"We'll never know since none of us can time travel," Matt shrugs, not having the energy to get into a what-if scenario contest with Nat tonight. He could argue he would've been okay - hurting up a storm by tomorrow, but okay - and she could argue that someone could've pulled a gun or they could've just dogpiled him and that could be hours of back and forth. Nothing he can say will change her mind.

Matt holds still as she kneels, the familiar scent of peroxide wafting down with Nat. He angles his leg toward her out of habit. They're both angry and at this point, he knows there's probably a good reason she's here and he's taking out his frustration out on her. That's the logical side talking. The other side's pissed she's here taking charge, withholding info, and if this is about the Punisher, he can't help but wonder if she came with a sniper rifle of her own around.

He wouldn't put it past her: she seemed to find his no-killing goal to be almost...quaint.