FRIENDLY FIRE: A 9-1-1 fanfiction

Part Thirty-Nine: Couch Retheorised

Thank you, Makgames1, for your sweet comments. Here's a little chapter for you.
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EMMA

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"Dad! We don't have any more toothpaste!"

I jumped as Christopher's voice rang out through the house, something falling off the couch as I moved, hitting the floor loudly.

From behind me, a voice groaned loudly before I felt Eddie's hand move off my waist, raising to his face as his dragged it down it. "Why is it morning?"

I pressed my lips together to stop from laughing, shutting my eyes again quickly as he shifted, sitting up on the couch. I heard him sigh and then freeze, and I knew he was looking right at me. I could feel the heat of his gaze on my face. 

"Dad!"

"Jesus, he's going to wake the dead," Eddie groaned softly, before, I felt him grab onto the headrest of the sofa, pushing himself up and sliding over it.

I thought he'd leave straight away to help Christopher, which was why I had to stop my body from jerking in surprise when I felt his hand go under my head and the other go under my legs. 

He moved me back, further into the couch, adjusting the blanket over my body before letting his hand linger on my arm, his thumb rubbing small circles there.

"Dad!" Christopher groaned again, stretching the word.

"Who needs a microphone when you have a kid?" Eddie grumbled, straightening out before walking away, his footsteps disappearing down the corridor.

I cracked my eyes open again once I was sure he was gone, fighting a smile off my face as I took in the room; the coffee table still pushed against the wall and the empty mugs resting on top of it.

Last night had been one of the best nights of my life in a way I never dreamed I'd ever have again. I had shared the worst parts of myself with Eddie, and he'd accepted them without a moment's hesitation, like he hadn't even seen them as flaws. 

I know I wasn't supposed to compare, but at my worst, Luca Parelli had left a letter telling me he needed to find himself again before he walked out of my life. Now, at a different worst, Eddie Diaz had taken it all in and asked me to dance with him to keep the pain away, giving me happy memories to use to replace the dark ones.

"Did you let Emma sleep on the couch?" Christopher's curious voice had me rushing to shut my eyes again, feigning sleep.

"Uh... sort of," Eddie mumbled before shushing him, "she's still asleep, though, so let's be as quiet as we can, okay?"

"Okay," Christopher agreed, "but why do I have to be extra nice to her today?"

My heart fluttered in my chest and I tightened my grip on the pillow under me; I wasn't even sure where it had come from, I'd passed out before Eddie had the night before and it wasn't there when I'd fallen asleep.

"Because Emma was a bit sad last night and when people are sad, what do we do?" Eddie's voice was low, drifting out as the pair made their way into the kitchen.