Clint sighed a little. At least he'd gotten his five minutes. Sort of.
He sat up and looked around. Definitely not their home. Or the Rogers, or the mansion, or anywhere else he recognized. The bed also wasn't theirs, too small, though he supposed that made sense if the room wasn't theirs either. He spied a crib next to the side of the bed he'd been sleeping on and peered in to it. Maria. He could see the rise and fall of her chest but it wasn't...right. He knew her breathing patterns, when she slept especially, and this was different.
"No idea. Something is weird." he slid out of the bed and placed his hand on Maria's chest, rubbing a little bit. The panic started to rise now. "Can you wake him?" he asked, doing his best-but failing a little-not to sound worried. That always woke her up.