Natasha's been in some truly weird situations in her life. Too many to even count. So even though her head is spinning, she's already trying to catch up. She shifts position, moving into a crouch that she can get easily out of. Her surrounds are - more or less normal, even if they're not where she just was only seconds ago. And it's night.

Her eyes fall on Bucky, studying him in silence for a moment. The length of his hair, the stubble on his jaw. What he's wearing. The unusual color of his prosthetic arm.

"I could say the same thing to you."