(After 'The Shot in the Dark")

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I don't own Bones.

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Brennan wasn't sick very often, so she didn't take getting sick very well. She had just been released from the hospital after being shot and she found it ridiculous that she now had the flu. "I am quite sure I was exposed to this in the hospital, Booth."

"Maybe, but I guess it doesn't really matter where you picked it up." Replacing the empty tissue box with a full one, Booth set it on the nightstand and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Angela came and got Christine. I don't think it's a good idea to expose her to this stuff." He placed a cool damp cloth on Brennan's forehead and stared in concern at the pale skin and dark shadows under her eyes. "I have some vegetable broth simmering on the stove and I have popsicles it you want one."

Weak, Brennan just stared at her lover and wondered why Booth never seemed to get sick. "I eat a healthy diet, healthier than yours is. I don't eat meat and try not to eat too much sugar and food additives or processed food and yet I'm the one who is sick and you are not. This doesn't really seem to be fair."

Amused, Booth chuckled while glancing at the glass of water on the night stand to make sure it was full. "It's the preservatives. They're going go keep me alive forever." Leaning forward he kissed her then leaned back. "Just close your eyes and sleep. You need the rest."

"You really shouldn't kiss me while I'm contagious." Giving Booth a look of disapproval, Brennan pulled the covers up closer to her neck.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take." Worried about the fever Brennan had, he removed her cool cloth on her forehead and replaced it with another. "If I get sick you can tell me you told me so."

Closing her eyes, Brennan held her hands against a small pillow lying on her stomach under her covers. Coughing when she was still recovering from being shot was unpleasant and she pressed the pillow against her stomach when she felt the urge to cough. "I will too. You can count on it."

After a while, Booth stood up and went into the kitchen to check on the broth he was making. It was a little bland and he chose to add some salt and cayenne pepper to pep it up a little. He hoped she'd actually eat some of it when she woke up. He also hoped her fever would go away soon. If it didn't, he was going to call her doctor.

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Everything seemed a little odd, a little off. Sitting in her office, Brennan heard a lot of noise coming from down the hallway and wondered why. Logging off her PC, she left her office and moved down the hallway towards the platform. There were small tables set up in the hallway and people were standing next to them, talking and drinking what looked like alcoholic beverages. Puzzled, Brennan marched past them towards the stairs leading up to the platform. Noticing that the security card reader was missing on the staircase, she looked around and noticed Wendell standing near the entrance to the Lab. "Wendell the card reader is missing."

"The card reader? I'll get right on that." Wendell moved quickly down the hallway, up the stairs and up onto the platform. "Hey Boss, Bren says you're missing a card reader. Can you tell me which one?"

Turning his gaze upon his wife as she moved up the stairs, Booth shook his head. "We're not missing a card reader as far as I know."

Confused, Brennan arrived on the platform and let her gaze run down the bar taking in the numerous liquor bottles and wine bottles behind the bar on shelves in front of a long mirror and then back to Booth who was holding a bottle of wine in one hand and wineglass in the other. "What is going on? Why is there a bar on this platform and why are you dressed that way?" His light green shirt was short sleeved and he was wearing a dark gray cap.

The look of fear on Brennan's face gave Booth pause. Placing the wine bottle and glass down on top of the bar, he moved around the bar and out in the open area near the tables. Moving closer to his wife, he placed the palm of his hand on her forehead and shook his head. "I told you it might be too soon for you to come back to work, Bren . . . You still have a fever. Maybe you should go home. I can get Daisy to take you home."

Smacking Booth's hand aside, Brennan took a step back. "I was at home . . . this place, where are my examination tables, the computers, my equipment?"

"Bren, I think I need to take you home." Motioning for Wendell to come closer, Booth placed his arm around Brennan's shoulders. "Wendell, call Bill and tell him to get his ass in here. I need to take Bren home. He can help Sweets run the bar until I can get back."

"Will do Boss." Worried, Wendell watched Booth guide Brennan down the stairs and down the hallway towards the entrance. "I didn't think she looked well when she came in earlier."

