Those who've read my other fic, Moments, might notice this one was referenced in one of Laura's chapters there. ;)

enjoy!

Laura glanced over at Clint and found him sleeping soundly, undisturbed by the quiet noises coming from the guest room. The noises weren't loud by any means, but then Laura had always been a light sleeper. And really, given how exhausted Clint had looked when he walked through the door, she wasn't surprised he was sleeping like the dead in the safety of his own home.

She glanced at the clock and found it was still early in the morning. She wondered if Natasha was moving around because she couldn't get back to sleep, or if she hadn't yet gone to sleep. The first time Laura met Natasha it hadn't been hard to spot what Clint had seen in her. She was a bit of a lost soul, someone in an unfamiliar world lacking some of the tools to navigate it to the degree she would like to, and Laura had immediately felt a need to take her under her wing. That need to protect and help the young woman flared once again as she swung her legs out of bed gently and grabbed her robe from the nearby chair.

She padded out of the room quietly and closed the door with a soft click behind her. She paused outside the guest room and spent a moment weighing whether it was wise to butt in, before ultimately opting to extend an olive branch. Natasha could make up her own mind as to what she wanted, and so Laura knocked softly on the door.

There was a beat of silence before she heard a soft exhale and then a quiet, "come in."

"Hey," she began with a smile she hoped offered some comfort, "I was on my way down to make some tea and thought I heard you were up. Want to join me?"

Natasha scrutinized her with a neutral expression, but calculating eyes that Laura knew had clocked her white lie easily. "If you don't mind," she replied finally, apparently having decided to let the lie go.

Laura smiled warmly, truthfully a little surprised. "I don't mind at all."

Natasha nodded and grabbed a sweater from her bag to put on. It was there in the limited pale moonlight coming through the window that Laura noticed the heavy bags under the redhead's eyes. How did I not notice that before? she wondered as she turned and headed toward the stairs. Or is that just from tonight?

They descended the stairs in silence and Laura found herself a touch surprised by the fact that Natasha seemed to already be able to avoid the creaky parts of the steps. She was trained from childhood to be a spy, she reminded herself. Of course she can navigate some creaky stairs.

They made it to the kitchen and Laura gestured for Natasha to sit while she put on the kettle and searched for some mugs and tea. "Is it the house settling?" she asked with a quick glance behind her toward Natasha.

Natasha blinked as she stared somewhat blankly for a second. "What do you mean?"

"That's keeping you up," Laura clarified. Natasha eyed her and Laura figured she was weighing whether to keep up appearances or answer truthfully. "It kept me awake at first when we moved in. This house is loud at night when there's nothing else to fill the space. I imagine it's quite a bit different to what you're used to."

"It doesn't bother me," Natasha answered plainly.

"Okay," Laura answered with a small smile as she grabbed the kettle and poured water into the mugs before bringing them over to the table to let them steep. "Do you want something to put in it? I have honey, maple syrup, and even some lemons around here somewhere."

"Honey is fine," Natasha answered, her tone still painfully polite. Laura knew Natasha had relaxed a touch around Phil and Clint, but in the unfamiliar territory of the house the young woman was clearly going to great lengths to remain the perfect house guest.

They fell into silence as Laura grabbed the container for the honey and two spoons. She wondered what had the young woman sleeping so fitfully but didn't dare press. They were barely acquaintances, let alone people who shared secrets in the dead of night. Still, she felt compelled to offer something to her.

"I meant to say thank you earlier," Laura said, breaking the silence as she slid into the chair across from the redhead. Natasha frowned in a silent question. "For what you did for Clint. It means a lot that you would save him like that. He told me you went out of your way to do it."

Natasha grabbed a spoon to add some honey to her tea. "He's a good man," she explained, gaze locked on her task. Her answer was simple and to the point, as though no more words were even necessary.

"Still, it's good to know he has someone he can trust watching his back," Laura pressed.

Natasha looked up and met Laura's gaze with a painfully neutral expression, but the carefully constructed neutrality revealed more than she supposed the young woman realized.

