Their entire relationship was a trade off, and that particular morning was no different. Especially once Natasha's mind caught up with the rest of her. Neither of them had pasts that lent themselves to pleasant dreams and full nights of sleep. It wasn't every night, but more often than not one of them woke with a nightmare or even a night terror. Being who and what they were, light sleeper was too mild of a description for their nighttime habits. So when Natasha woke up completely, her mind finally catching up, she wasn't at all surprised to find a metal arm gently wrapped around her stomach. In fact, it was comforting. It always had been, though. So she knew he was as awake, if not moreso, than she was at that moment. He didn't ask, however. Didn't say a word. If she wanted to talk about it, he'd listen. If she didn't, he'd still be there. It frightened other people at first, how they could work so seamlessly. Even with James only retaining part of his past, and largely only his time with Steve, there was this unspoken camaraderie that they had. Had been building on for decades, even a few dozen mind wipes, in either of their cases, couldn't break. She hummed softly and pressed tighter against James, and the arm tightened in response.
"Ballet." Was all she said. Was all she needed to say, he knew. He understood. Even if he didn't remember, she knew he understood. In fact she felt his slow nod without having to turn her gaze. They laid in silence for a bit longer before he broke it with quiet words.
"Which time?" he asked and Natasha grimaced. She wracked her brain for the exact time her nightmare had been set. He must have felt her stiffen, because a gentle tug pulled her even closer to his chest.
"Second, I think." She answered, chewing on her bottom lip. James nodded behind her and her grimace morphed into a gentle smile.
"Want to watch them, then?" After a few more moments of silence, and Natasha blinked. It was only natural they had things that let them clear the fears and doubts from their minds after such nights, so it was only natural that he suggested her particular one for a night like this. She glanced over at the clock, seventeen after four. She could work with that.
"Yeah, but you don't have to come." She was already sitting up, pulling herself out of his grasp. She swung her legs over the bed and shivered slightly at the cold floor. She picked up the first piece of clothing she could think of and threw it on over her mostly nude body. One of James' shirts, and it absolutely dwarfed her. But it was warm, and that was all that mattered. She let the sleeves of the shirt hang past her hands, and balled the fabric up in her fists. She could hear James moving behind her, she guessed he would join her after all.
"You stole my shirt, what am I supposed to wear?" She heard him gripe from the other side of the bed. She smirked.
"Wear something of mine?" She was being a smart ass, but she couldn't help herself. He had an entire dresser of clean clothes.
"Your shirt would fit an arm, that's about as far as I'd get." She turned and chuckled at him. She flung out an arm and pointed to his dresser.
"We just did laundry yesterday. I'm sure you'll survive." She told him, sauntering out of the bedroom. Their apartment was on the chilly side, but that's how they both liked it. Besides, his shirt mostly covered her. That was one of the beauties of the high end apartment they rented. Sure, it wasn't the Tower, where Tony kept insisting he'd steal all of their stuff to so they would have to move, but she liked their apartment nonetheless. She didn't bother to turn on lights as she walked, she could see well-enough in the dark, and she knew the floor plan by heart. Again, she ignored the lights in the living room. She was used to this routine and she could probably do it in her sleep. She grabbed the right DVD and stuck it in the player. By the time she was about to sit on the couch, James walked in. He was clad in only sweatpants, but she had never minded that. She wanted for him to sit down before she tucked herself up against him. His metal arm wrapped around her, and she twitched a little at how it had grown cold already. Still, wearing his shirt, curled up against him, she couldn't see a problem with the picture at all. She already had the remote in hand and she turned on their overly large television. After that the DVD player, and she selected the file she wanted.
"I probably should be worried that you're way of coping with the ballet nightmares is to actually watch reels of you dancing, but I'm not. Because it works." He said softly, resting his chin on her head. She chuckled, it did work. It cleared her mind and let her move on for a bit. So she watched the TV as the old reel fired up and the grainy black and white video played. She had several of the videos, and she'd watch them all at least once before she attempted to sleep or tried to start the morning. It was just something she did.