"The last time I was forced outdoors it was in the frozen Tundra with five other girls and enough supplies for one of us, so no, you can say I'm not a fan." Her reply is more snappish than she means for it to be but she's tired, and she's unsettled. She isn't used to not having a goal or a purpose, the reasons that she has for opening up to Jasper so candidly are the same ones that are tearing her apart inside. She feels useless here. Pathetic. Pointless, as if she's simply wasting space. Despite all of that she still manages to give him an apologetic look, and instead of pushing on she moves to stand and disappear back into her room.

It's the mention of his family that reminds her of it, and when she comes back it's with a cuff that holds a strange crest on it, one that she personally isn't familiar with and that's saying something. "This is yours." She moves to him and holds it out, keeping a decent distance between the two of them because, not only is she stranded in the middle of nowhere, she's stranded with a man who can't stand being around her when she gets too close. These moments with Jasper are the most intimate that Natasha has ever had, just two people with no connection to the outside world. Yet she's certain she's never felt loneliness like this.

"I found it in the lab I got you out of, I forgot to give it to you, I'm sorry." She sets it down on his window sill before she returns to her couch, pulling her bare legs up and hugging her knees close to her chest. Natasha wets her lips, uncertain as to whether she should just leave him be and lie awake in her own room, but before she can think too deeply about it she speaks again. "It's your family, right? The crest?" She searches his face. "I can tell that you wore it a lot."