Brennan's startled awake by a muffled scream. She sits up abruptly and turns her head, looking into the bedroom. "Parker," she gasps out.

Sensing movement, Booth mumbles something incoherent in his sleep and pulls Brennan closer to him, possessively, protectedly. "Bones," he mutters, burying his face in her hair.

She struggles to separate herself from him and shakes him. "Booth, Parker's screaming."

He immediately sits up and kicks away the sheets. He gets up a little too quickly, stumbling backwards, reaching out to steady himself on the doorjamb. He takes a deep breath and lets it out as he rushes into his son's bedroom. He sits on the edge of Parker's bed and nudges him. "Bub, it's okay. You're safe. Wake up, buddy. Wake up. Just wake up. You're dreaming."

Parker's eyes pop up. He's panting as tears stream down his face. He searches the room, shifting on the mattress, and lets out a loud, drawn-out groan.

"You're okay, Parks." Booth leans over, placing a soft kiss on his son's forehead. He flicks on the light and looks at the teenager.

Parker's beat red, sticky with sweat, his shirt is bunched up, and the sheets are half on the bed and half off, with the half on pushed towards the footboard. His eyes drift to Brennan, who's standing near the door, her arms crossed over her chest, looking concerned but keeping a safe distance. He looks at his dad, his breath returning to normal again, his heart beat slowing down. He closes his eyes and swallows, nibbling on the inside of his bottom lip.

Booth sighs, staring at his son, his mouth twisted into a hesitant smile. "It's okay, bub. It was just a nightmare. You're safe," he whispers.

"I—," Parker starts, his eyes still closed.

"You what, bub?"

"I have to pee."

Booth nods and stands up. He takes his son's hand and helps him sit up.

Parker winces and holds his arm flush against his abdomen, trying to prevent any unnecessary pain from vibrating through his body.

Booth snakes his arm around his son's waist, and with the teenager's assistance, he helps him stand. He grunts and looks at Brennan, feeling her eyes on him. "I'm fine, Bones," he croaks out.

Brennan nods. "Be careful, Booth."

Booth smiles at her. "I am being careful. My back's fine."

Parker pulls away from his dad and sinks into his wheelchair. He fights off a yawn and tilts his head back, letting out a frustrated sigh.

Booth glances at Brennan. "I've got him, Bones. You can go back to bed. You look exhausted."

Brennan shrugs, covering her mouth when a yawn manages to escape, giving herself away. "I'll switch his sheets. He seems to have sweat right through the ones currently on his bed." She retreats into the hallway, heading for the closet. She grabs a clean set of sheets and goes back into Parker's bedroom, which is now empty. She pulls the sweat soaked sheets off and replaces them with the clean, dry sky blue ones she grabbed from the linen closet. She sits on the beanbag chair near the window, and without meaning to, she falls back asleep within a couple minutes.

Booth pushes Parker's wheelchair back into the room and smiles, noticing Brennan asleep. He gets Parker settled back into bed and sighs. "Try and go back to sleep, okay, bub?"

Parker tugs on the sheets and closes his eyes.

Booth gives him a kiss and switches off the lamp. "I love you, buddy. I'm really glad you're here," he whispers, even though he knows that Parker's not listening to him. "Goodnight." He looks at Brennan again, and although he's tempted to sit beside her on the beanbag chair, he decides against it. He doesn't want to wake her up. She looks so peaceful, so beautiful. He smiles at her and heads back to his makeshift bed in the hallway.

Brennan manages to sleep for a little while before she wakes up again. She shifts on the beanbag chair and yawns. She hears a soft sigh, so she turns her head and notices Parker's eyes are open and he's looking at her. "Hey," she whispers. "Is there something wrong?"

Parker shakes his head. "Sorry I woke you up, Bones."

"I didn't even know you were awake, buddy." She pauses. "Are you sure there's nothing wrong?"

He shifts, adjusting his head on his pillows. "I—she—." He swallows and watches Brennan stand up, walk towards him, and sit on the edge of the bed. He feels her hand rest on top of his and sees her eyes narrow just a little and one eyebrow shoot up towards the ceiling. He sighs. "It felt so real. She was alive and making me pancakes, chocolate chip."

"Your mother?"

He nods. "She had a nasty bruise on her cheek and stitches over her eye, and seemed to be in a little pain, but she was alive. She was smiling and telling me that she had to work late, so she was gonna leave some money on the counter so I could order pizza for dinner. Then she, then she just started bleeding. It was everywhere, Bones. It was pouring out from her mouth, nose, and ears, and soaking through her shirt." He lets out a shaky breath. "She was screaming my name and she grabbed onto my arm. She was screaming and there was blood, there was so much blood, Bones."

Brennan blinks, brushing her thumb against Parker's hand. She's not really sure what to say or if she should say anything.

"It felt so real."

Brennan nods. "But it wasn't, buddy. It wasn't real. Your mom isn't in pain anymore, Parks." She pauses, hooking her fingers around his hand. "Try and focus on the good memories. When you think about the accident, just think about a good memory to counteract with it. Think about all the good times you and your mother had together. Those moments don't disappear just because she's gone. They're happening right now. All you have to do is think about them."

Parker nods.

"Close your eyes and try to go back to sleep." She stands up and smiles at him. "I'll be right out in the hallway with your father if you need anything."

"Um, thanks, Bones." He pauses. "Are you and dad gonna sleep in the hallway every night?"

She shrugs. "From what your father said and how he's been acting for the past two months, I would say that is a very good possibility."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"He's not babysitting you, Parker. He's just worried."

