(Season 11)

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I don't own Bones.

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A headache had hit him hard early that afternoon and Booth gave up doing any work. After he arrived home, he lay on the couch with a cool damp cloth over his forehead and tried to sleep away the headache.

Brennan picked up their children from Day Care and arrived home just as Aubrey pulled into the driveway. Grateful for Aubrey's help removing the children from her car, Brennan carried Hank to the house while Aubrey led the way holding Christine's hand. Once they were in the house, Brennan noticed Booth on the couch first and asked her children to play quietly in Christine's room for a while. Aubrey walked through the living room to the guest bedroom/home office to secure his gun and badge and to change into a pair of jeans and a blue cotton shirt he favored.

Dinner was already planned, so Brennan started preparing the meal while she let Booth sleep. He had called her earlier that day and let her know about the headache, so she had known what to expect when she got home. What she didn't count on was Booth having a nightmare and Aubrey interfering.

The dream was very bad. Booth had found himself back in Iraq, a prisoner of war and being tortured. The pain was real and his head felt like it was going to explode. Panting, he struggled to loosen the restraints on his wrists after his torturers left the room and felt them fall away. Desperate to escape the room he stood up from the chair and tried to open the door, but it wouldn't open. He struggled with the door, but no matter how hard he pulled it wouldn't open. Suddenly he felt the door knob turn in his hand and he knew that his captors were coming back.

Aubrey left his room and noticed Booth standing near the fireplace a look of fear on his face. Not sure what was going on, Aubrey approached his friend and meant to touch Booth's arm to check on him. Before he could do that, Brennan called out to him.

"Don't touch him, Aubrey." Brennan hurried from the kitchen and over to where Booth was standing. "He's asleep. Don't touch him."

Since Booth's eyes were open, Aubrey had assumed the man was awake. "How can you tell?" He trusted Brennan so he slowly backed away, uncertain what else he was supposed to do.

"I just know." Brennan had years of experience dealing with Booth's nightmares and was confident she knew how to handle them. "Booth . . . you're alright . . . Booth wake up . . . Booth . . . It's okay, Booth, it's not real . . . Booth."

Her words broke through his dream and he finally woke up. Surprised to find himself facing the fireplace, Booth rubbed his hands across his face and shook the last of the horrible dream from his mind. "I'm awake." His shirt was soaking wet from sweat and clung to his skin making him feel chilled. "It was just . . . I'm awake."

Relieved that he was okay, Brennan moved closer and kissed his cheek. "Go get a shower. Dinner is cooking and should be ready in about thirty minutes. Christine and Hank are playing in Christine's room."

His head still pounding, Booth grimaced. "I think I have a migraine. I'm going to pass on dinner tonight and just go to bed."

"Alright." Brennan watched Booth move slowly down the hallway and into their bedroom. With a faint smile on her lips, Brennan turned to face Aubrey. "Would you like to make us each a salad while I see to the pasta?"

Though he was curious, Aubrey decided not to ask questions and followed Brennan into the kitchen. He knew that Booth had been through a lot of crap in his life and there was no way of knowing what the man had been dreaming about, but he knew it had to be bad. "I got a call from my apartment manager and I should be able to move back in this Friday. I'm sure you'll be glad to get me out of your hair."

As she stirred the Alfredo sauce she was making for the pasta, Brennan tried to assure her guest he was wrong. "Nonsense. I've liked having you here. Certainly the children have enjoyed your company and the wonderful breakfasts you have made for them."

A feeling of warmth coursing through him, Aubrey smiled as he sliced some carrots very thinly for the salad. "Thank you. I've actually loved being here. I haven't lived with anyone for a long time." Tossing the carrots in the salad bowl, he tossed in some torn boston bibb lettuce and started to slice up a cucumber. "I talked to Jessica. We're going to start dating . . . We think it's time."

"Good." Brennan checked her pasta and decided it needed a few more minutes. Her children hated al dente pasta, but she had to make sure it didn't over cook and turn mushy. "It helps that you are already friends . . . Just remember that no relationship is perfect."

"Not even yours." Aubrey had meant it as a wise-crack, a joke, but Brennan took it seriously.

"Yes, that's true." Brennan stirred her sauce and added some spices to give it a little more flavor. "But Booth and I are happy and that is all that matters. We've certainly had an exciting life together so far."

Aubrey tossed the cucumber in the salad bowl and started on the tomato. "If you don't mind, I'd rather have a less exciting life than you two have had."

Amused, Brennan laughed. "Yes, I'm sure that's true." While her pasta sauce simmered, Brennan pulled out a pot and placed it on the stovetop. Moving over to the fridge, she removed some homemade vegetable stock from the freezer and dumped it into the pan. "I'll heat this up just in case Booth is ready to eat something later tonight. If he really does have a migraine then he won't be able to handle anything heavy like pasta alfredo until at least tomorrow."

A quick glance towards the hallway, Aubrey lowered his voice. "Does he have migraines often?"

"No he doesn't." Brennan added a little shredded chicken to the broth that she kept in the freezer for whenever she made a simple soup for Booth. "The Arsenault case was upsetting to him. He had to break the news to Richard Arsenault that the wood chipper victim was his son. Booth said that Richard cried. These cases can be very upsetting for Booth. Even though Andrew was a grown man, he was a young man and Booth takes the deaths of young people very hard. He is good at hiding his emotions, but these cases can leave him with a headache. Not all of them turn into migraines though, in fact most of them don't. I think his nightmare just intensified the headache. This probably isn't a migraine, but he is in pain and I think the hot shower and an early night will help him."

Aubrey thought about it and liked that Brennan knew exactly what to do about Booth's problem. "You two are good together, like a well-oiled machine."

"Thank you." Brennan picked up the pot containing the pasta and poured it into a colander in the sink. "We've had many years to learn about each other. Hopefully you and Jessica will have many years together too."

God that would be nice. Aubrey tossed the tomato in the salad bowl and mixed everything lightly. "Well, the salad is ready and I see the pasta is too. I'll go get the kids for you."

"That would be helpful, thank you." Brennan poured the strained pasta in to the sauce leaving out a serving size portion of pasta which she placed in the pot of broth and shredded chicken. "I'll just let this simmer for a while. Booth loves homemade chicken noodle soup. It will comfort him later tonight once he can eat."

Maybe Jess and I will get there some day. Taking care of each other, being there for each other. That is what I want. Someone to care about me and letting me care about them. Having barbeques and cooking dinner together, having kids and sharing secret jokes no one else gets . . . that would be perfect or as perfect as anyone gets in life.

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This is the end of my story. I hope you enjoyed it.