her mouth. Her tears didn't come as fast, and her heart rate slowed.
With a sigh, Brennan lifted her face from her pillow. She stared at the softly glowing lamp on her nightstand, focusing on the warmth that light provided. On the other side of the wall, she knew her partner was settling into bed as well. That reassured Brennan more than anything else. Knowing that Booth was there, paired with her level of exhaustion, Brennan finally allowed her eyes to close.
It was so dark.
It took Brennan a moment to realize where she was, she was so disoriented. She was back in that car she had spent over twelve hours in, with Hodgins passed out in the back. She had turned the interior lights off in an effort to preserve the battery whenever Hodgins wasn't awake, and the darkness was starting to take a toll.
The terrified, abandoned little girl within Temperance Brennan reminded her that she had been here before. Locked in a dark car, no hope of escape, really no one knowing where she was. At least she wasn't locked in the trunk this time. The extra bit of mobility went a long way in reminding Brennan this situation was different, and that she wasn't that same scared little girl.
She had to forcibly remind herself that there were people who cared about her, now. Brennan had people who would ask questions about where she had disappeared to. Sure, she was with Hodgins, but Hodgins' friends were the same as hers. Zack was her intern and learned from her. From a purely educational standpoint, Zack would want to find Brennan, just so she could continue teaching him.
Brennan and Cam had come to an understanding of sorts over the past few months. Brennan was sure that for the sake of the team, Cam would do everything she could in order to find them as well. Angela, of course, was Brennan's best friend and was very obviously in love with Hodgins. The artist wouldn't rest until they were found, either.
Then there was Booth.
Brennan didn't think she had ever known anyone like Seeley Booth before. Over the past year and a half of their partnership, Brennan had been in the unique position of seeing just what Booth would do for a person he had never even met before. The way he strove for justice for each and every one their victims proved it.
Brennan could also call herself Booth's friend. If Booth went above and beyond for their victims, he went that much further for the people he cared about. Booth would go to the ends of the earth to rescue Brennan and Hodgins. It wasn't faith that Brennan had, it was facts based on evidence. Brennan had seen Booth do it before. She had full confidence that he would do it again.
Despite the severity of the situation, those thoughts were comforting to Brennan. At least until the air around her suddenly changed, pushing tightly in on her body. Brennan realized that she was still trapped in a car, but it had been the car from her childhood—the trunk of which she had been shoved into after accidentally breaking a dish.
It was difficult to breathe, suddenly, and her whole body felt cramped. Her legs were curled up tight to her chest, her arms wrapped around them. There was no space to move, to breathe, to think. Everything was closing in on her, and there was no way out.
Even though she knew she couldn't escape, that didn't stop her from trying anyway. Brennan banged her fists on the top of the closed trunk, screamed herself horse, kicked her legs to try and push up. Against all odds, when it seemed like the trunk might actually be opened from the force of her legs, something horrible happened:
Dirt started to pour in from the cracks.
Even when Brennan stopped kicking, stopped trying to hold the trunk open, dirt was still raining down on her. It came faster and faster, filling the small confines of the trunk so quickly that the dirt had buried Brennan underneath its weight in the space of two shuddered breaths.
And still Brennan screamed, because that was all she could think to do. The dirt was the same that she and Hodgins had escaped through only earlier that day, only now it was covering her face, filling her nose and mouth, choking her—
"Bones!"
Brennan's eyes opened, and it took her a second to realize that she had been holding her breath. She released a shuddering, gasping breath of air as she came to realize several things all at once:
Her clothes were damp with sweat, and the sheets were tangled around her body. She was curled into herself, into as small of a ball as she could get, with her back turned away from her bedroom door. Booth was leaning over her, one knee pressed into the mattress with a hand on her shoulder, from where he had been trying to shake her awake.
His face was creased with worry, his eyes deeply pained and his own chest heaving. Brennan turned, facing her partner more fully as she tried to remind herself of the facts: she was at home, in her bed. Booth was here. She was safe.
"Booth!" Brennan gasped. She reached up to wipe at her face, only then noticing the tears that had streaked down her cheeks. Even as she attempted to wipe them away, more quickly followed. God, Brennan couldn't remember the last time she had felt this out of control.
