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Freddie's gone for the night. He's out meeting an old friend and probably won't be home until the early hours of the morning, when he'll stumble in piss drunk, collapse into bed, and sleep until noon.
For now it's midnight and Florence and Walter are in bed together. Walter hasn't been sleeping in bed with them for the past week or so, instead opting to sleep alone on the couch, but with Freddie gone they don't have much of an excuse. They tried to, but Florence pouted about it and guilted them into it. She doesn't see the point in them sleeping alone when they're one person down in a big bed. So now here they are, their limbs tangled up, fast asleep.
Then Walter wakes up and pushes Florence away before rushing to sit up. Florence wakes up in the process, almost falling out of bed, confused and trying to figure out what's going on. It's winter, the apartment is cold, and Walter isn't wearing a shirt, so the minute the covers come off of them they start to shiver. From Walter's distant stare and labored panting Florence wonders if that's the only reason they shake like they've never known warmth.
"Babe?" Florence rubs their back. They bury their face into their hands and their breathing starts to slow down. "You okay?"
They moan softly into their hands. "...Just fine." Their back is tense and Florence's touch only makes them tense up more. They inhale sharply and hold their breath. "Give me a minute."
Walter gets out of bed quickly but walks at a regular pace until they're out of her sight, then runs the rest of the way to the bathroom just in time to throw up. Florence follows when she hears them getting sick and stands in the doorway to the bathroom. She frowns. "You're not okay. Are you sick?"
It's over quickly and Walter gets up off of the floor to rinse their mouth in the sink. "Just a bad dream. Freaked me out a bit." Florence holds their arm to try and comfort them and they flinch away from her. "...Sorry."
"You're terrified."
"I'm not. Your hands are cold."
"Your arm is colder." She sits up on the counter. "Mind telling me about it? Might help you relax."
Walter sighs and puts on a smile for her. "You should go back to bed. I'll stay up 'til Freddie gets home."
"You don't have to tell me anything, but I'm staying up with you until you're ready to go back to bed." She leans her head against the wall. "I won't touch you unless you ask." She doesn't want to embarrass them, but she can see they don't want to be touched. That's most of the reason they'd prefer to be left alone.
They prop themself up against the wall and cross their arms. "Why are you such an angel?"
"Only at night. It's after my bitch business hours."
They laugh. "Fine. I'm going out to the couch."
They go and get comfortable together. Florence is assuming they'll be up for a while yet based on Walters distant stare and very deliberate deep breathing. Walter has their legs gathered up into themself and Florence sits on the other end of the couch facing them with their back against the arm. She's giving them space, but they're less than a foot away from touching at their closest point. Still close enough to show she cares. Close enough to tell them that they should be open about anything bothering them. A nightmare can shake anyone with very little cause, but they're visibly upset. Not in the ways people generally recognize, but she knows them well enough to see it.
"Talk to me if you need to." Florence requests.
"You're staring at me, you know."
Florence forces herself to look at the floor. Walter finds it cute and decides it can't hurt to talk about it, not with someone so genuine and sweet like Florence. "The bombs dropped. I knew it was going to happen and I couldn't do anything. You and Freddie died quickly and I- I had to watch." They shift uncomfortably. It feels like her eyes are still on them even though she's making a point of looking away. They shouldn't mind, but the picture of her skin melting away stays imprinted on their mind. "It's always the same one."
"You get them often?" She asks. She understands the anxieties around these things, though she tries not to think about it too hard.
Walter nods. "You'd think I'd get used to it by now."
She lets herself look at them again, just for a moment. They're pale and a little dazed. "That's why you've been sleeping alone for the last week." She says, saddened they wouldn't bring it up without prodding. "Don't you think waking up to us there with you would make it better?"
"I don't want to bother you two. Look, if I hadn't slept with you tonight you'd still be asleep."
"And then when Freddie comes home he won't give a shit and wake us both up. We can split the difference, help you sleep easier by sacrificing a bit of our own. I'm sure Freddie feels the same way." She pleas. Being secretive only hurts them all. "You can cry if you need to."
"Shut the fuck up." They smile. It's a success, either they cry or the suggestion they might makes them feel so ridiculous they laugh, and while it's always the latter result Florence continues to use it because it continues to work. "It's a dream . I'm not a total wuss."
"Okay, okay. Just putting it out there." She's used to Freddie, who cries at everything. Usually an angry cry, but still. "Ready to go back to bed?"
"...I'm going to wait for Freddie to get home." They decline. They want to see him, can't totally relax until they do.
"That's fine. I'll stay up too." She extends a hand as a request to hold theirs. They stare at it for a moment before holding it, still apprehensive from the horrifying images that refuse to leave them. "Want to find a shitty old-" she almost says horror movie. That's not a good idea. "romance movie on tv? There's that channel that plays all those 40's ones."
"That'd be nice." They pull her over and on top of them, she has to stop from shrieking because it's the middle of the night and they'd get a noise complaint, but she's laughing so hard she can hardly breathe anyways when they start to kiss the spot on her neck where she's the most ticklish.
They curl up together and put on a movie, it's part way through and they miss all of the vital context but that makes it even better to mock. They're both exhausted so eventually they lie down, her on top of them with her head on their chest. She can feel their breathing level out as they drift off to sleep, soothed by the weight on top of them and the quiet murmur of the tv. She follows soon after and they sleep like that until it's morning and sun is streaming through the window and miraculously they sleep through Freddie's entry.
Florence lets Freddie know what happened so Walter doesn't have to swallow their pride and confess weakness to their less gentle partner. Freddie doesn't say anything about it, he gets it. He gets sleep paralysis every couple months and has the same types of anxieties.
And they all sleep together the next night. Not well, but they do.