"No, it's all right," Natasha answered. "Though if you wanted to stay and try to go in again at some point, you should stay. I thought I'd walk back to Clint's place, clear my head. You're welcome to walk with me." It was possibly not the warmest invitation that she'd ever extended, but it was still sincere, and it was about as warm as she was capable of being right now, under the circumstances. She didn't mind Bucky's company; she never had, though she knew they'd be on opposite sides of the line, and soon. Still, there didn't seem much sense in holding a grudge over it. Tony probably would have said otherwise, but she didn't feel interested in holding grudges - not about something like this, at any rate. There were better things to be begrudging about.
Steve had never really been something they'd talked about much, not apart from the night where she'd pulled them both out of Clint's party. She was fine with keeping it that way, because Steve wasn't someone they were ever going to agree about. They looked at him through very different lenses and there was no real middle ground there. It was easier to leave it alone. Fighting wouldn't fix it.
Instead, she breathed in, let the cold air fill her lungs and tucked her hands into the pockets of her long coat, lined with some sort of high-end fabric that got to work on warming them as soon as her fingers made contact.
"I feel stupid about the Avox, too, if it's any consolation," she added. Deeply stupid, a little impressed with Tony, a little bit sad, and something else that tasted a little bit closer to shame on her tongue. It was easy enough to make excuses - they weren't intended to talk the Avox, doing so brought more punishment to them, of course it was a terrible situation, but it was what it was and might as well get used to it - but they felt thin in the face of the simple fact that she'd gotten comfortable with it herself. Living her life in a way where she understood perfectly well how barbaric what happened to them was, how thoughtlessly cruel it was to consider them little more than functioning furniture, but she'd gotten used to it, same as any other Capitol citizen, letting them exist in the background and orbit her life. Tony had done something to help one, at least, and while she'd never employed one herself, she'd been perfectly happy to be waited on by numerous Avox. It was shame. It couldn't be called anything else.