Last spark from the ashes

Even with relief flooding her system Natasha doesn't smile. She's forgotten how to be happy. How to have hope. The wounds of her world bleed too freely yet for any kind of lighthearted banter.

Still.

With one less weight pressing so heavily on her slender shoulders Natasha stands a little taller. Less apt to collapse under everything she's taken on. Her gaze slides to Ghost before she reaches up with a hand to shake.

"Of course. I understand if Nike won't forgive me. Or you, Ghost." Steve treats the little bots as if they're people unto themselves. Has for years. Natasha doesn't know for sure but in the absence of half of everything she's been feeling lately like it's worth being possibly naive to treat them that way.