A/N- This is based on the episode The End in the Beginning.

I don't own anything.

Dream World

Chapter 3

Booth would definitely be furious if he saw the napkin. More so, if it means what she thinks it means. Angela was right; Brennan is a cooler customer than he would be in this matter, no doubt.

She finds her husband behind the bar, listening to Jack Hodgins go on about the murder. She interrupts them to inform him that she has got an errand to run and will be back soon. With a quick kiss to his cheek, she steps out of the club.

On the way back from the Hoover building, Brennan fills him in on everything she found out. It gives him a dull headache. Is there anyone who didn't presume him to be the killer? Did Bren think that way, too? The rest of the drive is covered silently, each in their heads.

"Why are we letting Sweets' band audition? It's a waste of time," she wonders aloud.

"Just give him a chance, baby," he tries to convince her.

They had enough madness going around, without deliberately adding on to it, she thought, but was willing to wait to at least hear the band once. To her surprise, she enjoyed the performance, even if it was unfitting for a nightclub. So, she stayed for another song while Booth went out.

The only words she could make out were Mr. B and trouble, which were enough to make her blood run cold and for fear to settle into her. She follows Wendell outside. She scans him to finds no visible bruises or torn clothes on his body from afar. When he raises his head, she sees a cut on the head but otherwise, he looks okay. The relief that washed over her drained away fast when Detective Saroyan takes him in for questioning.

She is frantically pacing in the club when Caroline arrives and assures her that she will work quickly. Brennan trusts her, so she takes a breath and goes back to work.

It is not easy to fill her husband's shoes, even if for a few hours. It makes her realize his value again, not that she would ever take him for granted. She misses him in every way- business and otherwise.

The first person he searches for when he is back is her. Knowing her, she would be in the club and not at home. She would have thrown herself into work to keep herself from thinking. He is confident that she must have freaked out. The fact that he was in a fight with a gang leader would have done nothing to soothe her nerves. Not every day do they have to deal with cops or the possibility of him beaten up or worse.

It felt like the world was conspiring against him. Everyone chooses this precise moment to talk to him. All of them crowded around him once he entered the club, all speaking over each other. Fisher wants to know who was in worse shape, him or the mob boss. Zack wants to know if the questioning by the police was just as scary for him, forgetting that he was in the army. A few hours in the FBI building was nothing. Sweets wants to thank him for giving the band a chance. Booth was biting his tongue to not shout at all of them to go away and let him find his wife. Finally, seeing the anger on his face, they back off. He sprints to her office.

He stands at the door and watches as she is reviewing some documents, occasionally shaking her head. It makes him chuckle. Distracted by the sound, she looks up to notice him standing in front of her, smiling. One look at him makes her feel her breath come easier. They hold on to each other for what seems like an hour. He knows she needs to reassure herself of his well-being in her own way.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" she asks, inspecting the wound near his eyebrow.

"No, but my back is paining," he tells her honestly. He had learned long ago that hiding things and lying to her never turned out well.

She studies his face, looking for any other sign of discomfort. When she doesn't find any, she pulls away, only to take his hand and make him sit on the chair behind the desk. She's trying to get the situation in as much control as she can, which is not much, considering everything. He lets her do what she needs to. She gets a first aid box, sits on the desk in front of him, and starts cleaning the gash.

"Bren," he places his hands on her thighs.

"Look at me," he stands up and tilts her chip up to him.

"You need to get home and rest."

"I'm okay," he tries to comfort her, running his hands up and down her arms.

"Booth, you need to-"

"I'm okay," he insists.

"But-"

"Honey, I am fine, I promise. I'll head home soon, okay?" He drops a kiss on her neck and one on her cheek. He walks with her to the bar to get a coffee and then goes to get some rest at their apartment.

So, Vincent found the murder weapon in his equipment, Zack touched it, Wendell spoke to the victim last night, Angela drew a map, marking her office, Daisy told the guy where to hide, now in addition to all this, Sweets had burned her coat. Barely any of this was known by the police. How far were their employees willing to go or had already gone to save the owners? These are thoughts that were in Brennan's mind on her way home later. She was more disturbed that all this would make the love of her life seem guilty to the cops.

Booth had been curious if his wife also thought that he was the killer, like the rest of their world. He found the opening to ask. "So, we having some doubts?"

"Not about anything important," had been her instant response. He realized how anxious he had been for it. Instantly, he felt as if a weight was off his shoulders. The only thing he could do was kiss her, hoping she knew what he would never be able to tell her in words- grateful for the faith she had in him and for her love that she chose to give him every day.