As they walked down the hallway, Brennan noted the various changes to the Lab and it made her feel anxious, as if the world was playing a trick on her. "What happened to the Lab, Booth? You need to explain what is going on."

His concern growing, Booth tried to remain calm for his wife's sake. He knew she was confused and he didn't want to spook her. "Nothing is wrong, Bren. You're just a little sick right now and you're not seeing things straight. I'm going to get you back home and back into bed. Maybe you'll feel better after you've slept for a while."

"This isn't the Lab, Booth. This isn't my Lab." Brennan had never felt so strange before. This place was starting to look familiar and suddenly she realized why. Her Lab was gone and this Lab, this Lab from Booth's dream was in its place. How could that be? "This is a dream. I'm dreaming your dream."

"My dream?" Her words weren't making any sense. 'My lab', 'your dream' he was worried that her fever was too high and he considered driving her to the hospital, but he knew that Brennan would probably refuse to go in. "It's okay, Bren. I promise, it's okay."

"I don't think it will be, Booth. I don't think it will be. This is impossible. How is it possible for me to dream your dream?"

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Once they were in their apartment, Brennan felt disoriented. "We own a house, Booth. We don't live in an apartment and where is Christine?"

"Christine?" Booth was trying to steer his wife down the hallway to their bedroom, but she was holding back and he definitely didn't want to drag her down the hallway. "Who's Christine?"

Stepping away from Booth, Brennan held up her hand as if to keep Booth away. "Our daughter, our daughter Christine . . . Where's Christine? Booth where is Christine?"

The hysteria was rising in Brennan's voice and Booth was terrified for his wife. "Bren, we don't have any kids . . . Bren, let me take you to the hospital. Something is wrong."

"No!" Placing her hands on the sides of her face, Brennan sank to the floor and leaned against the wall. "No, I don't belong here. This isn't right. I want to go home, Booth. This isn't right."

Afraid that Brennan was having a break with reality, Booth knelt next to his wife and placed his arms around her. "Bren . . . shh . . . Bren, you're just sick. I knew I should have taken you to the hospital . . . Bren, I'll take care of you. I'm here."

Weeping, Brennan rocked her body back and forth and desperately tried to figure out how she could get back home. "I want to go home. I want my baby, Booth. I want Christine . . . I want to go home . . ."

She woke with a start. Sitting up, she called out. "Booth! . . . Booth!" Throwing the covers aside, Brennan moved to the side of her bed. "Booth!" She heard footsteps coming down the hallway and turned to face the doorway. When Booth appeared, she stood and up rushed towards him.

Not sure what was going on, Booth folded his arms around Brennan as she moved her arms around his chest. Her body trembling against his, Booth held her firmly in his embrace. "Hey, are you okay? What's wrong?"

The feel of her lover's arms around her made her calmer and she knew that she was back where she belonged. "Where's Christine, Booth?"

"She's with Angela, Bones. Don't you remember?" He rarely saw Brennan so upset and flustered and he wondered if she was getting sicker. "Why did you call my name? Did you need something? Are you alright?"

With the knowledge that she was no longer in Booth's dream, Brennan's body stopped shaking and she felt in control. "I had a dream . . . I dreamt that I couldn't find Christine . . . You were there, but I couldn't find our daughter."

"Shh, it's okay, Bones." Booth could hear that she was calmer and not as panicked as before. "Bad dreams can upset anyone . . . it's okay . . . Christine is at Angela's house. We can call over there and see if Christine will talk to you . . . Do you want to do that?"

Her world right again, Brennan felt slightly embarrassed. "No . . . no, I'm fine. It was just a dream. I'm fine . . . Would you stay up here with me? I'd like the company."

"Of course, I will." Booth led Brennan back to their bed, waited for her to lie down, removed his shoes and laid down next to her. Clasping her hand, Booth stared at the ceiling. "You go back to sleep. I'm right here. You're not alone . . . I love you, Bones."

Her eyelids heavy, Brennan gave in and closed them. "I love you too, Booth . . . I hate being sick. I really hate it."

Booth rolled on his side and kissed the side of her face. "Yeah, I know. I'm here, Bones. You can count on me to be here when you wake up."

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