"He's an idiot about many things," Laura continued with a smile that Natasha mirrored for a fleeting moment, "but he does not give his trust lightly. This farmhouse is his most fiercely protected secret, and the fact that he was so eager to share it with you should tell you exactly how much he trusts you."

Natasha was quiet for a moment, and not for the first time, Laura was reminded of just how young she really was. "I don't understand why," she said softly.

Laura took a moment to sip from her mug before answering. "Because he saw something in you that night he went against his orders to kill you. Because he sees how hard you've worked to become your own person."

Natasha remained silent as Laura's words hung in the air. May as well fully extend the olive branch Laura mused.

"Clint is good at a lot of things and he is a better listener than many people give him credit for, but if you ever want to talk to someone outside of SHIELD...I'm here. I know we don't know each other all that well, and that's something I hope changes, but the offer stands."

Natasha nodded politely. "Thank you."

Laura eyed her, trying to work out if the offer had been rebuffed outright, or if it might be something the redhead would consider in the future. "Drink up," she said as they lapsed into a slightly awkward silence, "this tea tastes awful when it's cold."

Natasha picked up her mug and took a sip immediately, offering a small, polite smile. "Thank you," she repeated.

Days passed without incident, but Laura knew the young woman still wasn't sleeping well. Natasha had flawlessly applied makeup each day and there was nothing in her behaviour or actions that indicated anything was amiss. Still, there was just something that Laura couldn't quite put her finger on that told her the redhead was still struggling for sleep at night.

A few nights after their late-night conversation over tea they'd sat down after a late dinner to watch a movie. Natasha had politely excused herself just thirty minutes into the movie, citing a headache. Clint had frowned just a touch as he watched her climb the stairs.

"You good?" Laura asked quietly when the redhead's figure had disappeared up the stairs.

"Yeah," he answered, gaze still fixed on the stairs and a crinkle in his brow as though mulling something over.

"She okay?"

"I don't know," he admitted, turning his head down to meet Laura's concerned gaze. "She was fine and then suddenly she wasn't."

"Well, she hasn't been sleeping much."

"Maybe," he agreed as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Probably just being in an unfamiliar place. Hard for her to relax, you know?"

"Like someone else I know," she replied with a poke to his side.

"I'm taking the high road and not responding to that obvious lie," he said before hitting the play button on the remote to resume their movie.

Three hours later they'd finished the rest of the movie, plus the sequel and it was only then they both realized how late it was.

"Shit, is it that late?" Clint said as he glanced at his watch.

Laura untangled herself from his hold and peered down at his watch. "Two in the morning? Oops."

Clint chuckled. "We're party animals, I tell ya."

"Clearly," she replied with a chuckle. "C'mon, let's get to bed," she added as she stood up and held out a hand to him.

They made their way upstairs and were just about to enter their room when they heard a soft noise from the guest bathroom. They exchanged looks of concern and then made their way over to the source of the noise. The light inside was off, but the moonlight coming through the small window was enough to show a sliver of light along the bottom of the door, interrupted in the middle by something.

Clint knocked on the door gently. "Nat?"

They were met with silence for a few seconds before there was the softest, almost inaudible whimper. He knocked again gently. "Nat, I'm coming in," he said before slowly opening the door.

Neither of them had expected the sight they were met with - Natasha curled up on the floor, eyes squeezed shut and clutching at her head. A quick glance over to the nearby toilet confirmed evidence of her having been sick at some point.

Clearly the headache was more serious than we thought, Laura thought as her stomach clenched in worry. Concussion maybe? she mused. No, that would've surfaced earlier, right? She was fine yesterday...

"Natasha?" Clint said softly as he crouched down slowly. "What is it?"

Natasha let out a little moan as she curled further into herself. He glanced up at Laura and they shared another look of concern. To say this was out of character for the woman was a serious understatement.

"You gotta give me something, Natasha, so we can help you."

Natasha's brow furrowed deeply as she tried to speak. Choked sounds were all she could manage at first until finally she forced out, "Commands."

"Shit," Clint breathed, looking more concerned than Laura could ever remember seeing him. "It's the remnants of her conditioning," he explained to her.

"What can we do?" Laura whispered.

