Surprise! I had this chapter finished a bit quicker than I thought I would, and it's nice and long, so I thought I'd go ahead and upload it now! Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of their creators, nor am I seeking to make a profit from this.

Chapter 6

Natasha woke, as she had several times in the past few weeks, to someone whispering her name and poking her. If it's Clint, I'll kill him, she thought blearily as she struggled to wake up. After a second she recognized Steve's tiny voice.

"Natasha?" He whispered again.

"What is it buddy?" She replied, her voice thick with sleep. She was on her side facing him so she propped herself up on her elbow, trying not to jostle the bed too much and wake Clint; though, he slept rather deeply, so she didn't worry too much.

"I threw up."

Natasha stifled a groan, and sat up all the way.

"In bed?" She thought she knew the answer, but she prayed it wasn't true – they can't be getting sick, she pleaded to herself.

"Uh-huh." Natasha quietly got out of bed, picked Steve up, careful to avoid the vomit on his shirt and face, and exited her room.

"JARVIS, what time is it?" She asked once she had closed her door.

"Two thirty-seven, Miss Romanoff," the AI replied, its voice much quieter than usual due to the hour. Natasha went across the hall to her bathroom and set Steve down on the counter.

"What hurts?" She asked, pulling his shirt off and putting it in the sink. She wet the hand-towel that was hanging on the wall to her left and wiped his face and neck off.

"My tummy," he rubbed his eyes, and Natasha thought it looked like he'd been crying. She wondered how long he had lain there before he had gotten up to wake her.

"Do you feel like you're going to throw up again?" He shook his head, much to her relief. "Are the others still asleep?" He nodded; she could tell that he was already starting to fall back asleep. She went to the medicine cabinet and found a bottle of Pepto Bismol and gave him about a half of a capful, which he obviously didn't like but took without complaint. Then she picked him back up and crossed the hall again. She lay him down on her side of the bed and kissed his forehead. "Go back to sleep Steve."

She made her way into the boys' room and thankfully they were all asleep and it was dark – save for the faint blue glowing of Tony's chest. She went to Steve's bed and even though she couldn't see Steve's vomit, she could smell it. She mechanically stripped the bed, balling up the sheets and blankets into one pile.

"Natasha?" She turned around and saw Bruce sitting up in his bed next to Steve's.

"Go back to sleep, it's not morning yet buddy." He laid back down and Natasha pulled his blanket back up over his chest, hoping that he'd fall right back asleep. She picked up the pile of sheets and blanket and took it back down the hall to the laundry room. She put the bundle in the high-tech washing machine; she remembered Steve's shirt in her sink and went to retrieve it, adding it to the machine. She quickly added the detergent and fabric softener and started the cycle.

After that was all finished she went back to her room and saw that Clint was still sleeping soundly on his side, while Steve had sprawled across what was usually her side of the bed. She didn't want to move him, so she got a blanket from the hall closet and went to the couch, falling back asleep almost instantly.

When she woke up again it was light outside, but faintly. Dawn. She lay there for a few more minutes, but decided eventually to go ahead and get up. The first thing she did was go and put Steve's sheets in the dryer. Then she went and checked on Steve. He was still sleeping, but he didn't look like he was sleeping very peacefully – curled up tightly and his eyes clenched shut. She went and squatted down next to the bed, rubbing Steve's back.

"Steve? Come on buddy, wake up. Let's get you some more medicine." He woke up slowly, and Natasha picked him up from her bed, letting him wrap his short legs around her waist and rest his head on her shoulder.

"My tummy still hurts," he said. "And my throat."

"I know buddy, I'm sorry." She set him down on the couch, and went to the medicine cabinet again, grabbing the children's Tylenol that Pepper had put in there for this exact occasion. She went back out to the living room and set the bottle down on the coffee table. She went to the kitchen and filled a cup with some cold water before going back to the living room. She went and knelt in front of Steve, and felt his forehead. It felt warm, and even Natasha, who had no real experience with illness or fevers, could tell that he felt too warm. Thankfully she knew what to do, even if she didn't get sick very often – if at all, ever. As she went to figure the correct dosage of Tylenol for someone as small as Steve he started coughing.

"Cover your mouth buddy," she said softly as she filled the cap with the amount recommended on the bottle. "Here you go, drink this." She handed him the tiny cup and he drank it, but made a face. "Hey, it can't be that bad," she said as he handed it back. She put a little of what was left behind on her finger and tasted it, finding it disgusting. She made a face for Steve's benefit. "Ok, it is. But it'll make you feel better, okay?" He nodded.

