She had tried to put herself in Tony's particular position, before she had offered. Flipped it around to consider what she would have wanted if she had been the one who'd arrived here straight from Wakanda, and one day, a five-years-past Tony had showed up to tell her she'd landed in a future she never could have predicted. Natasha had never thought too much about whether or not she wanted kids; what would have been the point? Why go poking around at skin that didn't look marred on the surface to figure out if there actually was a painful bruise blossoming somewhere beneath it? Her life was hardly set up for it anyway, so - what would have been the point in potentially propping a door open for pain? So - no, it wasn't quite like Tony, who'd known for a long time what he wanted.
But she'd considered it anyway. If a five-years-older Tony had shown up and said you've got a little girl, Nat, she's a perfect thing, smart and sassy and she looks like you didn't even bother to throw anybody else's DNA in there to make her, she's you in miniature, the way she'd told him. And the only answer she had been able to come up with was yes.
Yes, she would want to see that child. She would want to know. She didn't know if it would be able to mean anything, but if there was the option to look, to hear stories, she would want them even if it came at a cost.
She hated it a little bit, knowing that would have been her own answer. She thought it went a long way to understanding the tone of his voice right then. "Should we stop for a minute?" she offered, still quiet, still careful. "Adventuring will keep, we could just...sit out here. And look together. Or hold off, whatever you need."