"Bones." Booth's hand was soothing now, stroking over her shoulder in comforting rotations. Brennan found herself curling closer to him, drawing nearer to the warmth that emanated from him. "I heard… I heard you screaming."
Pressing her lips together, Brennan scrubbed at her face with her hands. Tears still trickled out, and Brennan was past the point of trying to stop them. As a foster child, she had many tricks to stop herself from crying, or to turn the tears off quickly. After the trauma of her experience with Grave Digger, it simply hit too close to home. It was too similar to the past, and it was all just too much.
She didn't want to be this vulnerable, this scared in front of anyone. But if it had to happen… Brennan was glad that Booth was with her.
"I'm sorry," Brennan said, her voice muffled by her hands. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't," Booth assured her quickly. "Bones…" There was a brief hesitation, and then Brennan felt his warm, strong fingers wrap around both of her fists. He tugged gently, and Brennan allowed him to pull her hands away from her face.
There was no point in trying to hide the fact that she was crying. Booth had seen her break down before—after she found out about her mother, and they had met with McVicar came to mind. Booth had already seen her at some pretty low points, and this was no different.
"Talk to me about it," Booth urged gently.
"No." Brennan's response was immediate and final, even with the shakiness of her voice.
"Bones."
"No," Brennan repeated, her voice a bit stronger. If she started talking about her nightmare, then everything about her past would come spilling out. She didn't mind being vulnerable with Booth, because it was inevitable at this point in their relationship. Telling him, in detail, about the abuse she suffered at the hands of her foster families… that was too much. Brennan wasn't ready to reveal that part of herself just yet.
Booth had pushed her in the past, but he knew that doing that now would be the exact wrong thing to do. Instead, he scooted further onto her bed, well aware that he was taking a liberty here and unable to do anything to stop it. Booth had always gravitated towards Brennan, like there was some kind of magnetic force between them. It got even stronger whenever Brennan was upset.
His sleep had been restless. Despite the exhaustion from their day, Booth had been unable to sleep. He was plagued with the fact that Brennan had come entirely too close to dying, buried underground with Hodgins fading in and out. The fact that the two of them had managed to survive awed him, but Booth still couldn't erase the image of pulling Brennan out of the dirt from his mind.
He had barely been asleep when he heard Brennan start screaming, and he had raced into her bedroom to find her in the midst of a horrible nightmare. Being no stranger to those himself, Booth woke her and tried to comfort her in a way that no one really had for him in the past. Wild horses couldn't drag him away from her, and there was no way in hell he was going to let her suffer through this on her own.
That wasn't what partners were supposed to do. Hell, that wasn't what friends were supposed to do.
Brennan sat up slowly, turning to face Booth on her bed. Another tear rolled down her cheek, and Brennan didn't bother to wipe it away. The nightmare had shaken her, it was late, and she was just… she was so tired. For once in her life, Brennan didn't want to hold it together, didn't want to pretend like she could compartmentalize these difficult feelings.
"I… I can't… breathe," Brennan finally admitted quietly, in between quick little pants. She knew it was a result of her anxiety, and she also knew that there were several breathing techniques that she could try in order to calm down. The more she tried to calm down, though, the more her breath caught in her throat. Her chest was too tight, and each breath she took felt like a sharp pang in her lungs.
Booth's brow furrowed, and he watched for a moment, taking in all the signs of her distress. Brennan pushed her hair back from her face, trying her best to ignore the ever-present feeling that the walls were closing in around her.
Finally, Booth grasped Brennan's hand and pulled it to his chest. He placed her palm over his heart, holding it there. He paused for a moment, making sure that she was okay with the rather intimate contact between them. True to form, even in the midst of her panic attack, Brennan shot him the confused look that she so often bestowed upon him.
"Booth, what are you doing?" she whispered, her voice breathy and a little too high.
"Do you trust me, Bones?" Booth asked.
She answered without hesitation. "Of course."