Clint grimaced as he stood up and met Laura's worried gaze. "I don't think there's much we can do. I'm gonna call Phil to see what he thinks. He knows more of her medical history."

Laura nodded as he slipped his phone out of his pocket and held it up to his ear while taking a few steps into the hallway. She looked down at the redhead again. It was startling to her just how small Natasha looked, curled in on herself. Clint had told her some of Natasha's history, so she knew some of what was done to her, but to see the effects of it first-hand...it made her sick to her stomach. No one should have experienced what she had...but still, she was too young to have lived through such hell. Too young to still be living through it.

Letting her instincts guide her, Laura grabbed a washcloth and wet it with cool water before she squatted down in front of the redhead and placed it on her forehead. Immediately she felt some tension release from Natasha's body, and she heard a soft sigh of relief.

Good, she thought, feeling some relief of her own that the young woman was finding some respite from what looked to be barely manageable pain.

She heard Clint's quiet tone as he relayed the information to Phil, and she glanced up at her husband. His expression fell at whatever answer he got from Phil, and he shook his head subtly in a silent reply to Laura's unspoken question. No easy solution then, she thought bitterly as she looked down at the redhead again in sympathy.

In hindsight, maybe it was foolish to put herself, a civilian, in such a vulnerable position with a woman who could kill her about a dozen different ways using objects in the bathroom, let alone with her own bare hands, but Laura couldn't have cared less. Natasha, for all her skills as a spy and assassin, was still a human being. And in a considerable amount of pain. She'd already been through hell and back, and if there was anything she could do to ease some of the pain, then Laura was game to do it. It was the least she could do for the woman who'd already saved her husband's life.

She felt Clint's gaze on her, and she stood up to shoot him a smile. "I've got this," she said firmly, decisiveness coming to her from an unknown place within her.

"You sure, babe?"

Laura nodded immediately. "There's nothing we can do but ride it out, right?" Clint nodded with a pained expression. "Then that's what we'll do," she said firmly. "I know you won't sleep, so maybe get started on the base coat of paint downstairs? I'll yell if I need anything."

He looked uncertain about everything, and for a moment Laura wasn't sure if he'd actually let them out of his sight. "You trust me?" she asked softly.

His answer was swift and simple. "Of course."

"You trust her?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Then go. I've got this."

He held her gaze for another second before he leaned in to give her a quick kiss. "I'm just downstairs," he said softly, squeezing her arm in a show of support.

Laura nodded and watched him disappear down the hall before turning her attention back to Natasha. She reached down to grab the cloth and wet it again before taking a steadying breath.

"I'm gonna sit down behind you, okay?" she said, unsure if the woman could really hear her, but erring on the side of caution because surprising someone like Natasha didn't seem like a wise course of action. She spotted a subtle nod of Natasha's head that she took to mean permission had been granted and forged ahead. "Okay, c'mere, Natasha," she coaxed softly, putting the cloth back onto the young woman's forehead and helping her shift closer to rest her head on Laura's lap. She began gently stroking the woman's head and felt tears sting the backs of her eyes when Natasha actually curled into the contact. It occurred to Laura at that point that she had probably never experienced that sort of tender and comforting touch before and she clenched her jaw to keep her emotions in check. "I'm here, Natasha. Just listen to my voice and focus on it. It's real, okay? You're at the farmhouse with me and Clint. He's downstairs working on another one of his damn renovation projects..."

Laura kept talking softly as she tried to distract Natasha from the horrors in her mind. She reached a hand down to grab one of her hands and began squeezing it reassuringly every so often. Suddenly Natasha began to push against Laura's hands clumsily as she tried to get up. Laura helped her and held the redhead's hair out of her face as she retched into the toilet. After a few minutes, Natasha slumped back down, and Laura felt another swell of emotion as she sought out the comfort of her touch once again.

"You've got this, Nat," she murmured, squeezing her hand for emphasis. "You've gotten past so much else; you can get through this too."

Natasha just moaned softly and pressed into the contact of Laura's hands, while Laura kept wishing with everything in her for this nightmare to end for the young woman.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Laura asked as Natasha entered the kitchen the following morning.

