It's her scent that gets him, even more than her touch. He feels foolish for not catching it before, for being overwhelmed and deceived by his unfamiliar surroundings that he couldn't latch onto something he knew so intimately. Even without the obvious smells of soaps or conditioners, he knew the smell of her sweat and skin like a perfect memory. He couldn't live with someone or fight by her side for years without memorizing her.

The touch of her fingers on his arm only solidified that feeling of familiarity, the thought that maybe there was a way out of this sickening mess. If she was here, they could find a way out.

"Natasha?" Matt whispers, not caring that they aren't lovers anymore and haven't been in ages. He reaches for her cheek, just to touch her, to confirm that his radar isn't faulty. Now that he can focus on her pulse, he knows it's really her, but he wants to be certain. He's been fooled before.