Suddenly, he was awake. 

"Natasha." His voice came out strangled. 

She turned over to face him. She smiled at him sadly. "Nightmare?"

"Yeah," he responded. He swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat. He looked at her. She was there. She wasn't dead. It had been a nightmare. She wasn't dead. She was okay.

She stroked his face with her hand, and he couldn't stop himself from shuddering. This was her. She was alive. She wasn't a ghost. She was okay. 

"Clint," she murmured. Her voice was soft. He was so scared.

He gripped her hand. He squeezed his eyes shut and he tried to forget. His hand traced hers, and settled on her pulse. He pushed all the fear away and tried to only feel her pulse. The steady beating which told him she was alive. He breathed with the rhythm of her heartbeat. In, out, in, out. She wrapped herself around him, and he could feel her breath on his neck. He breathed with her breaths. In, out, in, out. 

He was calmer now, the fear had subsided. Her finger traced patterns on his bicep and her breath tickled his neck and her pulse beat against his fingers.

Author's note: What a chapter spam, huh?