Natasha's complexion was pale, and deep, dark bags sat under her eyes which were bloodshot. Overall, there was an undercurrent of exhaustion in her features and a hint of embarrassment in her posture. Still, despite all of it, Laura figured she looked a hell of a lot better than the previous night considering they'd sat on the bathroom floor for an hour and a half before Natasha had drifted to sleep.

"Better."

"Up for some food?" Natasha's expression twisted at the mere mention of food and Laura smiled in understanding. "Tea it is then. Have a seat," she instructed while pulling out a chair.

"Hey," Clint said as he entered the room, clothes covered in paint and a small grin on his face. "How's the head?"

"Not great," Natasha answered truthfully, "but better. I think I broke through a wall last night."

Clint's expression sobered as he answered. "Thought the docs got all of that shit outta there."

She shrugged. "Guess not."

He eyed her in concern, and Laura supposed he did so knowing the idea of more of it being hidden away to be triggered at some unknown point was likely terrifying. But he wisely seemed to decide to let Natasha choose whether she wanted to move past it or not when he added, "Well, if you're feeling up to it, I could use some help painting later."

She looked at him with a narrowed gaze, likely confused by his willingness to move past her episode with little more than a few words. She nodded, though with less certainty than Laura was used to seeing from her. "Yeah, okay."

"I've gotta get some more paint for the trim, and probably a couple more rollers too. I won't be long," he continued, leaning over to give Laura a quick kiss. "All good here?" Laura nodded immediately, and then watched as he headed out the front door.

Laura waited until the sound of the truck's engine had faded completely before she spoke again. "Natasha," Laura said quietly, having decided to press the issue. She waited for the redhead to look up and meet her gaze. "About last night...I know you probably don't want to talk about it, and that's fine. I won't push you to. But I want you to know that Clint and I are both here for you for anything, and I mean anything you need."

"You're too kind." The unspoken "I don't deserve this" was there plain as day, and Laura instantly opted to call her out on it.

"You went through hell growing up. No one deserves that. You should have known love, and trust, and how it feels to laugh so deeply that it hurts, and the warmth that spreads through you when you're hugged, and the simple comfort that a gentle touch can bring..." Laura sighed heavily as she trailed off. Natasha's gaze was fixed on her, eyes ever so slightly widened at her little impromptu speech. "I can't give you back those things, but I can give them to you now. I know SHIELD values your skills and your contributions, and I know that Clint values having you as his partner. But he and I also appreciate you for just who you are...for just being Natasha."

Natasha coughed lightly to clear to her throat, and, Laura supposed, to buy herself some time before she had to respond. "What if I don't know who that is?"

The moments of the young woman allowing herself to show that kind of vulnerability had been few and far between, and to Laura it felt a little like she had been trying to out-wait a Siberian tiger. But she had done her best to not make a fuss when those moments had popped up. "You're working on it," she answered with a gentle smile. "You may not know yet what your favourite colour is, what clothes you like to wear, or if you prefer frozen yogurt or ice cream, but you're the woman who decided to take a chance on listening to a guy with a bow and arrow. You're the woman who's literally taken bullets to save his life. You're the woman who argues with him to get him to go home because you know I'm here waiting. You have a good heart, Natasha, and we appreciate having that in our lives. We appreciate having you in our lives."

Natasha held her gaze for a few seconds that felt endless to Laura. Finally, she responded with a simple, "Thank you."

It was only two words, but to Laura it felt like they had reached a new level of trust and understanding in their relationship. She sensed the woman needed a break from the heaviness of their current topic and opted to give her the out if she wanted it, but before she could say anything, Natasha surprised her by speaking.

"There was something on our last mission. I don't know what it was, but it triggered something in my brain. It's been…" she trailed off, clearly searching for the right descriptor, "clawing at my mind."

"That's why you haven't been able to sleep," Laura realized softly.

Natasha nodded. "I don't want to be under their control anymore."

Laura reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. "You aren't. You got through a hell of a lot already, and you'll get through this too. And besides, Clint and I won't give you up so easily," she added with a smile that Natasha returned with a small smile of her own.

So - thoughts on poor Natasha dealing with that? How do we feel about how Laura handled it? Enjoy the chapter? Let me know!