"Drink some water," she handed him the glass. He took a sip and tried to hand it back, but she shook her head, he didn't look happy about it but he drank more water. "Are you hungry?" She asked when she was satisfied with how much he had drank. He shook his head, and laid down on his side on the couch. Natasha stood up, grabbed the blanket she had been using and draped it over Steve. Then she retrieved the book she had been reading – Frankenstein by Mary Shelly – and sat down next to Steve, allowing him to readjust so that his head was resting on her lap. As she settled into reading her book she could hear Steve's breathing even out again and he fell back asleep. She hoped to god that the others hadn't also caught what Steve had – what she suspected was the flu. Though, she knew that with several children in the same house it was only a matter of time before they all got sick.

Sure enough, a few hours later Tony emerged from his room sniffling and coughing. He came around the couch and climbed up onto it, sitting down and leaning against the side of Natasha that Steve wasn't laying on. "I don't feel good," he moaned. Oh dear god, she thought. She allowed herself a single moment of panic before she locked it away and steeled herself for dealing with five sick kids. One of them must have picked it up at the zoo. . .

"Does your stomach hurt?" He nodded. "Did you throw up," he shook his head, thankfully. "Alright, could you hand me that bottle?" She asked him, not wanting to get up and jostle Steve just yet. He handed her the bottle of Tylenol and she poured the same dose for Tony, and when she gave it to him he made the same face that Steve had made. "I know it tastes bad, I'm sorry, but it'll make you feel better." He finished the glass of water that was still sitting on the coffee table. He went and grabbed the iPad that someone had left on the armchair, resettled himself against Natasha and started up a game. Natasha, thankful that she couldn't really get sick, went back to her book.

An hour later everyone was awake, and, just as she dreaded, all five boys were showing symptoms of the flu. When Pepper had entered the living room Tony had turned on full-pathetic-mode, garnering Pepper's full attention. Natasha had to hand it to him, he sure knew how to act completely pathetic. When Clint had woken up Natasha was still on the couch with Steve, Pepper was sitting in the armchair watching the news with Steve on her lap, his back to her chest, still playing on the iPad while Pepper absently stroked his hair. Bruce was playing with the toy trucks, and Loki was quietly reading Thor a child-version of "Treasure Island" – Natasha had given it to him because it had adventure in it and she thought he would like it, but discovered that he hadn't retained the ability to read. Luckily Loki had no problem reading at all, and read Thor anything that he wanted.

None of the boys had wanted breakfast, but Natasha made them eat some crackers and drink water – always drink more water.

At about four o'clock Natasha, who had been smothered by sick children all day, volunteered to run to the store and buy the boys some more crackers, as those had been the only thing that the boys would eat all day.

"Is there anything else you guys want?" She asked after she had gotten their attention.

"Ice cream!" Tony yelled before dissolving into a coughing fit.

"Don't hurt yourself, and no, ice cream will just make your stomach hurt more." Tony made a pouting face, but Natasha ignored it. She repeated her question, and none of the boys could supply anything that they wanted, and neither could Clint. "Alright, I'll be back in a little bit." She gave Clint a quick kiss before shutting the door and heading to the elevator.

It was a short walk to the convenience store two blocks away. She located the crackers and grabbed two of the big boxes of Saltine crackers.

"That'll be nine dollars and fifty cents." Natasha handed over a ten, told him to keep the change and grabbed the bag. She walked quickly back to the tower as thunder rumbled over the city. It started misting as she entered the lobby and she could see it pouring rain as the elevator doors closed in front of her.

When she made it back to the 80th floor it was quiet, though she wasn't surprised. None of the boys had had enough energy to be noisy all day. In fact, she was fairly sure that half of them were asleep.

She was wrong, however, because they were all gathered around the coffee table with Clint. They were playing a board game, and Natasha could read Sorry! in the center of the board. She'd never heard of it before, but she didn't often play board games. She went and put the crackers in the kitchen, hopefully if the boys wouldn't eat dinner, they'd at least eat some crackers. She went back to the living room and stopped next to the armchair were Pepper was sitting alternately reading a book and watching the boys.

"What should they have for dinner so that they won't have trouble keeping it down and that won't be too painful if they spew it back up later?"

