She doesn't actually answer the question that Sonia asks, that first one. Instead, she lets the tone of Sonia's voice be answer enough. Natasha just sighs in muted not-really-exasperation, shrugs her shoulders in a what else could I have done? sort of way. The real answer is more that she would have gotten her out of there, gotten her safe if she'd had to carry her there herself.

Watching her, the way she curls up on the cot, with her arms around her knees, it's familiar in a number of ways she doesn't want to talk about. But that why simple as it is, is harder to ignore than the first question Sonia asked. Nat leans against the wall, watching her softly for a moment, and her voice is quiet when she speaks, but still and even.

"Because once upon a time I knew a girl that was taken, not because of who she was but because of what her name meant. And I'm just not overly fond of how those stories tend to go."