She was crying again.

Another moment of sleep, another vision of Vincent's blood on Booth's hands, the look in his dying eyes. Another moment of questioning her reality, her perspective, her purpose.

Enough was enough. She needed nothing more than company – a shoulder to cry on, a friend to commiserate and relate.

Booth. His voice, his touch, his comforting presence. It was familiar. Constant. Her concerns were wiped away but pain stood in their place. He hugged her, she cried, they laid back and soon she was asleep.

The nightmarish reality of Vincent's death remained, but waking up in Booth's arms stemmed the tears and allowed her to sleep again. In the moments she was awake, she thought. Everything had turned upside down that day, that month, that year. What was solid became fluid, changing. The center held – she and Booth remained partners, the team remained intact. Everything was different though, and she had to adapt.

Maybe, she thought, it was their time. Twice she had been given the chance to have Booth, to make him hers for always. Twice she had refused, but never because she was opposed to the idea. The circumstances were against her; everything had been wrong. Too much too soon; the chance over too fast.

She had nearly lost him the last time. She knew that. He was a constant in her life, but he could no be expected to remain when she had all but asked him to leave. She could not lose him again. She needed him.

Her conclusion solid, her mind at rest, her heart surprisingly intact, she lost herself again in sleep. When she awoke the next morning his arms would still protect her, his voice would still comfort her, his heart would still love her.

She was ready.

Everything happens eventually.