"Soft foods," she replied, dog-earing her page. She stood up and walked with Natasha into the kitchen. "We've got mashed potatoes, or soup, probably soup, huh? Or spaghetti-o's." She opened one of the cabinets and surveyed the array of canned goods. Natasha went back to the doorway to the kitchen.

"Do you guys want soup or spaghetti-o's?" Thor was the only one to answer, with an enthusiastic "spaghetti-o's!" The others replied that they weren't hungry. Natasha crossed her arms. "You guys have to eat dinner."

A few of the made faces, but sure enough they each agreed with Thor that they wanted spaghetti-o's. The next twenty minutes was spent cooking three cans of spaghetti-o's on the stove and filling five bowls full. Clint claimed that he wasn't hungry yet and would eat something later. Natasha made herself and Pepper soup, and together they gathered around the table and tried to coax five sick kids to eat some dinner. It was a struggle but eventually they had all eaten at least half of the noodles in their bowl. Clint and Natasha took the bowls to the kitchen and put them in the sink to be dealt with later, and Clint grabbed himself another bowl and pulled ice cream that Natasha hadn't even known about out of the freezer.

"You can not have that for dinner," Natasha told him. He had just smirked at her.

"Watch me."

"Such a bad example," she muttered. Clint took his bowl into the kitchen but didn't sit down at the table so the boys didn't see what he was eating. Pepper was trying to clean the spaghetti sauce out of Tony's hair – how he managed to get it there was a mystery but not altogether surprising for him. They had had macaroni a few weeks ago and some of it managed to hit the ceiling.

Clint was extremely happy when they had gotten all five boys in bed later that night. They had medicated them, made sure that each of them knew that there was a large Tupperware bowl right next to their beds in case they needed to throw up and that it was okay to wake Clint or Natasha up if they needed their sheets changed again.

He could definitely say that he liked kids, but he did not like them when they were sick. They got clingy, and whiny.

At eleven o'clock he was laying on his side with his arm around Natasha's torso, his other arm under her neck. He couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about Loki and what was to become of him. He still stood by his claim that it was a bad idea to leave him like this, but he and Natasha hadn't talked about it together yet, and he knew that she was torn.

"Tasha?" He whispered against the back of her neck. Her hair, which had grown considerably since the Avengers Initiative a year ago, was tickling his nose.

"Mm?" She hummed in reply.

"What do you want?" She didn't ask for clarification, and he didn't need to be any clearer than that. They both had the subject on their minds all the time, especially at night before they went to sleep. He could imagine Loki's sleeping form in his mind's eye right now, looking completely innocent and so very young. Defenseless.

After a moment she replied, "I don't know. Part of me wants to listen to orders, the other part wants what's best for a man that may or may not have had any choice in his actions. . . And part of me, deep, deep. . ." She paused and took a breath, "deep down doesn't mind this quiet life." Clint was glad that she couldn't see the smile that spread across his lips. She rolled over so that she was facing Clint. There was only the light from the various electronics on the opposite wall that were never used to illuminate the room, so they could just barely make out each other's faces. "I'm a lot older than I look," she rested her forehead against Clint's as he nodded. He knew how old she was, she was born around the same time as Steve. She was also given a serum very similar to Steve's that made her body age at a much slower rate. "I've been going a long time." She didn't say any more for a long while.

"Well. . ." Clint started softly, "even if Loki is returned to Asgard, that doesn't mean that you can't stop whenever you want. We can stop, if that's what you want." He took a deep breath. "I just want you to be happy." Their foreheads were still pressed together and Natasha leaned forward so that she could kiss Clint. "I love you," he breathed. She stopped for a second, took a deep breath, and kissed him again, deeper and with just a little more urgency this time. She didn't say it back, but Clint could tell that she felt the same way. She just didn't know how to express it.

It took three days before the boys all felt one hundred percent better. But, as it would happen, Clint woke up that morning feeling like death warmed over. Luckily, he had five boys who were desperate for him to be better so that he could rough-house with them again, and they were surprisingly accommodating. They were extra quiet (comparatively) so that he could sleep, and they brought him food when he asked.

Natasha was also accommodating, mostly just in that she would cuddle him whenever he wanted.

Two days, and almost a full bottle of Tylenol later, he felt better.

They celebrated everyone's return to health – and Pepper's ability to avoid getting sick at all – with an afternoon trip to the park. It was fairly empty today - a Thursday, but Clint liked it better that way. He didn't feel like he had to constantly have an eye on all five boys at once, and Natasha was even able to relax a little. She even looked happy, he remarked from where he was pushing both Bruce and Tony on the swings.

