Deflecting his concern should have been easy, second nature to her at this point. Toss out a flippant remark, smile vacantly, and blend into the background until no one bothered to dig too deeply. However, it was clear that she hadn't been convincing enough, a reminder that she wasn't dealing with the easily distracted Jane.

It grew harder to keep her emotions in check. She lowered her gaze, but could still feel his own burning into her. Darcy was typically more on point, but she wasn't used to dealing with trauma. She'd been able to compartmentalize the attacks in New Mexico and London, mostly because they'd been something out of a terrible D&D campaign.

It was much, much more difficult to brush away the deaths of actual human beings, even if they'd wanted her dead.

"Just bruises," she mumbled, feeling the first sting of tears threaten. Angrily, she clenched her fists briefly, nails digging into her palm until the tears disappeared and she could look up at Bucky again, the effort having taken an obvious toll.

"Can't say the same for that computer." A touch of levity, getting her feet back beneath her again, no matter how badly she wanted to collapse into a pathetic puddle. A smile twitched at her lips. "We did good, didn't we?"