She awoke when he started moving, the mattress shifting beneath them both. She could see the sweat glistening on his skin but didn’t risk waking him, didn’t risk touching him even when he woke up with a gasp, sitting bolt right up in bed. Propping herself up on her elbows behind her, Natasha gave him a moment to come back to reality.

“Clint,” she said his name softly, watching him closely for any sign of recognition and lucidity.