She smiled at that sleepy note in his voice and settled her hand on his arm, more than ready for a little shuteye herself. “If you get too heavy you know I’ll have no problem removing you,” she said, her smile clear in her voice even with that added tired edge to it.

Stretched out in the comfortable bed with Clint’s warm, comfortable presence at her side, it didn’t take long for Natasha to drift off to sleep after she heard his breathing settle out. The nightmares didn’t even plague her that night, her body too exhausted and her head still filled with happy thoughts, but when she awoke in the morning it still wasn’t a pleasant awakening. She had felt relatively well the past day and had thought that whatever was wrong with her had finally passed, but apparently she had been mistaken. Her stomach was revolting viciously, much worse than the morning before.

Clint was still curled up against her side, his head on her chest, and she knew there was no way she was getting out of this without waking him, nor did she have time to try. “I have to get up,” she said, her voice coming out as more of a croak from sleep. She didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t give him chance to protest or playfully try to keep her in place; instead she extracted herself from his arms as efficiently as possibly, forcefully if necessary. “Bathroom.” That was the only explanation she gave, and though her stomach protested she tried to walk normally toward the door, though a little hurried. Once in the hallway, though, she bolted for the bathroom, pushing the door to behind her and making it to the toilet just in time to empty the contents of her stomach into the bowl.