"promise?" "promise."
The Tower was quiet, as it often was in these late night hours. The only sounds were the gentle hum of machinery and the soft footsteps of Natasha Romanoff as she paced the halls. Sleep evaded her tonight, as it did most nights. The life of a spy and Avenger allowed little rest for the weary.
So Natasha wandered, checking security systems and perimeter alarms more out of habit than necessity. FRIDAY kept a close watch, no dangers would approach unnoticed. But the rituals brought a strange sense of comfort, reminding Natasha that she was home, she was safe.
These rituals also allowed her to avoid the one place she dared not go - her own room. The bed called to her, beckoned her to rest. But rest brought only nightmares, visions of ledgers dripping red and pasts that could not be erased. No, it was better to walk the halls, to tire her body so that when sleep finally came, it would be dreamless. Or so she hoped.
Natasha paused, realizing her steps had taken her down the hall of private quarters. She stood outside one door in particular, listening. Silence greeted her. Natasha nodded in satisfaction. The boy was sleeping peacefully it seemed. Good. He needed the rest.
Peter Parker carried the weight of worlds on his young shoulders. He had lost so much, endured pain no teenager should have to face. But he persevered, stronger than any of them. Natasha's heart ached for the boy who wore the mask, who hid his fears behind quips and humor. She saw herself in him, in the sleepless nights and restless days. The least she could do was ensure he rested when given the chance.
Natasha moved to walk away when a blood-curdling scream pierced the silence. She whirled back, heart racing. The screams continued, torn from a throat hoarse with terror. Peter! Natasha burst into the room, senses on high alert. But the room was empty, no dangers present. Only the boy himself, twisted in sweat-soaked sheets, crying out in the grasp of relentless nightmares.
"Peter!" Natasha rushed to the bed, hesitating before touching his flailing limbs. She had to wake him, ground him back to reality. But she knew well the disorientation of being ripped from a nightmare. Peter could lash out, his strength formidable even in sleep.
"Peter, it's Natasha. You're safe. It's just a dream." She kept her voice low, firm but gentle. She grasped his hands, pinning them down before he could hit out blindly. "Peter, wake up. You're in Avengers Tower. You're safe."
With a gasp, Peter's eyes flew open, wide and unseeing. His chest heaved as he struggled for breath, limbs fighting against Natasha's hold. She kept her grip, speaking calmly, repeating his name and location until finally, finally, his wild eyes focused on her.
"Nat?" Peter's voice was small, broken.
"Yeah Pete, it's me. You're okay now. Just breathe."
Peter drew in a long, shuddering breath, then another. His hands relaxed under hers. Natasha let go, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"I...I'm sorry," Peter rasped, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Just a stupid nightmare. I didn't mean to-"
"You have nothing to apologize for," Natasha said firmly. "We all get them. Do you want to talk about it?"
Peter hesitated, then haltingly described the images that had haunted him - Natasha falling from the sky, broken and bloodied. Steve and Tony and the others all around her, unable to reach her in time. Peter himself trapped and helpless, forced to watch her die.
"It was so real," he whispered, fists clenching in the sheets. "I couldn't...I couldn't save you."
Natasha's heart constricted at the pain in his voice. This boy, so young, yet already losing so much and so many. It was cruelly unfair.
"Peter." She cupped his cheek, turning his face toward hers. "Pete. Look at me. I'm right here. Alive and safe. It was just a dream."
Peter gazed back, eyes glistening. Slowly he lifted a hand to cover hers where it rested on his cheek.
"I know. I'm sorry, I just..." His breath hitched on what might have been a sob. "Everyone keeps getting taken from me. My parents. My uncle Ben. And when I saw you fall in that dream, I couldn't...it was too much."
Natasha felt tears prick her own eyes. She pulled Peter into a fierce embrace, tucking his head under her chin like a child. But he was a child, forced by fate to be so much older than his years.
"I've got you, little spider," she murmured. "I'm not going anywhere."
She held him as the shaking subsided, until his breathing steadied once more. Only then did she pull back, brushing wet strands of hair off his forehead.
"I'm sorry for waking you," Peter mumbled, not quite meeting her eyes. "Guess I'm not handling this hero stuff as well as I should."
Natasha let out a soft chuckle. "It may surprise you to know that you're handling it better than any of us did at your age."
She tilted his chin up, forcing him to look at her.
"And as for waking me up, I hate to shatter your illusions, but I wasn't sleeping."
Peter's brow furrowed in confusion. "What? Why weren't you sleeping?"
Natasha hesitated. She didn't often share the dark recesses of her mind. But something about this boy brought out her protective instincts. If baring her scars could help ease his, then so be it.
"Honestly? I have trouble sleeping too. Bad dreams." She gave a wry smile. "Occupational hazard, I suppose."
Peter's eyes widened. "But you always seem so..."
"Put together?" Natasha supplied with a quirk of her lips. "It's a good act. But the truth is, nights like these I end up wandering the Tower, trying to avoid my own dreams. Not the healthiest habit, I know."
"Nat..." Peter grasped her hand, his earnest eyes brimming with concern. "You should really try to sleep. Lack of rest can seriously mess with your health. Not to mention your reflexes and performance in the field."
Natasha couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her. "Only you would scold an Avenger about their sleeping habits. But you're not wrong." She ruffled his hair affectionately. "Tell you what, how about I stay with you until you fall back asleep? That might help keep the dreams away for both of us."
The relief shining through Peter's exhaustion made Natasha's heart clench all over again.
"Would you? I mean, you don't have to, I'll be okay." Even as he downplayed it, his grip on her hand tightened, belying his need for comfort.
"Nonsense. Scoot over."
Peter obliged, shifting to make room on the narrow bed. Natasha slid in beside him, letting him nestle close to her side. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, fingers stroking through his curls.
"Try to sleep, little spider. I'll be right here."
"Promise?" he mumbled, already drifting off.
"Promise."
Soon his breaths deepened into sleep. Natasha continued carding her fingers through his hair. She stared into the darkness, keeping watch, vowing no more dreams would torment him tonight.
Only when she was certain he slept soundly did she allow her own eyes to drift shut. And surrounded by the warmth of the boy who had become family, Natasha finally slept in peace.