Never in a Million Years |N.R|

|13| Stay.

For the next week I slept in Natasha's bed, although she came up with an excuse every night to hide the true reason. She'd call it a sleepover or a girls night, when in reality sleeping beside her was the only way I'd sleep at all. I usually had a nightmare every night, but they were much less severe so long as she was there to comfort and reassure me. She saved me from the torment every time, and in the space of just a week we'd grown much closer, although my feelings were hard to understand.

Despite both of us knowing the true reason for my sleeping with her, neither of us had admitted this to the other. It was the unspoken truth and it just hung in the air between us, both of us knowing it but a little unsure as to whether the other person did.

I'd woken up from a nightmare, which wasn't a surprise, but by some miracle Natasha was still fast asleep beside me. I must've awoke before I had the chance to scream or even murmur. My skin was clammy with sweat and my shirt clung to it. Almost silent I slid out from under the covers and padded into the bathroom, closing the door behind me quietly. There was only a click as it slipped into the lock.

After standing with my back against the door for a few minutes, desperately trying to catch my breath, I headed towards the shower and turned the water on. I made sure it was cold, almost freezing, before quickly stripping my damp clothes off and stepping under the stream. I shivered instantly, my body dealt a wash of cold, but I revelled in the release it gave me from my foggy mind.

After a few minutes of staring at the ground blankly, the cold of the water became too much and so I quickly stepped out of it in search of warmth. That came from the warm and fuzzy towel that I wrapped around my body, hugging it into my sides with my underarms. Crap, I'd forgotten a change of clothes.

Taking a deep breath I opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the eery darkness of Natasha's room. I was met with silence so I assumed the redhead was still fast asleep, just as I'd left her. So maintaining my silence I walked over to the dresser, but just as I went to open the drawer I so stupidly looked up into the mirror that hung above. I'd avoided mirrors for as long as possible, ever since I saw myself in the one in my bathroom. Now I just dropped my gaze whenever I passed them.

But now I was frozen, my eyes locked onto the array of scars that littered my chest alone. Some were tiny, barely noticeable, whilst others were pure white and pronounced. Especially the one in my shoulder from Clint's arrow, a harsh reminder of how bitter sweet the place I now called home was. I could feel the panic rising in my chest at the sight, at the memories that flashed behind my eyes with each scar I took in.

Before I could slip away into a full on panic, my breath and heart beating fast but not too erratic, I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist from behind. At first I tensed in response to the contact, but in realisation of who it was I sunk into their hold. Although I couldn't kick the confusion. Why was Natasha hugging me like this? And then I became painfully aware of the fact that I was only donning a towel. Her hands were intertwined, rested dangerously low on my stomach as she pulled my back against her. Our bodies flush together.

"Why didn't you wake me?" She whispered into my ear, her voice still laced with sleep as her chin now rested on my shoulder. I could feel my skin heat up at her contact, somewhat embarrassed by how good it felt to be held by her like this.

"Oh, I uh, I didn't want to. You deserve the sleep, especially after how many times I've woken you up this week." My head hung slightly at my answer, embarrassed by just how evident it was that I needed her. I didn't feel safe otherwise.

"Y/N we've spoken about this. I care about you, and that means that I'm here whenever you need me. Never suffer alone in an effort to save me from the trouble, because it's no trouble at all. I want you to be okay. Okay?" I had no idea what I was thinking, but I stopped leaning against the dresser to clasp her hands in my own.