At some point in the middle of the night they had rolled away from each other. Neither of them was used to sleeping with another person, not like this, and they had reverted to their usual positions when they shared a bed on missions: back to back. Survival instinct was hard to ignore, no matter how safe they were.

Natasha slept rather dreamlessly, and what hints of nightmares that did creep in where quickly forgotten when Clint’s voice saying her name suddenly drew her from her slumber. For a moment she was disoriented, her hand reaching under her pillow for a gun that wasn’t there as her eyes shot open and searched for the doorway. She saw nothing, and before she could panic about her missing gun her brain caught up with reality. She was in Clint’s apartment, Clint’s bed, and if she rolled over she would find him lying there with her.

Taking a deep breath to settle her mind, alarm quickly set in when she felt the best shaking slightly, like the mattress itself was trembling. Rolling over, she was met with the sight of Clint’s back and could see him shivering, even in the darkness. “I’m right here,” she assured him, moving close again and wrapping her arm around him from behind.