"Higher!" Loki called, and Clint looked to his right to see Thor putting everything he had – which was a lot considering his five-year-old frame, into pushing Loki higher and higher on the swing.

"Careful Thor!" Natasha called. She stood up suddenly and yelled, "Loki you had better not be doing what I think you're do- oh yes you are." Suddenly Loki vanished from the swing and Clint could see a squirrel flying through the air towards where Natasha was standing in front of the park bench. He flew straight to her and Natasha caught him against her chest. Clint and Thor laughed as Natasha held the Loki-squirrel up in front of her face and admonished him. "You could have gotten hurt!"

"I want to do that!" Tony yelled, but before he could jump off Clint caught the swing as he came back and said, "oh no you aren't. Go play somewhere else." Tony stuck his tongue out at Clint but did as he said and went to the jungle gym where Steve was swinging.

It was then that Clint noticed a woman and her daughter off to the side staring at Natasha and the squirrel that she was still holding. Clint pushed Bruce one more time and went to sit next to where Natasha had sat back down. Loki hadn't changed back and was enjoying sitting on Natasha's lap as she scratched a finger over his small back.

"You're the Avengers, aren't you?" The woman said after her daughter had run off to play. Clint looked at her, assessing. She was older, probably early forties, and looked harmless enough.

"Yeah, we are," he replied amiably.

"And that," she pointed at the Loki-squirrel, "is Loki, that guy that destroyed Manhattan last year?" Clint put his sunglasses on top of his head.

"Yes it is." The woman opened her mouth again, but closed it and sat down on the bench a few feet away from Clint and Natasha's. Clint looked at the playground again, quickly locating all four boys. Bruce was still swinging, though definitely not as high as when Clint was pushing him, and the woman's daughter was swinging next to him. Steve and Tony were going down the double slide, probably racing, and Thor was hitting the tether ball around the pole so fast that Clint hoped it didn't hit him in the head and knock him out. But at the same time he hoped it did, because it would be hilarious.

"Jamie, that's my daughter," the woman said after a few minutes, breaking their silence; Clint and Natasha looked over at her. "She always wanted to meet the Avengers. Little does she know, eh?" The woman chuckled. "I'm Susan, by the way."

"Clint," he replied, leaning over and shaking her hand. Natasha introduced herself, but didn't move to get up to shake her hand. Clint looked and saw that Loki had morphed into a kitten and was curled up on Natasha's lap, fast asleep. "We come to the park and he falls asleep, what the fuck," Clint muttered to her. She grinned and shook her head.

Clint made small talk with Susan for a little while as they watched the boys and her daughter play together. They started playing tag, and their squeals coaxed Loki back into his own skin so that he could participate as well.

At about four thirty they decided to head back to the Tower as the clouds grew darker and thunder rumbled far off into the distance. Thor and Loki both got fairly excited when the thunder started, but Steve didn't seem to happy about it, so they made their way as fast as they could back in order to not upset him.

The next hour was filled with rough-housing as the boys found their second winds and were suddenly filled with energy. Eventually they started to try to do tricks, like flips and cartwheels that ended up just being rolls.

"Natasha watch this!" Steve said as he attempted a "front flip". Clint helped him, thrusting a hand in to hold him up at the last second so he didn't land on his head.

"Nice one," Natasha said, the corners of her mouth quirked into an almost smile. "But do you want to see something really cool?" She asked, gaining all of their attention, and her almost smile became a full fledged grin as they all nodded enthusiastically. "All right, come on." She stood up and led the boys to the elevator. Clint knew that she was an amazing gymnast, and figured that she wanted to wow the boys by showing off. Clint was fine with that, as long as she didn't ask him to spar with her – he didn't feel like being in pain today. They went one floor down to the enormous gym that Clint hadn't been in yet. There was a very wide expanse of padded floor in the middle of the room, and Natasha took off her socks and her jacket and walked into the middle of the floor. "Stay right there," she cautioned when they tried to follow her onto the mat. Clint put his hand on Tony's head to keep him there, the boy was practically buzzing with energy. Clint could now see how he could have the ability to create all of his inventions, if he has as much energy normally as he did now, he probably didn't sleep.

