She shivered and twitched. A soft moan escaped her lips. Slowly her head turned back and forth, trying to escape the horrors within her mind. Her twitches became more frequent, and the screams became louder as the nightmare progressed.
As she gave a particularly loud scream, a man came rushing into her room, a knife blade shinning dully at his hand in the dim light. His keen eyes scanned the room, searching for an intruder of any sorts. When he was confident there was no one, he rushed to her, where she was thrashing about on the bed.
"Nat," he murmured soothingly, slipping an arm around her, pulling her close. She still shook violently, but she didn't scream or kick out. "Natasha, it's just a dream. It's okay, Nat, shh, it's just a dream."
She took a huge gulp of air, shuddered, and then threw her eyes open. "Clint!" she breathed, trying to sit up and appear as though nothing had happened. He smiled at her feeble attempt to appear fine, and remained holding her tight. After a few moments, she wiggled free of his grasp.
"I'm fine Clint. Really, I'm fine," she said, searching for his eyes in the dark; she could feel his eyes on her, but she only saw his outline; he, of course, could see her well enough despite the darkness. He scolded her; though she couldn't see well enough to make out his facial expressions, she knew he would be glaring at her.
"Nat, you're lying. You haven't said a word since you came back from Ecuador, not even to Coulson. I know you're shaken; what, with the bomb that blew up the orphanage and the chick with the numchucks that nearly drowned you, you have every right to be. I know you well enough to know that you aren't going to talk until you're ready, so I'll wait. In the mean time, I'm going stay at your side, alright?"
"Clint, no. Go back to your room. I'm fine, really." She sounded like she was having a difficult time convincing herself that she was okay.
"Nope. Not leaving. Can't make me." Natasha sighed, and Clint smiled; she caved. Clint wrapped his arms around her, forcing her to lay down next to him.
"Thank you," Natasha whispered before drifting off to sleep. Clint stayed awake for a while, but eventually passed out as well. The last thing he saw before he fell asleep was Natasha's red hair, glowing with it's own light in the darkness.
The rest of the night passed by uneventfully, without so much as a flinch or moan from either of the assassins. When Coulson entered Natasha's room the next morning, wondering where in the world Clint had wandered off to, he found Natasha curled up against Clint's chest with his arms wrapped around her tightly; protectively. Coulson smiled, then quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.
When the two woke, they said nothing to Coulson, but the looks he gave them said it all.