Taking his free hand, he uncurled his fingers and reached towards Brennan, moving slowly. She didn't try to draw away from him, didn't pull her hand from his chest. Carefully, Booth pressed his own palm over Brennan's heart.
"Breathe with me," Booth ordered gently.
He kept eye contact with her, and her hand on his chest created a rhythm for Brennan's breath to follow. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Deep, easy, and slow.
Eventually, Brennan's heart rate slowed, and she felt less dizzy, slightly more in control of herself. Despite her best efforts, tears were still escaping, one or two trickling down her cheeks every few minutes. Brennan stopped trying to wipe them away and instead turned her focus on watching the steady rise and fall of Booth's broad, strong chest.
Seeing that Brennan was no longer on the verge of hyperventilating, Booth slowly let his hand fall away from her chest. When she made to pull her hand back though, Booth held fast. He kept her palm pressed over his heart, relishing in the feel of her warmth sinking through his t-shirt, into his skin.
Booth couldn't explain it. He just knew that he couldn't bear the thought of Brennan putting space between them. As it had at least one hundred different times since they had arrived at the wide, expansive field of dirt, he thought about how he could have lost her. That thought made him want to throw up, made him want to hit something, to scream, to cry. Even though she had been in life-threatening situations before, it had been entirely too close this time.
Brennan didn't try to move away from Booth again. Instead, she curled her fingers into his shirt and tipped forward, until her head was resting against his shoulder. She closed her eyes, soaking in Booth's warmth, his solid presence.
Shifting on the bed, Booth turned his body until he was sitting directly next to Brennan, and she could lean more fully against him. He rested his back against the headboard and wrapped his arm around Brennan's shoulders, while he kept her hand against his heart.
Seconds, minutes, hours passed by. Booth and Brennan were silent, lying wrapped up in one another's arms on her bed. The night grew darker, deeper, and their exhaustion grew as well, but neither of them moved to turn off the light.
Finally, Brennan shifted the tiniest bit. She rolled her head against Booth's shoulder, peering up at him with heartbroken, wary eyes. "Booth…"
Booth's fingers tightened around the hand Brennan held over his heart. "Shhh, Bones," he murmured. "Let's just…"
Brennan studied Booth for nearly a full minute, her blue eyes bright. Booth felt like she could see to the very soul of him, and if she asked anything of him in that moment, he would give it to her.
Instead, Brennan simply nodded her head and slid further down the bed. She pushed the covers back and scooted over enough for Booth to have space to lie down next to her. He watched her for a moment, soaking in the sight of her curled up in the bed, looking up at him with those eyes.
Vaguely, in the back of his mind, Booth knew that he was way in over his head. Things were about to get real interesting, but Booth knew he could deal with that later. For now, he would take this night and this weekend and just celebrate the fact that she was alive and here with him.
Booth lay down next to Brennan and pulled the blankets up and over both of them. Brennan's hand stayed on his chest, over his heart. Booth's hand held her there, and she felt anchored by him… safe.
Brennan closed her eyes.
When they woke up, neither Booth or Brennan brought up the fact that they had been wrapped up in each other's arms. They had simply watched one another for a long moment before climbing out of bed. Given that Brennan had no food in her apartment, Booth offered to go and pick up coffee and breakfast.
The look on Brennan's face must have been very telling, because Booth had quietly asked if she wanted to come with him. So Brennan got changed and had climbed into the car with Booth. When they had stopped at the grocery store, Brennan had stayed in the car. He was gone for twenty minutes, and when he came back, he handed her a large cup full of coffee. She sipped from it gratefully and didn't make a comment when Booth stopped at his own apartment next.
He was gone for less than ten minutes then, and had reappeared with a large, army green duffle bag.
"Extra clothes," he explained with a small smile. "And some movies. I've finally got you for a whole weekend, and we have some pop culture education to catch up on."
Brennan groaned, unsure of what movies Booth would consider in her "education." Booth chuckled at the pouty look on her face and assured her that she would enjoy all of the movies—and the excessive amount of popcorn that he was going to make.
