Natasha. Oh. Is he supposed to be relieved? It's hard to say -- he and Natasha have an odd relationship, and after he came back from Arkham, Bruce hadn't exactly been looking to repair any long-standing damage between them; it hadn't seemed all that imperative. He doubts she's looking out for Bruce so much as she's looking out for Clint, and that's okay; God knows he needs it. Bruce is frankly always afraid of the day that Clint will just disappear on him like he did to Phil. Bruce knows what that need might come from, but god, he doesn't want to be alone.

"Well, that was kind of her. I'll have to send her a fruit basket one of these days." He'll have to do a lot more than that, honestly, and he's still thinking about that when he pulls the file over and opens it. He tugs his glasses out of his pocket and starts to read... There are pictures, and he rifles through them, and he turns until he can lean against the table.

"What is this, Clint? Is he -- is he alive? Is that what this is?"

And if he's alive -- then what?