For a few hours Natasha actually slept quite peacefully with Clint’s warm body, steady heartbeat and soft breathing lulling her off. For a few hours all was right with the world, but unfortunately it didn’t last. Eventually the nightmares came, dreams of memories long past. She dreamt of that tiny bundle that had not lived to take its first breath, dreamt of the pain, the loss, and as with most of her nightmares she dreamt of blood. There was always blood until she was practically drowning in it, always red that wouldn’t come off.

When she awoke, though, it wasn’t the nightmare that brought her quickly back to reality but that familiar churning of her stomach. Rolling away from Clint she grabbed the bucket he had set out for her last night and brought up what little food there was in her stomach.