It didn't take long for Natasha to take control of the situation, directing Bucky to her own bedroom with brisk efficiency, even including a list of amenities that might help him unwind. What was far more surprising was the fact that she included Steve in the offer. That was more than he deserved (an assessment he was sure she'd agree with) and Steve stayed quiet, head down as she spoke, not meeting anyone's gaze.
When she had laid out all of the need-to-know information, she disappeared into another room, leaving Steve alone with Bucky, who looked absolutely wiped. Now was obviously not the time for a chat, and so Steve pulled him into a quick, tight hug, giving his shoulder a squeeze when he shifted away. "You need anything, you let me know, okay?" he said, then gestured at the couch. "I'll be right here."
Once Bucky was gone, Steve spent a few minutes getting a pillow and a blanket from the chest Natasha had indicated, and once that was done, he took a deep, deep breath, squared his shoulders, and headed for the kitchen, where Natasha had disappeared. She was curled over her phone, and the scent of coffee was beginning to fill the room.
There was no question that she'd clocked him as soon as he'd come in, so Steve didn't bother to clear his throat or otherwise announce his presence. "Natasha?" he said, his voice so soft it was almost hoarse, or maybe that was because his throat was dry, causing the words to stick in his throat. He swallowed, but it didn't help much.
"I - thank you," he said, which wasn't nearly enough, but he didn't know what to follow that up with. Words felt cheap, and there was too much between them for a simple thank you to mend anything. But that was all he had, so he offered it anyway. At least then she'd hopefully know that he recognized that by stepping in, she'd saved him and Bucky a world of trouble.