Natasha took the seat; watching Steve as he input the coordinates. The woman listened to the things the man was saying. Nodding slight, as he began. Bucky had been through his own nightmare, and the Russian woman wasn’t sure which was worse. Awakening without varying moments in time, and being solely taken over as a weapon and very little else. Or being molded into a weapon, for a society that cared little for the individual. Living to see all those she’d cared about, age with time-- living lives filled with joy and happiness that she knew could never be hers.
When he spoke of her, manner, of dealing with the past, the current, and all in between; she merely nodded slight. Say without words, that he was right. Sharp inhale of breath, and then holding it in her chest, as she attempted to remember the last time. But with the exhale shook her head slightly once more. “To be all honest, Steve.. I don’t know.” Everything tended to blur together for the woman. Only, individual moments stuck out to the assassin. Moments with her now, family- the Avengers, and moments alone with those she loved. Everything else flowed together, a constant stream of action, fighting, surviving, in order to bring peace to the collective world. Her individual.. Peace.. was what she sacrificed many, many years ago. And she’d long since accepted it.