Author's Note: This is probably the shortest thing I have written so far for this fandom, but I never intended it to be long - just a cute (semi-Christmas?) WestAllen drabble. Takes place probably about a week after the events of episode 2x09 "Running to Stand Still." And while I'm like certain that both Iris and Barry were moved out of Joe's house at that point, we're going to pretend for the sake of this story that they were not XD. Anyways, enjoy!
Thunder and lightning crashed in harmony outside, pouring rain hitting hard against the windows as gusts of wind howled loudly. Take that and couple it with the snoring of her father down the hall, and it was no wonder Iris couldn't sleep. Lucky for the detective, he had succumbed to sleep before the worst of the storm had really started. Iris hadn't been so lucky. With a sigh, she sat up, throwing the covers from her body; at this point, there was no use in trying anymore. She slid out of her bed and stood, padding barefoot down the hallway. She fully intended to head downstairs and try to distract herself somehow until the storm let up at least a little bit, but she paused when she reached Barry's room. Because, much to her surprise, she saw that he was still awake, sitting up in bed with his knees pulled against his chest.
"Barry?" she asked, softly but loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the raging weather. His head whipped around, and as a bolt of lightning flashed, illuminating his face, she was easily able to see the uneasy, fearful expression on his face. She frowned, immediately changing course and walking into his room. She sat down on the edge of his bed despite not being asked to, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Bar, what's wrong?"
Barry ran a hand over his face, and as Iris watched him in the dim light, she could see how tired he looked, yet there he was sitting up wide awake in bed. She could also see the way his expression changed to almost guarded, trying to hide his emotions from her.
"Iris, I'm fine," he said quietly. "It's nothing. Go back to bed."
Iris frowned again and instead scooted farther onto the bed, forcing Barry to move over as well so that there was enough room for both of them.
"Don't try and pull that shit with me," she said sternly now. "It's obviously not 'nothing.' What's bothering you?"
Barry let out a soft groan, this time running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit.
"It's stupid," he said this time. "You don't need to worry about it."
"What's bothering you?" she repeated, showing no signs of leaving any time soon. Barry was cornered, and he knew it. The speedster let out a sigh.
"...the storm," he admitted finally, and Iris couldn't be sure, but she thought she noticed his cheeks redden a bit, as if he were embarrassed.
"What about it?" Iris pressed, firm but gentle at the same time. Barry closed his eyes a moment as if trying to compose himself, taking a breath before opening them again, looking Iris in the eyes now.
"It's just - since the thing with Mardon and The Trickster at Christmas…" Barry trailed off, but Iris figured she got the gist of what he was trying to say.
"This reminds you of that," she said, gesturing vaguely to what was happening outside; it didn't take much to connect the dots, after all. Barry had nearly died at the hands of Mardon with his weather powers.
"You stopped them," Iris said softly, shifting so that she was pressed even closer against the speedster, wrapping an arm around his shoulder in an attempt to bring him comfort. "You won."
"I know," Barry replied, his voice not much louder than a whisper. "But I just - I felt so powerless, Iris. All I could do was let them keep coming at me. The only reason things worked out the way they did was because Cisco, Jay and Harry found a way to get rid of the bombs."
"Not everything has to fall on your shoulders, you know. You have a team - you have us - for a reason, Bar. You're not in this alone. You should never have to be."
Barry sighed, closing his eyes and letting her words soak in. He opened his eyes again seconds later, turning his head slightly to look at her, their faces hovering inches apart in the close confines Iris had made. She could feel his breath tickling her neck, the warmth that always seemed to radiate off of him.
"I know," he repeated, offering her a sliver of a smile. "I told you it was stupid."
Iris rolled her eyes. "It is not stupid," she chided. "But you do need to stop putting yourself down about it. They're put away, it's over. And Cisco, Jay and Harry might have been the ones to get rid of the bombs, but you, Barry Allen, you were the one who took them down."
Iris, her eyes mostly adjusted to the darkness, could see the way his smile slowly expanded.
"What would I do without you?" came his voice seconds later.
"You'll never have to find out."
Outside, just a thin wall and a pane of glass keeping it out, the storm continued its path of rage. But inside, the two of them together, it might as well have been a world away. And if the next flash of lightning showcased two silhouettes inching closer than they already were - well, who would tell?