"Why the hell are you all over my news feed?"
He closes the door behind him with a thud, his words becoming less muffled he unwraps the scarf from his face.
"I thought it was a mistake, but there you were again. And then I was getting shot at. And my car was blown up."
The worn out combat boots are slipped off unceremoniously, tossed by the base of the counter, and he shrugs out of a jacket that screams its purpose was disguise, hanging it over the back of the armchair.
"It was a rental. Good thing no one expects fugitives to pay up."
Metal touches the back of his head, recognizable as the barrel of her gun, and he lifts his arms slowly, turning to face her. No one gets to pull a gun on him in his own damn apartment, but he refrains from mention it again- she should know that by now.
Her piercing green gaze is staring him down, searching his face and his mind, and her lips are drawn into a thin line. The mask is on so he sizes up her overall appearance, opting not to comment on the fact she looks like shit, or the fact she's wearing his clothes.
He shifts his hand, slowly pushing the gun to aim not at his forehead, and it's a second before she recovers, flicking off the safety and jabbing his skin.
"Say it," she growls. Her voice is quiet enough that he can't quite read her emotion, though the flash of tremble in her hand doesn't escape his notice. "Please," she adds, even quieter.
They've both had a rough few days and this reminder extinguishes the flame of anger at her distrust. What it was like for him, alone in the wastelands, it was like for her, drowning in rubble and screams.
"I'm not Hydra." He spits the last word, Satan on his tongue, and she lowers the gun to her side.
Relief floods the tired lines of her skin.
He takes a step closer, into the focus of her faraway look, and rests a hand on her shoulder.
"Nat," he whispers, and she goes to pieces, collapsing into his familiar chest and burying her face in his cotton tee. He wraps his arms around her, angry at the remaining scents of blood, betrayal, and fear, and releases a breath he thinks he's been holding since he first saw her name trending on Twitter.
She doesn't cry, but he doesn't let go.