Gee, thanks for that, Natasha. Steve looks around at the sound of her voice, eyes widening slightly on her but no less assessing for that; they flick, oddly, to her hair, and whatever he sees there makes him frown. Pretty rich coming from a guy who looks less like the Star Spangled Man with a Plan than a refugee from a dystopian future, which— well.

"Found you," he says, with military honesty — which isn't to say that it's at all what she asked, or that there's no sentiment to the fact. Thank god he's plenty easy to read. "How long have you been here?"

Not where are we or how the hell did we get here, just... how long. Probably telling in and of itself, somehow.