1:22 AM

Lying in bed next to Barry, Iris traces a hand down his arm slowly.

"I love you," he murmurs for the hundredth time in the past hour. "Iris, I love you so—"

She kisses him and draws him closer and he has never been happier to be quieted.

. o .

2:13 AM

Iris hugs him like a teddy bear, from behind, close and calm and deeply asleep, and Barry smiles and rests a hand over her folded arms.

If he loved her any harder, he wouldn't exist.

. o .

3:48 AM

At some unidentified point in time Iris makes a soft, concerned sound and Barry is so tired his teeth hurt but he takes notice, immediately, and turns over. He hugs her, and she buries her face in his neck and breathes in deeply.

I know, he agrees without saying a word, rubbing her back. I know.

Even for him, some things are truly extraordinary.

Having Iris back in his arms – given back by the Speed Force, no less – was worth the bolt from the blue.

. o .

4:10 AM

In the middle of the night when coherence is a blue-jay and silence reigns, she kisses the length of his jaw, a slow, questioning gesture, and he lets it happen for a long minute, scarcely daring to believe – to hope – to dream this is his reality.

Then he tilts his head and kisses her properly and basks in her realness.

All of it.

. o .

4:58 AM

He's stupid-tired, punch-tired, cross-eyed-tired, and still he cannot bring himself to let her go, even in his sleep. She cuddles in his arms and does not share his compunctions. He hums softly and it resonates like a purr in his chest.

There is nothing in this world I love more than you, Iris West.

. o .

5:28 AM

He finds the tape because he is restless and searching, and he watches it.

Cupping a hand over his mouth, he sobs until he wakes her up, and then he leans into her and weeps.

. o .

5:45 AM

She tells him, "I didn't know it was possible to love someone as much as I love you, Barry Allen."

He presses his forehead against her shoulder. He couldn't agree more.

. o .

6:20 AM

Any-other-day, he would slip out of bed and make breakfast, and she'd drift sleepily in his wake and distract him from anything resembling productivity, and he'd love every second of it.

Today, he just holds her.

. o .

7:39 AM

Iris gets up and returns before his soft, imploring noise has actualized from dream to reality.

He accepts her gratefully back into his arms and overwrites the cold memory with warm, soft skin.

. o .

7:51 AM

Barry should call Singh, let him know he won't be coming in today.

He nuzzles Iris' shoulder and drifts into forgetfulness instead.

. o .

9:30 AM

Even Iris can only sleep for so long.

When she stirs, Barry opens his eyes. He follows the path of her arms as they stretch towards the ceiling, smiling helplessly up at her. Resting a hand on her hip, he tries to convey it ten-thousand more times.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

She leans down and kisses him.

Four words fix what he feared might always remain broken:

"I love you, too."

And something restless in his soul finds peace.