Natasha moved to one corner of the mat and took a deep breath. Clint and the boys watched with bated breath as she started her combination. "Whoa!" All the boys chorused as she hit flip after flip, twist after twist. It really was quite impressive. He told her she should try for the Olympics, but she insisted it wouldn't be fair for the other athletes – "besides," she had said, "I don't feel like beating a bunch of teenagers." Sometimes it was hard to remember that Natasha was actually in her early seventies. She turned around after her last flip and Clint could see that she felt exhilarated, and he wondered when the last time she really got out and practiced her skills was.

"Do it again!" Tony yelled, the others agreeing with him. Natasha did another combination that was just a little more complicated than the other. It was difficult because the ceiling wasn't tall enough to do everything, but she did what she could with the space she had.

"Clint, why don't you show the boys a little something?" She asked, walking back towards them. She wasn't even out of breath.

"Like what? I can't do sh-stuff like that."

"You could spar me," she said, and for a second Clint forgot the boys were even there.

"I don't really feel like losing."

"Oh come on, you have a fighting chance. Do you guys want to see me and Clint fight?" She looked back at Clint with victory in her eyes as the boys all nodded and shouted "YES!" Clint raised an eye brow and leveled his stare at her, but she just looked amused.

"Alright, fine." He took his own socks off and walked out onto the mat. "So how do you want to do – mmf!" Before he could finish his sentence Natasha had him down on the mat, her forearm locked over his throat, her knee over his chest. So it's going to be that way is it? Clint thought, and he grabbed her arm and twisted as he shot up off the ground. They grappled for a few minutes, the boys cheering them on – well, cheering Natasha on. It would seem that she was the favorite.

They struggled for the upper hand but Clint knew that it was over once she got him in her thigh-choke and twisted him down to the ground. He hadn't had a chance, he's just not fast enough, and he accepted that. "Alright, I give," he pounded the mat and Natasha let him go. He sat up, rubbing the back of his neck as Natasha stood up; she offered him a hand and he took it quickly pulling her down and trying to pin her, but she was on top of him once again. Clint scowled up at her as he heard the boys laugh hysterically from the edge of the mat, she just gave him a satisfied smirk in reply.

They were almost done with dinner when JARVIS's voice interrupted an epic – and entirely fabricated, Clint suspected - story Loki was telling about Asgard. "Agent Coulson is in the lobby."

"Tell him to come up," Natasha replied.

After he was stabbed on the helicarrier, it had been touch and go for about a week. Coulson had lost a lot of blood and the wound was big and very bad. Any other man may have died, but Coulson pulled through, and after six months of rest and physical therapy for his left arm and shoulder he was back on light duty. Now, one year after his injury he was back on full duty, doing anything and everything SHIELD needed him to do.

When he arrived to the 80th floor he knocked once, but then opened the door and stepped in.

"Hey Phil," Pepper said standing up and going to give him a hug. She and Tony had visited him a lot in the hospital and they had gotten to be pretty close friends.

"Hello Pepper," he replied, pulling back from her hug with a smile. He looked over at the table and greeted Natasha and Clint.

"Are you hungry? We've got leftover chicken," Natasha said gesturing to the open chair at the end of the table.

"No, thank you, I ate dinner earlier. Hey guys, you probably don't remember me," he said addressing the boys, all looked at him with vaguely confused looks as they chewed their food; Tony was the only exception and he cried "Agent!" through a mouthful of chicken.

"Close, but I'm Phil," he said, smiling and ruffling Tony's hair.

Clint eyed Loki, who had put down his fork and was looking warily at Coulson, as if he was feeling something that confused him – perhaps deep-seated guilt? Clint frowned. That certainly seemed to confirm the theory of Loki's mind control forcing him to stab Coulson, as well as the other atrocities that he committed when he first arrived on Earth. He looked at Coulson, who was still smiling, but looking at Loki with something that Clint couldn't quite figure out in his eyes. He almost looked forgiving.

A bit later after Pepper and Natasha put the boys to bed, Coulson asked Pepper if he could talk to Clint and Natasha alone, and she went to Tony's office to finish some paperwork.

"Well aren't they adorable," Coulson said, sitting back in his chair, sipping his diet coke.

"You say that now, but you didn't see them all with the flu at the same time," Clint replied as he poured himself a generous serving of rum and ginger ale.

"What brings you here?" Natasha asked, leaning her elbows on the table. Clint sat down next to her, swirling his drink around in his glass to mix it.

