It felt quiet, suddenly, the three of them standing there awkwardly in her apartment after Natasha had locked the door behind them. The weight of what it was they were all meant to be doing right now, maybe, or just the fact that up until now, Natasha had been operating on momentum, on compartmentalization. A swift move from point A, to B, to C, and so on, and there hadn't been room for anything that didn't lend itself to efficiency to creep in around the edges. And now there was nothing to be done but to let the two of them spend an uncomfortable night in her apartment until they could swagger out in the morning.
Though really, it wasn't Natasha's first time navigating an uncomfortable night under less than ideal circumstances. Didn't have to be something she thought of as too much different from any other job, she supposed, though at least this time, everyone's clothes would stay on.
Her phone was silent in her bag. That wasn't a surprise. She knew that Clint couldn't really send messages right now, not when he was the star of the whole event. The silence, though, it grew and grew until finally, she brushed her hands together briskly, as though she was gearing up to wade back into battle. Though she was corralling two people who didn't seem to have a whole lot of fight in them for arguing with her right now, but still, they'd responded to a firm hand.
James was still touching her, his hand settled at her hip like she was keeping him on balance. That seemed like a good place to begin. "Okay," she said, no-nonsense in her voice, marshaling the moment as easily as she had back at the party. "James, my room is down the hall, the second door on the right. It's the biggest bed and you'll be more comfortable there. There's a green bottle in the top drawer of the nightstand - take three of the pills in it." It was nothing Capitol engineered, just an herbal sleep remedy from District 7 that she'd bought for when Wanda had come to stay, a way around giving her hard Capitol sleep aids but still being able to offer some help, in case she'd needed it.
"And no arguing," she told him, a little more gently. "You need someplace where you can go mellow out and relax. Practice breathing. It's a nice bed and the pills will help, and the master bath is connected to the room if you want a shower. Steve, there's blankets and pillows in the chest behind the couch. All yours. There are drinks in the refrigerator and there's another bathroom down the hall. If you have anymore questions than that, ask them in the morning, because tonight, I could really give a shit about anything else."
The kitchen wasn't far; either they'd do what she said or they wouldn't, but she needed a minute to herself regardless as she started walking towards the other room. So she could take her phone out of her bag, so she could text Clint an apology that the words were too pathetic for and didn't come close to summing it up. Maybe put coffee on for herself.