Disclaimer: I own nothing…

Summary: Brennan has a dream that terrifies her, and she immediately goes to Booth with her fears.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Just a quick little fic I wrote a while ago… For the most part, I believe it's edited (though not recently), aside from what I filled in between the dialogue in the first section last night… Hopefully it all works, and makes sense… Enjoy.

"You can't go."

She was standing there, in his doorway, completely distraught and looking terrified. There was a catch in her voice that quickly informed him this was more than a fear of simply missing him while he was away, and he immediately tipped his head in question, his eyes holding confusion. "What?"

"Please, Booth... Just don't go. You can't." She was nearly in tears, her voice soft and pleading as she watched him, her eyes locking on his as she tried her best to convey her fear without revealing anymore of herself.

"Bones, you're talking crazy. Of course I can. I have to." He stopped just short of literally laughing it off. It sounded crazy, sure, but Temperance Brennan was standing in front of him, pleading with him to stay with her, and he had no idea where her sudden fear was coming from... And he didn't like it… Not at all.

"No. No, you can't." She was shaking her head almost violently as she insisted he stay, her hand reaching out to grasp at the doorframe, seemingly her only means of holding herself tall as she continued to stare him down, fear still bubbling over as she stood there, her eyes pleading with him. "You won't make it, Booth; I'll lose you. I can't lose you. Please. Please, just don't go."

"Temperance, this is my job. I have to go." He kept his voice light, pouring as much reassurance into it as he could.

He offered her a tiny smile, and she turned her head away from him, dropping her chin to her shoulder as her eyes locked on her hand, which was now gripping so tightly at the doorframe that her knuckles were turning white. "No, no, you don't. You'll die, Booth. You won't come home." She shook her head again, her body nearly shaking now, and the tears that had gathered in her eyes threatening to spill over as she avoided his eyes.

"You really are talking crazy…" He reached out, gently lifting her chin so that he could meet her eyes. He kept his voice soft, trying his best to reassure her, as he let his hand drift up to rest against her cheek. "Temperance, I appreciate the concern, but I'm not going to die. This is a simple case. Completely cut and dried. All I've got to do is fly out there and make the arrest. Nothing else. I'll be fine."

"No, Booth. No, you won't." Her voice was pained as she reached up to catch his hand in hers, pulling it down to rest against her heart as she wrapped his hand up in both of hers. "And it has nothing to do with the case, Booth. It's the plane. You get on that plane and you'll die."

"Temperance, that's crazy. What would possibly make you think that I won't survive the flight over there?" He looked at her curiously as he took a step closer to her, his voice incredulous but his eyes soft as he let her twine their fingers, her eyes now locked on their hands. He could tell that she was unsure of herself and the answer she was about to give.

"It's a feeling, just... it's a feeling."

Suddenly, he really did feel like laughing. Here she was, the great Doctor Temperance Brennan, and she was relying on a feeling. "Bones, since when do you believe in 'feelings'? You and I both know--"

She could read him immediately, feel that he suddenly really was looking at her as though she was crazy, and it broke her. Made her feel as though he was going to walk away in the morning and never come back... "Since the 'feelings' involved you being taken away from me! Don't you see? I can't live without you, Booth. I can't watch you die like that. I need you... Please, please don't leave me."

She was crying now, tears dripping down her already wet cheeks. His eyes softened immediately, and he reached out to pull her into his arms, his gentle hands rubbing soothing circles across her back. And the moment her head pillowed against his shoulder, he could hear the soft sobs that choked her. When he began soothing her with whispers of nonsensical utterances, she buried her face deeper into the crook of his neck and held tight to him as she shook with the fear that gripped her.

He had never seen her so terrified and broken, and he certainly couldn't pretend that her sudden breakdown didn't scare him... But right now, there was little he could do to get answers out of her, and so instead he simply pulled her inside and shut the door gently, never once breaking contact with her. Without a second thought, he led her carefully to the couch and lowered himself onto it, pulling her into his lap and rocking her gently as she settled against him, content simply that he was there, within reach, as her eyes grew heavy and she let sleep take her.

This time there were no dreams of death or fire or darkness... This time there was only the blinding white of purity: A tiny baby with a sweet little smile and tiny fingers that wrapped tightly around hers as she leaned over the gently rocking bassinet. Booth pushing Parker on a tire swing in a too-green backyard that stood surrounded by a white picket fence. That same little baby cuddled into the crook of her arm as she sang a lullaby, and the child's tiny, too-blue eyes drifted shut while she rocked her in front of a gently crackling fire. Booth smiling at the two of them from the doorframe; Parker sound asleep on the couch behind her.

It was domestic bliss. Something she had never been particularly fond of, but after the darkness of the dreams before, these were images she couldn't help but embrace. Because this was a place where she and Booth were both happy and alive and together, and in those moments, that was all she really wanted.

She started awake when she felt him jerk away from her and for a moment she was disoriented; confused about where she was and when she had gotten there, but perfectly aware that it was Booth's body she was curled against.


"Booth?" She opened her eyes slowly, meeting with only the back of his head as she gazed up at him from her place resting against his chest. "What's wrong?"

He sighed heavily as he turned back to face her, his eyes seeking hers immediately, resigning to the fact that it was too late to do anything about catching his flight. It had been in the air for over a half hour now. "Nothing." He assured her, smiling softly down at the woman who rested against him, his gentle fingers pushing the hair back from her eyes. "It's not important, Bones. Just go back to sleep."

"You missed your flight, didn't you?" She questioned softly, her eyes dropping in something akin to shame. "I'm sorry, Booth... I know I shouldn't have freaked out like that last night, and if I hadn't, we wouldn't be here right now, and you'd be on your way to California, it's just-- It was so bad. Booth, I had this dream, and you were on your flight, and you didn't make it, and-- It was the most terrifying thing I ever could have seen... You, gone, forever… and there was nothing I could do, and it scared me... I don't know how I'd ever live without you... I'm sorry."

"Don't you ever apologize for worrying about me. Temperance, it may have been a little bit crazy, but you were scared last night, and I always want you to feel comfortable coming to me with anything, especially your fears. You don't have to face these things alone, Bones, and I want you to know that I will always be here for you. No matter what. Okay?"

She nodded gently, a light smile touching her lips, before scooting forward just a bit so that her head could fall to the crook of his neck; his fingers stroking through her hair as he sighed in contentment.

"I love you." He whispered softly, his words almost too quiet to hear, but she had and she was about to respond when the gentle chiming of a cell phone echoed through the room and Booth reached out to pick it up, his fingers never stilling in her hair.

She listened closely to his end of the conversation, her brow furrowing in confusion at the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice... Something was wrong. His face was pale, and there was a tightness to his voice that signaled distress…By the time he had hung up the phone, she was growing more and more worried by the second.

When he laid the phone on the coffee table beside them, and his eyes remained fixed on it, she placed a gentle, urging hand against his chest. "Booth? What is it?"

"The plane." He told her, his eyes still fixed on the phone at his side. "That was Angela. It was your phone; she... she was calling to tell you that the plane went down-- She said there were no survivors... She was relieved when she heard it was me…"

"Oh god." Her voice was choked with tears and her eyes were filling quickly. "Oh god." It was all she could get out before collapsing into him, her arms hugging him to her tightly as her tears streaked down to stain the t-shirt he wore.

With gentle hands, he reached out to hold her, his fingers stroking her hair, her neck, her shoulders-- any part of her that his hands could reach as he did his best to sooth her with his touch; his lips finding her forehead as he soothed away all her tears.

She had been right.