“You know you’re never supposed to tell a woman that, right?” she teased, though she stopped short of saying that it was no wonder that none of his relationships lasted. Even as a joke she wasn’t sure she should go there. “Besides, if I still looked good after surgery then all the female agents would hate me.” She had a feeling many of them already did, though it was probably more fear than hate.

At least Clint didi claim that he planned to sleep and Natasha assumed he was just waiting for her to do so first. Silly assumption. Her brows lowered as he continued, claiming he planned to stay and just sleep in the chair, even crossing his arms in a stubborn manner as if daring her to argue. She searched his eyes and knew that protesting would be a waste of much needed energy. For what felt like a long while she held his gaze but he didn’t budge, and eventually she sighed and closed her eyes.

“Well if you’re going to sleep there you might as well sleep here,” she said, patting the small bit of mattress beside her as she opened her eyes to meet his again. They took care of each other, that’s what they did, and just because she was the injured one didn’t mean he didn’t need a little care as well.