insurgents | OPEN POST.

Natasha's focused in a way that few people are capable of. It's not superhuman, but it's close enough to the edge that she imagines some people think she must be. When she's in the field, she becomes a different person or maybe she becomes herself, but she doesn't really spend much time reflecting on the more abstract concepts of her true nature.

The point is that something is moving closer. It's a person, probably male, and it's moving directly towards her. She takes quick mental stock of what's on her and the myriad of things that a rogue HYDRA operative might have on them. She doesn't want to make it clear that she knows that she's being approached, though, so she keeps moving, watching in Bruce's direction out of the corner of her eye. She manages to catch his movement a few times on his approach, but not enough to tell who he is yet and the gun in her hand is ready to be aimed at him as soon as the time is right.

Bruce figures he's not exactly the most quiet person, even if he tries his best to move slowly, one careful step after the other. In the dark, it's hard to make out the figure until he's standing closer, when he can tell it's a woman, but it's still a few more steps before he recognizes her. Or thinks he does, anyway.

It's enough to make him stop on his tracks. Now more than ever he thinks of turning around and leaving, but she would definitely hear him. She likely has already, actually. He just can't figure out what she's doing here. Was she sent to find him, bring him back? His eyes fall to the gun, but he knows— he thinks he knows she wouldn't shoot him. She knows there would be no point anyway, and besides, even after everything that happened, he still trusts her not to do that. Which might be stupid of him, but anyway.

Hoping that hearing a voice come from the dark won't be enough to trigger a violent response from her, Bruce whispers silently, which still seems a little too loud in the silence of the night. "Natasha?"

The sound has her gun moving before her brain even catches up and it's aimed right at his head for the briefest moment before she lowers it carefully.

"Bruce." Her voice is low, because the last thing they need is anyone else's attention drawn to them right now. She moves swiftly towards him, gun still in hand.

There are a lot of feelings threatening to bubble to the surface, but she's well-practiced at locking them away. Right now, she needs to keep Bruce safe. She's got a mission here.

"We have to get you out of here."

Bruce almost makes a remark about patterns. Something about history repeating itself— he remembers her pointing a gun at his face just like this once, and it's funny how it takes him back to when they first met now.

It doesn't scare him, though, nor does it bother him. He picks up on the urgency in her voice and actions quickly anyway, so when she steps closer, he's already shoving the emotional reactions down, saving them for a time when she's not in a (seemingly justified) hurry to leave.

"What's going on?" She probably doesn't want to waste time explaining, but he's going to ask anyway, even as he moves along to wherever she'll direct them, trying to be as quick and silent as possible while keeping up with her.

Raising a finger to her lips, she doesn't answer right away. She can't hear anyone yet, but that doesn't mean that no one's out there. Likely, they're just not close enough for her to hear yet.

"We're probably not alone." There's a hushed quality to her voice as she tightens her grip on her gun and inclines her head to the right, sure that he'll follow her lead. For all that's happened between them, she knows that he's not stupid. People coming after him never spell anything good for him. His best case scenario is her and she's already standing here.

It's all Bruce needs to know, really, and he doesn't say another word, just nodding to let her know he understands, and slowly he follows after her. He likely lacks in stealth when compared to her, but he tries to make sure each of his steps are as quiet as can be, and constantly lets his eyes drop to the floor as to not step on any branches or piles of dry leaves.

Which is kind of difficult while trying to keep his eyes on Natasha as he follows her through the woods, while trying not to let even the faintest sound of the breeze hitting the trees send his heart racing in his chest.

Maybe he should turn. He avoids it at all costs these days, but maybe it's their best bet to get out of here safely.

OPEN POST.

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