Natasha pulled her arm back when he jerked away, not wanting to make him feel trapped or give him cause to try to fight her before reality set back in. She could easily defend herself, of course, and they both knew it, but that wouldn’t assuage his guilt if he did end up hurting her in any way.

“It’s okay, you’re safe. We’re both safe,” she said, hoping her voice could be the lifeline he needed to follow back. It seemed to work and soon he was pulling her into his embrace and burying his face against her.

When he spoke it seemed pretty clear what he had been dreaming about: she suspected his fears about the baby and all his worries about her had come out in his dreams. It made sense with what she knew and with everything she didn’t know. “We’re alright,” she assured him, this time the plural meaning her and the baby, and damn if that didn’t feel weird. She wasn’t just an “I” anymore, she was a “we”. “I can already tell it’s going to be another rough morning, but we’re okay.” Maybe the sickness wasn’t such a bad thing; it was normal, and as long as she was sick then maybe everything would continue to be okay. It was strange logic but comforting somehow.