The nightmare woke her.
This was nothing unusual for Natasha Romanoff; She rarely slept deeply, and never for more than three hours at a time. But this time was different. She rubbed a hand over her tired face and blanched at the wetness on her cheeks.
Natasha didn't cry. The Black Widow did not cry.
She slumped over and took two deep breaths before calling out to her partner who she could feel hovering outside the door.
"You can come in, Barton." She winced at the rasp in her voice.
The door opened slowly, and the Hawk's sheepish face poked into the room. He took in the dishevelled appearance of his partner and sighed, stepping into the bedroom and shutting the door softly.
"Hey," Clint whispered, sitting down on the edge of her bed. "Nightmares getting bad again huh?"
"Worse." Natasha croaked.
"Tasha. Have you been…crying?" He asked, stunned.
"I think so? I don't know. I don't…remember."
"If I ask you if you wanna talk about it, are you gonna threaten me in anyway?"
Instead of responding, Natasha simply let her head drop, too exhausted and wound up to form a witty answer.
"Tash…" Clint murmured in concern, reaching out to tuck a loose curl behind her ear.
"I'm going to go to the gym." Natasha said finally, pushing herself off the bed.
Clint scowled after her as she moved around the room finding clean clothes.
"You sure that's a good idea Nat? You look like shit."
She shot him a glare. "I just gotta get it out of my system, Barton. I'll be fine. It was just a dream."
He stood when she reached the door. "Fine. I'll be with Phil then."
She nodded and headed out, slipping past the compound's security cameras with ease.
Once she had disappeared down the hall, Clint sunk back onto the bed and cursed loudly. He was about to go behind his partner's back – something he had vowed never to do – because she was too stubborn to admit when something genuinely troubled her.
Groaning, he reached over to the SHIELD phone sitting on Natasha's bedside table. He dialled and waited, praying he wasn't waking their handler.
Coulson picked up before the second ring.
"Romanoff, what's the problem?" His voice was immediately worried. Clint sighed.
"Phil, it's me. Everything's fine," he began, before the older agent could go into full panic mode. "Phil… I need a favour."