They headed right back to Brennan's apartment, and some of the tension left her body immediately. She sat on the couch, leaning back on the cushions as she closed her eyes. Booth watched her for a moment before he brought all of the groceries into the kitchen. Correctly guessing that their little outing took a bit more out of Brennan than she expected, Booth decided to give her some space. After putting the groceries away—and thinking that he's spent more time in Brennan's kitchen lately than in his own—Booth got started on breakfast.
Brennan drifted in and out of sleep for the next half an hour. She never let herself truly fall asleep, unwilling to face what might be in her nightmares. She focused more on the sounds of Booth moving around in her kitchen, and then the delicious smells coming out of it.
"Breakfast is ready, Bones!" Booth called from the kitchen.
Sitting up, Brennan rubbed her eyes and then accepted the plate that Booth handed her. He had made French toast, piled high with berries and whipped cream and drowning in maple syrup. He'd made bacon for himself and an extra pot of coffee for both of them, and had prepared hers just the way she liked it. Brennan cut into a corner of the thick toast, swiped it through some extra maple syrup, and stuffed the bite into her mouth.
Normally, she wouldn't approve of so much sugar so early in the morning. Given that she hadn't really eaten anything the previous day, though, and the trauma she had gone through, she knew her body needed sustenance. If she had to eat, she was glad it was something like this: sweet and wholly delicious.
"This is excellent, Booth," Brennan complimented as she quickly cut another piece of toast.
Booth watched with a smile as he transferred a whole slice of bacon into his mouth at once. He was glad to see that Brennan was finally eating, and he was even happier that she was eating something he had made for her.
"Breakfast food is kind of my specialty," Booth admitted. "We can do pancakes next, then waffles, and eventually I'll make you my world famous Booth omelet."
"World famous?" Brennan repeated with a small smile.
"Oh yeah. Just ask Parker." Booth scooped up a forkful of whipped cream only and licked it off of the metal tongs. "You've gotta try it with some scrapple, too."
"Scrapple?"
"A Philly specialty. Slice it real thin, cook it on a griddle, and drown it in ketchup."
It was quite amusing to hear Booth get so excited about breakfast foods. His enthusiasm was contagious, and Brennan found herself agreeing to the whole Seeley Booth breakfast experience.
Just when Brennan had managed to clear everything on her plate, Booth clapped his hands together. "So, what's the plan for today, Bones? What are we gonna do?"
Brennan chanced a glance at Booth who was watching her with open, earnest eyes. She was sure that he had better things to do than spend all of Saturday with her, and likely Sunday as well. She hadn't forgotten his words from the night before, when he claimed that she would be stuck with him all weekend. Brennan didn't want him to feel obligated to stay with her out of some misplaced sense of guilt. She knew Booth tended to shoulder the weight of the world, and this would be no different.
"You know…" Brennan took a deep breath. The thought of being on her own made her chest feel tight, but she had to let Booth know that she would be fine. Eventually. "You don't need to give up your whole weekend to stay with me, Booth."
"I'm staying," Booth interrupted before Brennan could continue. He reached over and took her hand, squeezing gently before letting it drop. "I'm staying, Bones."
Reaching for her cup of coffee—that Booth had perfectly prepared for her—Brennan pulled it to her mouth and took a long sip from it. "Okay," she finally said.
After breakfast, Brennan called Angela to check in on both her and Hodgins. Angela admitted that Hodgins had gone right back to the lab, and it had been a few hours before she had been able to talk him into leaving. Angela stated that they had barely gotten any sleep since leaving the hospital. The only time Hodgins had fallen asleep, he had woken a little over an hour later with a nightmare.
"Have you had any nightmares, Bren?" Angela asked. Her focus might have been on Hodgins, but she was worried for her best friend, as well. Angela was truly thankful that Booth had decided to stay with Brennan, because that way she knew that Brennan would be safe and taken care of.
"I—" Angela was her best friend, so naturally she heard the hesitation in Brennan's voice and knew the truth. Still, Brennan cleared her throat and added, "My sleep hasn't been exactly restful."
Angela paused for a long moment before she asked, "Does Booth know, sweetie? About what happened with your foster family and the car—"
"No," Brennan interrupted quickly. "And I'm not going to tell him."
