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Barry falls asleep first. It’s surprising considering how uncomfortable he had been about sleeping in the same bed as them, but it seems the emotional day got to him. As soon as his head hit the pillow he’s out. Iris stares at him for a little longer than necessary, resisting the urge to run her fingers through his hair. Eddie stretches out next to him, hair wet from the shower and eyes drooping.
“Do you think he’ll freak out in the morning?” Eddie asks around a yawn.
She shakes her head. “One of us will wake up to him wrapped around us like a koala. I think he’ll be fine.” She hopes he’ll be fine.
Iris drops a kiss on Eddie’s lips before he falls asleep completely then wraps up her hair in a pretty red and yellow wrap Barry got her for her birthday before climbing under the covers on Barry’s other side. It’s a bit of a tight fit, the bed wasn’t made for three people, but she manages to get comfortable. She pulls out the book on Harrison Wells she picked up and turns to the page she last left on. It’s a well-written biography, enticing and more like a story than any other biography she’s read, but it seems shallow.
She reaches halfway through an hour later, one hand holding the book propped up in her lap and the other hand on Barry’s head, her nails scratching his scalp. It’s something that became habit when they were kids and they’d fall asleep on the couch watching movies, she’d scratch Barry’s head like he’s an overgrown cat and he’d massage her feet or hands. Both of their habits are absentminded, but she’s glad they developed, especially when she feels Barry flinch sharply.
She yanks her hand away, staring wide-eyed at him. Did she hurt him? Is he already hurt and she just accidently touched whatever wound is there? She can’t think of any instance where Barry could’ve gotten hurt today. The Flash did take care of a fire in an apartment building, the whole thing collapsed but there were no deaths and only two serious injuries. He’d not been mentioned in the casualty count. Though, he’d never tell and no one would know. There’s nothing visible on him, that didn’t rule out a head wound hidden by his hair.
Of course, if there is a head wound, it’s not like Barry would tell them. She’s not supposed to know he’s the Flash, not yet, and Barry doesn’t know she knows. It seems safer to keep it to herself for now until he can get a handle on, well, everything, and tell her himself in confidence.
Barry flinches again even without her touching him and flips over, disturbing Eddie enough he grumbles but doesn’t wake up. He curls up the best he can with the little room he has and clutches at his shirt, pulling at the fabric over his chest. The he shifts to his back, brows furrowed and sweat beading his forehead.
So, nightmare then?
Iris sets the book slowly on the bedside table, not taking her eyes off Barry. She reaches out for him and he whimpers, curling back over so he’s facing her once again. It pains her to see him so distressed, especially in sleep when it’s one of those few times people can just forget every crappy thing that’s happen and let go.
“He kicked me in the shin,” Eddie says suddenly, making her jump. She looks over to see him peering up at her, eyes half-lidded and expression screaming exhausted. “He okay?”
“Nightmare,” she whispers.
He presses his lips together, understanding out weighing the exhaustion. “Do you have a routine for this?” He’s shifting up so he’s leaning against the headboard now. “I assume he got nightmares after—.” He waves his hand kind of aimlessly, but she get’s what he’s not saying.
“He likes cuddling?” she offers, but she has to frown. Back in the day when Barry got a nightmare he’d creak open her door and wake her up before he asked for comfort in so little words. Right now, in this moment, she can’t bring herself to do it when he’s asleep and not expecting it.
Eddie mirrors her expression, seeming to catch on to the reason for her reluctance and hesitation. He reaches out and presses a light touch to Barry’s arm, calling his name. There’s no reaction until Eddie says his name again and Barry’s jerking then freezing, his whole body stiffening.
His eyes are open, hazy, but they meet hers and she’s startled to see them wet with tears. “Iris,” he croaks out. He squeezes his eyes shut, something like shame flitting across his face. He rolls on his back. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice raspy. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Wasn’t even asleep yet,” Eddie assures him. Barry snorts, catching the lie for what it is. “And it doesn’t matter anyway. You had a nightmare, you’re in our bed, it’s only fair we comfort you, yeah?”
Barry cracks a smile. “I’m not entirely sure if that’s logically sound, but I’ll take it.” He peeks up at him. “If you…If you don’t mind?”
“Why would I mind?” Eddie asks dismissively. He grins up at Iris and she can’t help but smile back.
Iris makes sure the alarm is set for the right time before switching off the lamp and snuggling down in under the covers. Barry’s a warm presence next to her, almost too warm, but the chill of a late night apartment has her scooting closer anyway. She hears and feels more than sees Eddie move on the other side, his finger brushing her stomach as he throws an arm over Barry’s waist.
Barry makes a sound in the back of his throat and curls on his side, facing Eddie and shifting down to the point his shoulders are at Iris’s chest. She moves even closer until she’s pressing against his back and snakes an arm under his to wrap around his chest and she puts her foot over his knee, nudging Eddie’s leg as well.
“Sleep,” she says softly into Barry’s ear. “We’ve got you.”
His shoulders shake and he lets out a sob soft enough it could pass as a sigh, but she knows better. Instead of saying anything she just tightens her arm, feels Eddie do the same thing, and presses a kiss to the back of his head.
“Sleep.”