A/N: I know some of you are convinced the whole Alternate Universe thing was Brennan's 'dream', and others think it was Booth's coma-induced hallucination, or that Brennan was reading everything she wrote out loud and Booth subconsciously turned it into a dream/hallucination/whatever.. I think I'm going with the last option in this story :)

Also, this is the first fanfic I've written in first person, which is a little weird for me, but I'm trying my best :)

Anyway, I hope you like it! :D

Disclaimer: Me no own Bones. Me would like to, though :)

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Brennan's POV

I was sitting next to his bed, typing my thoughts while I was thinking them and simultaneously saying them out loud, when he woke up. Surprised, and soon after that relieved and happy, I quickly closed my laptop and shoved it aside, walking towards my partner. Leaning on the edge of the hospital bed, I tried my hardest not to give in to the sudden urge to hug and kiss him, and began explaining his condition to him.

He didn't seem to hear any of it. He was looking around confusedly, mumbling something about a dream.

"It wasn't real, Booth".

Finally his eyes focused on me, really seeing me. Of all the three words he could've said, he didn't pick the ones I'd expected. The ones I'd secretly hoped he'd say, the ones I'd have happily reciprocated. Instead, he said what I had never imagined possible. I should've had. I knew it was one of the possible side effects of the surgery, yet I had never accepted it as an option.

"Who are you?"

I heard myself gasp and stared at him, tears forming in my eyes.

He returned a blank stare. He really didn't know who I was.

Suddenly, recognition dawned on him. My hopes flared up, though I knew they shouldn't.

"You're the woman from the dream. You're my wife, right?" He said, a smile forming on his lips as he probably thought he'd gotten it right.

A short, humorless laugh escaped my lips.

"I'm your partner, Booth. That's all."

"Partner in what?"

"You work for the FBI. I'm a forensic anthropologist. We work together." I couldn't believe I was really explaining this to him. He knew this. He had known this, once.

"Jared works for the FBI, not me."

Huh? "Jared's unemployed. Jared's in India."

"Why?"

"He helped me when the Grave Digger kidnapped you."

"What?"

"Grave Digger."

"Who?"

"Heather Taffet."

"Not Max Keenan?"

"My dad?"

"What?"

For a moment, it was silent. Confused, we looked at each other. I could see a familiar playful glint slowly forming in his eyes. Though my stomach fluttered a little at the sight, I managed to stay serious for another second. Then, he winked at me. Together we started laughing. Hurtful and serious as the whole situation was, this conversation was not helping. Through our laughter, I could hear a door open behind me when a nurse walked into the room. She checked all the tubes that were hooked into Booth's arm and then focused her concentration on him.

"Sir, how are you feeling?"

"I h.. I have amnesia." He snickered.

The nurse turned to me, puzzled.

"Is he okay?" she mouthed.

I could only laugh in response, my sadness momentarily gone. Booth and I could get through this, he was still the same. He was still.. my Booth

Was it a coincidence? Me not being able to hold myself from writing what I partly wished to be true, and Booth dreaming about it? It couldn't be. Replaying the last days in my head, I found vague memories of myself talking out loud to dead air. I thought I'd only read the last few lines out loud, but apparently I was wrong. I had never been convinced about it, but maybe it was true that comatose people could hear you. A shock went through me as I realized all the things I'd written. The main characters had been me and Booth, the others just fictional. Judging from what he'd said, Booth had filled in the unknown persons with ones he did know. I thought of the first scene. Did he remember? Was that what had inspired him to insist on sharing the hospital bed with me? Was that what had been the cause of me lying in his arms now, listening to his heartbeat right under my ear? If so, I couldn't help but be glad that I'd written it. For the first time in the past days, I felt safe again. I didn't allow the fear of what would happen if the amnesia was permanent to seep into my happy bubble. Not now.

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I think I'll write more chapters :) Kind of depends on how you people like it.. so if you do (like it), please review! :D

xx