He stiffened at the tug of her hands at first but relented after a minute and allowed himself to be pulled into her. It was a bit awkward, him well over a foot taller than her, but they managed. That was what they always seemed to do though - manage. Except that dynamic was firmly rooted with Steve being someone he wasn't even sure he was anymore - a person who seemed to get further and further away every day. He could fake it, he could put on that he didn't feel so damn close to the edge all the time and hell some days he even bought it himself. It was always there though, just one bad week away, the sinking realization of just how not okay he was.
Natasha was right, he'd been running himself ragged. He could more than feel the weight of it as he leaned into her and his body begged for him to just let go. And even as he seemed to do just that for a moment it was short lived as he snapped back from the moment.
He shook his head a little at her words. He wanted to tell her that he couldn't. That stopping would mean he had to think about how bad the past week had gone, and how entirely screwed up he was that he couldn't find it in himself to care about the two deaths they way he should. Stopping let the intrusive thoughts that were at beyond the normal self doubt find a hold - I'm no use to anyone anyways, sleep or no sleep.
“I'm - “ he started and stopped abruptly. He knew without a doubt she would hit him if the next word out of his mouth was fine. “I'll go up and sleep,” he settled on instead. He was fairly certain trying to do much else would be a losing battle. He made no attempt to move though, because, well, it was kind of nice with her arms around him and his head resting against her shoulder.