Parker nods.

After a few minutes of silence, she says, "I shouldn't tell you this, Parker, because it's private, but your father has had and still has nightmares too. You can talk to him as well."

"I—okay."

"Goodnight. I hope you'll consider having breakfast with us in the morning." She presses a kiss to his cheek and hugs him. She gives him one last smile before walking into the hallway. She gets on the floor and scoots closer to Booth, resting her head on his shoulder and nestling into his side.

Booth mumbles in his sleep and hooks his arm around her, kissing her head. He shifts and lets out a breath.

She closes her eyes and lays there, awake, caressing his chest gently, listening to his even breaths as he sleeps. She's thinking too much, worried too much to fall back asleep for another couple hours.

Brennan's sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee and reading a book on defleshing techniques.

Booth looks up from his coffee and shakes his head. "Bones."

She lowers her book and looks at him, one eyebrow raised. "Yes?"

He peers over at the book for a second time and rolls his eyes. "You're reading one of your dead body books at the table again."

"Yes, I am, but is there a reason you pointed out the obvious?"

"Beetles, decomposing flesh, and pancakes should never be mixed."

"We're not having pancakes. I'm eating oatmeal, Christine's eating cereal, Parker's eating eggs, and you're eating a piece of toast."

"Fine. Beetles, decomposing flesh, and food should never be mixed," he corrects.

"Is there a law stating that? Because I'm not familiar with it."

"It's an unspoken rule between normal people, Bones."

"It's a good thing I'm not normal then because I quite enjoy starting my day off with one of my dead body books as you call them."

He laughs. "I give up." He looks at Parker, who's sitting across the table poking the yolk of his eggs with his fork. "How're your eggs, bub?"

Parker's zoned out, his movement unwavering.

Christine, who's sitting next to him, gets up onto her knees and nudges him. "Parky, daddy axed you a question." She pauses and giggles. "Parky, stop killing your eggs." When he doesn't stop, she pulls his plate away.

Parker's so distracted that he ends up stabbing the fork into Christine's hand as she takes his plate.

Christine yelps, tears clouding her clear blue eyes. "Ow!" She looks down at her hand as tiny drops of blood trickle from the punctures and a sob escapes her quivering lips. "Mommy!"

Booth sighs.

Brennan looks up. "What happened?"

"Parky poked me with his fork. Kiss it better, mommy. Kiss it better." Christine sniffles and cries harder, struggling to breathe.

Brennan shoves her book to the side and stands up. She walks around the table and kneels down beside the chair, taking her daughter's hand gently. She reaches for a napkin and lightly pats the punctures, getting a better look. She presses her lips against her daughter's hand and smiles up at her. "It's okay, sweetheart. They're not very deep. I'll go get you a band-aid."

"You gotta yell at Parky, mommy. He was naughty." Christine pouts.

"I'm sure it was only an accident, Christine. Your father will handle it." Brennan stands up, placing a kiss on the top of her daughter's head. "I'll be right back." She disappears down the hallway and comes back a minute later. "This will sting a little, Honey, but just for a second." She cleans off the area with antiseptic and covers the wound with a band-aid. She kisses it again and smiles. "That's better."

Booth clears his throat. "Parker," he says, raising his voice slightly to get his son's attention.

Parker lifts his head. "Wha—huh?"

"You're in big trouble, Parky. You poked me with your fork," Christine answers before her father has a chance to respond.

"Oh. It was an accident. Sorry, Teeny."

Christine gives him a hug. "It's okay, Parky. I still love you." She grabs her bowl and slips off the chair. She starts to walk towards the kitchen, but stops, turning back to the table. "Oopsy. May I be excused, mommy?"

Brennan nods. "Yes, you may. Come on. You can help me clean up the kitchen. Your daddy made quite a mess."

"Then he's gotta clean it up, mommy."

Brennan laughs. "Your father cooked all of us breakfast this morning, Honey. We can thank him by cleaning up."

"But I already thanked him, mommy. You heared me, right? I said thank you. I did. I promise I did."

Brennan nods. "I know you did, sweetheart. I heard you." She pauses. "Come on, sweetheart."

"Okay, mommy." Christine skips into the kitchen, holding her bowl as steady as she can.

"No skipping, Christine. You'll spill your—." Before Brennan has a chance to finish, she sees the plastic bowl fall to the floor, milk splashing across the tile. "Cereal," she finishes under her breath.

"Oopsy." Christine runs into the hall closet and grabs the mop. She struggles to carry it, but manages to drag it over to the mess. "I'll clean it up."

Brennan takes the mop and smiles. "I'll clean it up. Go put your bowl in the sink, please."

"Mommy, are you mad at me?"

Brennan shakes her head. "No, Honey. Mommy's not mad at you. It was just an accident. That's why we don't skip when we have things in our hands."

"Sorry, mommy."

"It's okay."

Christine wraps her arms around her mother's waist and smiles up at her. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Christine picks up the bowl and brings it over to the sink.

"Thank you." Brennan pauses as she mops up the spilled milk. "Why don't you go in the living room and play while I clean up and daddy and Parker finish their breakfast. Perhaps today we can all watch a movie together."

"Cars?"

Brennan sighs. "Again?"

"Yeah, mommy, again. It's my favoritest movie." Christine giggles and skips into the living room.

Brennan shakes her head, instantly regretting suggesting they all watch a movie together, and turns back to cleaning, half listening to the conversation going on at the kitchen table.

I got a little carried away with this chapter, but I hope you liked it.

:)