She shrugs him off, the movement angry enough to be almost violent. She's good at biting everything down, swallowing it and not screaming about it anymore.

But it's Alex. Alex, whom she thought dead. Alex who came back, and he had to say, I'm sorry, Natasha.

I'm sorry.

She stumbles back towards him, clinging to his overcoat.

"I can't," she starts, but the rest of her words are swallowed by sudden, harsh sobs.