"Bren, maybe you should—"
"No." Instantly regretting the sharpness in her voice, Brennan took a deep breath. "I just… I can't think about that right now. I can't think about that and be able to move on from this at the same time. Booth has already done more than enough, and I can't… I don't want to burden him with that."
"No one expects you to just move on from this, sweetie," Angela told Brennan quietly.
That observation was met with silence on the other end of the line. Brennan pressed her lips together, suddenly feeling near tears. The concern was very obvious in Angela's voice, and Brenna felt bad for burdening her friend even further when she had Hodgins to worry about. Brennan was seriously considering hanging up, which Angela wanted to avoid, so she tried to turn the conversation around quickly.
"Okay, Brennan. Okay," Angela said soothingly. Then she asked, "Can I talk to Booth for a second?"
Brennan found Booth in the kitchen and passed the phone over to him with an arched brow, but he didn't seem all that concerned at whatever Angela might have to say to him. He'd gotten pretty used to her comments over the years, after all.
"Angela?" Booth greeted when he took the phone from Brennan. He listened to her talk for several minutes without saying anything, but he did glance at Brennan more than once. Finally, he quietly said, "Ange, I would never hurt her."
Booth knew that Brennan could hear him—she had barely left the room, after all—but he didn't bother hiding who they were talking about. She heard him say goodbye to Angela, and then he came out of the kitchen, handing Brennan the phone with a soft smile. Brennan smiled at him in return before she said goodbye to Angela as well, and asked her to keep them updated on how Hodgins was doing.
The rest of the day passed quietly. Knowing that Booth was definitely going to be there for the whole weekend, Brennan didn't feel all that stressed when he went for a run. She worked on her latest novel during that time. When he returned, he had showered, made a bowl of popcorn for them to snack on, and then popped in one of the movies that he had brought over.
"What is this?" Brennan asked as she settled onto the couch with her feet tucked underneath her. She dug her hand in the large bowl of popcorn Booth had deposited on the cushion between them.
"A classic, Bones," Booth assured her as he lifted the remote and pressed the "play" button. The title screen for a Disney movie popped up, and Brennan saw that Booth had selected the film Toy Story.
When Brennan arched an eyebrow in Booth's direction, he held his hands out and shot her the charm smile. "It's one of Parker's favorites," he explained. "It's silly, but it's fun, and I thought… it might be nice to watch it."
Brennan watched the first few minutes of the movie, taking in the key plot points: it was about toys that came to life when the child wasn't present. The whole premise of the movie was the toys' role in keeping a child happy, and Brennan understood why Booth had chose this movie. It was an escape, something fun and light for them to enjoy.
"I understand, Booth," Brennan said ten minutes later. Reaching over the bowl, she touched his arm. Booth looked down at where her hand was on his arm before he glanced back up at her, smiling.
Brennan squeezed his arm before returning her attention to the movie. By the end, as ridiculous as the premise was, Brennan had to admit that she had enjoyed the reprieve that the film had provided. Booth had watched her reactions more than he had watched the movie itself. Brennan knew this because every time she tried to sneak a peek at Booth, he was already looking at her.
"Why don't you take a nap?" Booth suggested once Toy Story was over.
"What are you going to do?" Brennan asked instead of actually responding to that.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I brought my laptop. I'll probably check up on some emails from work, get some paperwork done. But you… you need some rest."
Brennan wasn't about to admit it to Booth, but she was feeling a bit tired. There had been a few times during the movie that she had thought she was going to fall asleep, and the only reason she hadn't was because there had been a loud noise in the movie, or because Booth had changed his position on the couch.
"I'll rest," Brennan said after a long moment. "But I won't sleep."
Grinning at her, Booth patted her knee. The fact that she was being argumentative was definitely a good sign, even if it was odd that she was so willing to lay down to take a break. He got up to get his laptop while Brennan flipped to the Discovery channel and laid down on the couch.
With the volume turned up on the television and Booth clacking away at his laptop in the dining room, the noise was enough that Brennan didn't fall into a deep sleep—which meant no nightmares. She did doze for about two hours, and woke feeling marginally more alert than she had that morning.