"Well, I wanted to check up on you two. I know this hasn't been easy on either of you, but it seems like you've been doing a pretty good job." Coulson paused. "I also wanted to talk to you about Fury's mission for you." Clint frowned and glanced at Natasha, her face was still neutral. "The scientists working on this case aren't close to figuring out a solution – frankly they don't even really know what to look for. Magic is entirely out of our understanding. But Fury wants to make sure that everything is in order just in case there's a breakthrough, and if you two don't agree to keep Loki afterwards, Fury wants to know so that he can make other arrangements."

Clint couldn't hold himself back. "But what Fury doesn't understand is that this is not going to work." He threw back the rest of his drink, set the glass down and leaned forward. "There is zero chance in hell that Thor and Asgard are going to allow us to keep Loki if we have him detained, he may be a wanted criminal everywhere but he's still a prince where he comes from and I'm sure that they have some kind of protocol for that. Plus, the reason he got a screw loose in the first place was because he found out he was adopted and that his life was a lie. What are we going to do that would be different? Raise him up with him knowing that he accidentally de-aged himself and that when a cure or whatever was found that we kept him here, instead of letting him go back home where his real family is? Where he really belongs?" Clint stopped, took a deep breath, and looked at Natasha. She looked almost approving, and Clint hoped that she was going to take his side, because there's no way in hell that he'd win this argument if it was just him. "I can see why Fury wants to keep him here, he's a threat to not only this country, but this world, and maybe even this universe, or realm or whatever, but this goes way beyond us. From what Thor's told us, Loki hasn't even been back to Asgard to try to work through his daddy-issues since he crash-landed wherever he found the Chitauri.

"And that's another thing," Clint interrupted his own train of thought, "Loki was working for them and he was tasked by them to get them the Tesseract – I know because he told me when I was brainwashed – and he failed. What if they come back for him? What if they find a way through to this world again and they not only destroy Earth but they take and kill a Loki that can't even defend himself? What if they take him and raise him up their own way and make him even more evil than he was under their control the first time?" When Clint finally stopped silence reigned in the apartment.

When Coulson finally spoke it wasn't what Clint thought it would be. "So you believe that Loki was being controlled by the Chitauri?"

Before Clint could answer Natasha had started talking. "Yes, sir, we do. How else can we explain why Loki hasn't caused any real harm since the first attack? And how else can we explain his sudden change in temperament after he got smashed around by the Hulk? Clint's eyes were electric blue when he was being controlled, and so were Loki's when he was threatening me on the helicarrier. If you look into the eyes of the child in that room over there," Natasha pointed to the boys' room, "they are bright green."

Coulson nodded, and sighed. "Well that's a bit of a relief, if it really is true" he said. "It's kind of nice to know that the man who almost killed me didn't do it of his own volition."

"Sir?" Clint said, speaking for the first time since his rant. "Do you have anything to say about anything that I said?"

"Oh, I completely agree with you. So does Agent Hill. I will talk to Fury, give him all those reasons that you gave me and see what he has to say. He may be director of SHIELD, but he's not the be-all-end-all on decision making." Clint chuckled, and blew out the breath he had been holding.

"Thank you sir."

They chatted for a little while longer, Coulson filling them in on some things that they had missed at SHIELD, Clint and Natasha telling him some of the more memorable moments with the tiny Avengers and their adversary. Eventually Coulson departed, though, and Clint and Natasha were left sitting at the table, side by side.

"I am on your side," Natasha finally said, quietly. "It's my instinct to do my duty, but I agree with everything you told Coulson. Keeping Loki here just won't work." She looked over at him, and gave him a small smile. Clint's own smile was smothered by Natasha's lips as he went in for a kiss.

Sometime that night Clint woke to soft voices. Natasha was speaking to one of the boys in a soothing tone, probably one of them had had a nightmare. When he responded to Natasha's murmuring Clint recognized Loki's voice. He had fallen asleep curled around Natasha, but now he was on his side facing the other way. There was more murmuring and then the mattress dipped as Loki climbed in next to Natasha. He heard rustling as they settled down. He vaguely noted that Loki had become much more attached to Natasha lately, and she was showing signs of actually feeling something for him. That could be a problem. . . Clint thought.

He was slipping back into sleep as he heard, "Good night Natasha," and a barely audible, "Good night Loki, you're safe, I promise."

Please review! The next chapter is a big one so I can't wait for Tuesday so y'all can read it! I just need to finish writing it first. . .