"Nebula's here," Natasha confirmed. "No Rocket, though. I kind of miss him, too. And you're right, he does hate that." It had been quite the motley team Natasha had cobbled together to reform the Avengers on the other side of the snap, Clint and Thor lost to PTSD and grief, Tony off with his family. Rocket, Rhodey, Nebula, Okoye, and Carol had done well, though. They'd worked hard, they'd had faith and commitment and loyalty to each other, and there was no higher praise Natasha could give than that. She missed them too, sometimes; of all the ways she wasn't proud of how she'd lived her life after the Snap, she was proud of them. Proud of her team. She wished she'd gotten a last chance to tell them.
And his words didn't spoil her sense of peace. Most of the time, it was a tenuous peace at best, but she tried not to be too mired in that. It wasn't something she wanted anyone else to have to carry, and it was the sort of thing where there was no real way through it other than through it. She'd be on the other side eventually.
The kids who got dusted didn't age, though, that tugged on something in her heart. There were only three kids she could think of that would have been at that funeral aside from Cassie and Morgan. And thinking of Morgan on that day was painful enough. But it was a good thin. That was what she had given her life for, so Clint could have that exact thing back. So he would be okay. He was, and they were. She'd loved those kids, too, though. Not even just because they were his, she had loved them, and she had missed them in the last several years. It was a good thing to know they were safe, even if she'd never see them again.
"Kids are tough," she agreed. "Those kids in particular. And I'm glad that it seems like they're doing okay. Thanks for letting me know, Scott. Seriously."