When her stomach growled, Brennan sat up and stretched. Booth was shuffling around in the kitchen once again, and he appeared a moment later with a couple bottles of water and a plate piled high with sandwiches.
"Hey, sleepyhead," Booth teased. "I figured you might be hungry, so I whipped up my grandfather's famous grilled cheese."
"Oh?" Brennan couldn't remember the last time Booth had offered up information about his own family. She soaked up every bit, as it gave her a way to be closer to Booth. "Grilled cheese?"
"Yeah." Booth sat on the couch next to her and flipped the channel to a baseball game. A fond smile played on his lips. "He made them all the time for me when I was a kid." He nudged the plate towards Brennan, giving her a pointed look. "They're not as good as his, but they're pretty close."
Brennan lifted one of the golden brown triangles from the plate and bit into the cheesy goodness. She let out a moan of approval, and Booth grinned at her.
"All this takeout, and the food you've been cooking?" Brennan asked. "What are you trying to do, Booth?"
"Feed you," Booth stated bluntly. "Someone's gotta look after you, don't they?"
Brennan rolled her eyes, but that didn't stop her from quickly finishing the first quarter of her sandwich. She reached for another and tried to ignore the smug smile on Booth's face.
Three hours later, Booth groaned as Brennan collected another fifty dollars from him. "I knew it!" he complained. "I just knew you'd be good at Monopoly!"
Brennan organized her piles of colorful play money neatly. "It's a game of strategy, Booth. I simply deduced what would be the best way for me to get the most amount of money and own the most property. Which is the objective of the game, is it not?"
And of course it didn't take her very long to come up with that strategy. Booth supposed that's what he got for playing one of the longest, most complicated board games ever with a genius. Although, he knew it was worth it based on the smile she had been wearing since they had started playing the game.
"We're playing Chutes and Ladders next," Booth grumbled. "I'd like to see you strategize a game of chance, Bones."
Ignoring the pout Booth was sporting, Brennan rolled the dice and moved her little silver dog piece across the board. Much to Booth's annoyance, she landed on a community chest space and picked a card that allowed her to collect extra money from the bank.
"How many board games did you bring, Booth?" Brennan asked.
She had been pleasantly surprised when Booth had hefted his duffle bag out of the guest room and produced Monopoly. "Pop culture isn't just movies, Bones," Booth had explained with that charm smile that she tried so hard to ignore. "We have all sorts of things that we can do to bump up your education."
Brennan had heaved an annoyed sigh at Booth's teasing, but had diligently read the rules while Booth had set up the game. Booth had said that since it was the first time Brennan was playing, he would be the banker, and then had given the Scout's honor that he would do it the right way.
"A bunch," Booth admitted. "Basically every one that Parker has ever played." Booth scooped the dice up from the middle of the board and rolled them. He scowled when he landed on yet another one of Brennan's properties, and reluctantly forked over the cash. "You know, he's going to expect you to play with him once he hears that you borrowed his."
Brennan arched an eyebrow at Booth. "Parker plays Monopoly?" He was a bright boy, but she knew that this game was a bit advanced for an almost six year old.
Booth chuckled at that. "No, probably not Monopoly. But he will want to play Candyland with you. And Trouble, definitely."
"What's Trouble?"
"Oh, Bones." Booth grinned at her. "We have so much to teach you."
Brennan's latest nightmare didn't have her waking up with screams. Instead, she woke up when she couldn't breathe because she was sobbing too hard.
Blinking tears out of her eyes, she wiped at her cheeks before she rolled over, burying her face in one of her pillows. Her chest was tight, and she was still half-asleep and unable to keep from sobbing. Brennan hoped that the pillow would muffle the sound of her cries. She didn't need to disrupt Booth's sleep once again. At least one of them should be getting a decent night's sleep.
It was like Booth had a radar for this sort of thing, though. There was a soft knock at her bedroom door before she heard him quietly call, "Bones?"
Holding her breath for a moment, Brennan tried to stop her sobs by sheer force of will alone. "Go away, Booth," she managed after a few moments. Her voice caught on the last word, though, and even more tears filled her eyes.
