Title: I Dreamed You Were A Cosmonaut in the Space Between Our Chairs
post The Hero in the
Disclaimer: Bones isn't mine. Title comes from the song Armchairs by Andrew Bird.
He'd moved over a little, making space for her. An innocent act and a soft smile that had terrified her. She'd smiled awkwardly, making herself more comfortable on the uncomfortable chair but her hand gripped his just that little bit tighter.
His face was one of quiet acceptance as he squeezed her hand one last time before closing his eyes, his breathing evening out into a gentle rhythm.
She wasn't sure how long she'd sat there, on the hard hospital chair still dressed to the nines. She felt drained, heavy and over-dressed, and not for the first time wondered why she wasn't curled in to his side.
She slipped her hand from his, and moved his arm over to his side. Her feet struggled to flatten themselves to the floor as she silently slipped out of her heels, the pain a result of their having been shoed in to an unnatural position since the day before. She pulled at the tights around her toes, only now aware of how restricted she was feeling. She shed her coat and along with it the heavy everyday objects in the pockets.
The earrings were the last to go. Laying them gently on the side table she finally felt a little more Temperance, a little less the award-winning Dr. Brennan. It wasn't until Booth that she'd started wanting to be the former more than the latter. But in the presence of this man, she mainly felt a little more Bones.
The bed felt softer than it should; Booth's warmth more addictive than it should. Checking every few seconds that she hadn't woken him, she eventually moulded herself to his side, her hand sliding in to his by their hips and her head tucking in to the gap between his head and his shoulder. She sighed, finally reassured that he hadn't left her alone in this world.
Above her sleeping head, Booth smiled.