The apartment was quiet and still with the exception of the soft dull tones coming from the TV downstairs.
Natasha hadn't quite been ready to head to bed, and had instead opted for perusing her car choices yet again with a hot cup of coffee to distract herself. Her afternoon had been spent sitting on the couch with her fingers laced with Maria's, who had a hard time shaking off the flashbacks after their trip to the supermarket.
It had been oddly comforting not only for the brunette for also for Natasha. While linking fingers with another person wasn't unfamiliar to her, the sensations that she felt was something she didn't quite understand. There was an easiness to it she couldn't identify and as much as she didn't want to admit it, there was a rare flutter occurring somewhere in her stomach.
It had been drilled into her from her early days in the Red Room project that love was for children, and wasn't a concept that was necessary in her line of work. It would only act as a means of exploitation. So it was locked away inside somewhere for so long that Natasha wasn't sure it even existed within her anymore.
Until Maria took her hand.
She paused in her thinking and her comparison of two cars to listen carefully; Maria was having a nightmare. Depositing her laptop off to the side, she made a beeline for the stairs.
Maria was twisting under the sheets and even from the doorway, she could see a sheen of sweat.
"Maria," Natasha said, trying to shake her awake gently.
Her attempts were thrown out the window when after several minutes, the brunette still didn't wake up. She simply moaned and whimpered louder, and shook harder.
"Maria, wake up. Come on, it's just a bad dream. Maria," she spoke louder and shook a little harder.
"No, please," she begged to her tormentors.
"Maria!" Maria seemed to wake from the nightmare and sat bolt upright. Her eyes were frantic and Natasha could see the fear running deep in the brown eyes. "Hey, hey. You're okay, you're at home."
Reflexively, Maria's arms wrapped themselves around Natasha's shoulders and the younger woman paused momentarily before letting her arms snake around Maria's ribs to hold on tightly. They sat there on the bed for a few minutes and she could feel just how soaked the brunette's tank top was.
"You're okay," she whispered.
Maria pulled back, after she had calmed down enough to realise that she was hugging an assassin. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
"It's okay. Really I don't mind. Are you okay?" Natasha asked, with a kind smile and a hand cupping the side of Maria's face.
"No," she whispered. "I can't keep doing this."
"Doing what?"
"Every time I close my eyes, I see them again," she said as her eyes glazed over. "I see them giving me the burns or I'm tied to a chair and they're interrogating me again. I can't sleep and I can't eat. I can't be in public spaces without being bordering panic attacks. I can't keep doing it. I'm so tired, Natasha."
Natasha could see the pure exhaustion and fear in the woman's teary eyes. She let her fingers brush the hair back from her face.
"How do you do it?" she asked.
"Honestly?" Maria nodded into the hands that were framing her face. Natasha took a second before she answered. "You know what I do. In order to do my job, I have to emotionally manipulate every person I might possibly come in contact with. I was trained to put myself in a position because my target wanted me there. I know what to do, when to do it and why it has to be done. I guess I can emotionally manipulate myself, compartmentalise. Years of training and even now sometimes I struggle."
"Are you emotionally manipulating me?" Maria asked, through slight hiccups.
"No. I've been through things so I can understand more easily. That is all." Despite her history, the question still stung. "You need to sleep, Maria."
"I can't sleep, Nat. Every time I close my eyes…" she drifted off.
Natasha felt an unusual flutter at her shorted name.
"I have an idea." Maria looked at her wearily. "You know how you said in the supermarket that holding my hand gave you something to keep you grounded?"
"Yeah."
"How about we try that here. I'll hold your hand and I'll stay right here, while you sleep. I won't let go."
"Why are you doing this for me?" Maria asked.
"Because I never had anyone who understood or who could help," she muttered. "We don't have to, it's just an idea."
She began to rise from her seat on the edge of the bed, but there was a hand on her wrist. "Stay? Please?"
Natasha simply nodded and made her way around to the other side of the bed before getting in. Rearranging the pillows behind her, she laid down on her side facing the brunette, who mirrored the position. Almost hesitantly, as if it were the first time they had done it, Maria reached out for her hand.
She obliged with a smile and offered her opposite hand, leaving her right one free to calmly and soothingly stroke Maria's cheek.
"Go to sleep," she whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise?"
"I promise."