51. Illusive
He's used to being woken by their children, by the phone, by her ministrations, at all hours of the night, however, it's been several years since he's been woken by her screams.
His own nightmares are a rare occurrence now that they're not catching murderers anymore, even when he does get them they're not as intense as they used to be, they just wake him and all he has to do is look to where she's lying and he's peaceful once more.
The first time she'd woken him up with a scream had been several weeks into their relationship and he'd never been so scared in his life. She'd been drenched in sweat, tears staining her cheeks and his mind had immediately assumed that something was wrong with their baby. But then he'd seen her face, scrunched up painfully, eyes squeezed firmly shut, her whole body shaking with fear.
Much like that night he reached out, pulling her against him, into his arms, pushing the hair plastered to her face away before kissing her soundly. She froze instantly before she collapsed in his arms, crying into his shoulder. He murmured comforting words against her ear, reassuring her with a steady hand running up and down her spine, stopping to rest each time at its familiar place on her lower back.
"Booth—"
"I'm right here, baby, everything's okay, you're safe."
"I'm sorry for waking you, that dream was very illusive and—"
"Don't apologise, Bones, like I told you after that first time, I am here for everything, nightmares included. I love you, okay?"
"I know, I love you, too."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not right now, could you just hold me for a while?"
"Always."