It's always been your couch

our couch.

He couldn't sleep.

He couldn't sleep and he was at that point where he was frustrated. Huffing and turning over to another position every other minute, kicking the comforter off and then pulling it back on, punching the pillows into new shapes and flipping them over and over again.

Finally, he admitted defeat, he wasn't going to be able to sleep in the bed tonight, it just wasn't right, his body wouldn't accept it. It happened every once and a while, he was pretty sure it happened to everyone sometimes, there was nothing wrong with his bed, he just needed to sleep somewhere else for the night.

He groaned and got up, grabbing his comforter and a pillow and dragging himself down the stairs from his loft. He was just going to have to sleep on the couch, it wasn't a big deal, he'd done it a million times, especially while his leg was still healing after the ladder truck. Except when he got to the living room he suddenly remembered his predicament.

He didn't have a couch. Hadn't had one in months actually, not since he broke up with Taylor and she took hers with her. There was a singular arm chair that sat in the middle of his living room now, and he wanted to roll his eyes every time he remembered.

He'd been so proud of himself when he'd placed it there, thinking that he'd accepted his current life and was going to grow because of it. Now though, in the late hours of the night when he wanted nothing more than to stretch out and fall asleep somewhere other than his bed, he saw it as the bandaid covering the bullet hole that it was.

He briefly considered trying to sleep on the armchair anyways. It wouldn't work though, it only reclined part way, and even if it had gone all the way down it still wasn't long enough for him. He mentally cursed his long legs, remembering all the times his feet had hung off the edge while he was watching tv.

Which really only left one other solution, so he grabbed his keys and phone, slipped on his shoes, and made his way down to the jeep. He stuffed the comforter and pillow into the passenger seat, dropped his phone in the cup holder, and pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.

There was really only one place for him to go. Really only one couch he'd want to sleep on anyways, preferable even if he'd gotten one of his own. Even when he'd still had one sitting in his living room. There was only ever one couch.

It only took ten minutes to get him there, mainly because there was no traffic at four am, which he was grateful for, because it didn't give his body enough time to fully commit to waking up.

He pulled into the driveway, quickly cutting the engine and flipping off the lights before he grabbed his stuff and quietly shut the car door behind him. He figure that just cause he couldn't sleep didn't mean he should wake up the Diaz's. He quietly crept up to the porch, sliding his key into the lock and then opening and closing the door as silently as possible. He slid off his shoes and tiptoed his way to the living room, laying his blanket and pillow down before laying himself down too.

He let out a quiet sigh of relief, the couch was as uncomfortable as ever, but still the best damn couch in the world. As he slowly drifted off to sleep he contemplated the fact that he was pretty sure he'd spent more nights on this couch than he had all the couches that'd lived in his apartment combined. Even though he'd had to sleep on his couch every night for two months after the ladder truck.

...........................................................

He only got about two hours of sleep before he was woken up by a startled gasp and his name. He pried his eyes open to see Eddie standing over him looking both confused and concerned. He turned his eyes to the clock under the tv and groaned when he saw the time 6:12 blinking at him. Eddie, ever the menace, always woke up at 6 unless their shifts forced them into a different sleep schedule.