She should have known that Booth wouldn't listen to her. When did he ever, really? She heard the door swing open with a creak, and Brennan pressed her face further into the pillow. She couldn't seem to stop herself from crying, and she was more than a little frustrated that she was facing yet another night of nightmares.
Like he had the night before, Booth settled in bed next to Brennan. Brennan was instantly comforted by the warmth of his body next to hers, and she slowly began to relax. The tears still wouldn't stop, and in the back of her mind Brennan knew it was her body's response to the stress her body had been under while she had been having her nightmare.
While she understood it, it didn't mean that she liked it. She resolutely turned her face away from Booth and slouched down further on the bed. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her fingers clenching so tightly her knuckles turned white.
"Bones, talk to me," Booth pleaded in that voice Brennan long ago stopped pretending didn't affect her.
Brennan wasn't going to say anything, honestly. She wasn't going to tell Booth that she couldn't stand being in the dark, or that the thought of him leaving made her chest squeeze tightly. She didn't want to talk about the fear she pretended didn't exist when she had been trying to save Hodgins' life, or when she had the completely insane idea to blow them out of the car.
She didn't want to talk about—or even think about—the fact that they very well could have died from that small explosion she had rigged from the airbags. And she certainly didn't want to mention to Booth that she had stopped caring about that fact, because at that point dying had been a better option than being stuck in that car, buried alive, for even a second longer.
When she opened her mouth, Brennan had truly intended not to share any of those riotous feelings with Booth. Instead, what came out was, "Have you ever been trapped somewhere you couldn't breathe?"
She hadn't meant for those words to escape. As always, though, Booth managed to get her to say things she intended to keep to herself. Brennan clamped her lips shut, but she looked up at Booth, pleading with her eyes for him to just let it go.
Booth studied her for a long moment, his eyes dark. Then he said, "Yes."
Brennan blinked at him, completely floored. She had known that Booth had suffered captivity during his time in the army—she had seen the proof of it in his x-rays, after he had been blown up in her kitchen. Brennan didn't know everything he had been through, but she had deduced enough based on what she had seen with his bones.
Brennan didn't like to assume, but she somehow knew that Booth was talking about that captivity. Her heart swelled in her chest, and she felt tears gather in her eyes once again. Booth hadn't said much, but the fact that he had even shared that he had experienced something similar affected Brennan in a way that she couldn't quite describe. He didn't elaborate, but she didn't need him to.
"Booth…" Brennan whispered. She wished that she was as good at expressing herself as Booth was. Then she wouldn't feel like she was at such a loss, wouldn't question what the right response was.
Another tear trickled down her cheek and Booth reached up, wiping it away with a tender swipe of his thumb. With his warm palm cupping her cheek, their eyes locked. Time seemed to stop as they gazed at one another, in the way it did more and more often when they connected like this.
Releasing a sigh, Brennan closed her eyes before she leaned to the side, resting her head on Booth's shoulder. His arm settled around her, pulling her just a bit closer to him. Brennan had just been drifting off to sleep when Booth reached over and turned off her bedside lamp.
Brennan barely noticed, and instead snuggled further into Booth's warm embrace. She didn't have any nightmares for the rest of the weekend.
Okay, this was super fun to right in an angsty sort of way. Yeah, I know, Booth was with Cam during these episodes and yadda yadda, but do any of us honestly think that Booth would look at Brennan after he dug her out of the ground with his bare hands and leave her alone? Yeah, right. And let's be real: Cam always knew that there was something deeper between Booth and Brennan, and it was made very obvious during 2x11. I'd like to think that this was when she started to realize it, though. Cam very gracefully accepted Booth's feelings for Brennan, and that was when I decided to like her.
Sorry for rant, but I just really believe that something like this happened, as opposed to Booth leaving Brennan to deal with the aftermath of the Gravedigger on her own. It really bothers me when people write Booth in an asshole kind of way, because I just don't see him that way. Of course he had his moments, but to be fair, so did Brennan. In the end, the two of them were always there for each other, no matter what. And that's what their partnership was really about, wasn't it? Thanks for reading!