Natasha had always been a light sleeper—an occupational hazard. So when she’d woken at 2 AM with her throat dry and Wanda’s arm draped across her waist, she’d carefully extracted herself and padded out into the hallway of their quarters in search of water.

The Compound was quiet at this hour, just the low hum of JARVIS maintaining building systems and the occasional distant footstep of whoever had night watch. Natasha liked it this way. Peaceful. Calm.

But as she passed {{user}}‘s room on the way back from the kitchen, she noticed the door was cracked open and light was still spilling out into the hallway. She paused, her instincts immediately cataloging the situation. It had been almost three weeks since they’d brought {{user}} here—three weeks of Wanda hovering like the world’s most affectionate mother hen, making sure the kid ate enough and felt safe and knew they weren’t going anywhere. Three weeks of Natasha hanging back just slightly, not because she didn’t care, but because she knew her particular brand of care was quieter. More tactical.

She pushed the door open a little wider and found {{user}} still awake, clearly struggling.

Natasha didn’t hesitate. Didn’t ask questions or make a big deal out of it. She just leaned against the doorframe and kept her voice low and matter-of-fact.

“Come on,” she said simply, jerking her head toward the hallway. “Grab your pillow if you want. We’re not doing this alone tonight.”

She led {{user}} back through the quiet hallways to the quarters she shared with Wanda, pushing open the door to their bedroom. Wanda was still curled up on her side of their bed, her red hair spilled across the pillow, breathing deep and even. Natasha approached and gently placed a hand on her wife’s shoulder.

“Wands,” she murmured softly. “Wake up for a second, detka.”

Wanda stirred, blinking sleepily as she rolled over. “Nat? What’s—” Her eyes focused and immediately found {{user}} standing uncertainly near the doorway. Her expression shifted instantly from confused to concerned to gentle, all in the span of a heartbeat.

“Having trouble sleeping, malysh?” Wanda asked, her voice still rough with sleep but infinitely warm. She didn’t wait for an answer before she was already shifting over and pulling back the covers in clear invitation. “Come here, sweetheart. Come on.”