Ava's been doing the best she can, floor by floor, room by room, slipping through the fire and making sure that no one's trapped. If she can't fix this, she can at least help people, get them safe. It's a distraction, keeps her thoughts from her guilt and from her memories.

At least it is until she hears that voice. Not directed at her, someone nearby, but Ava turns to face it anyway, and it takes her a moment. Almost feels like she's caught in some dream at the sight of red hair and the features of the woman's face. Natashka. Some part of her brain is sure it's seconds until the explosions, until she grabs her, rolls them under a fallen weapons locker, the only barrier between Ava and the storm of fire. But no-- she shakes herself out of it, swallowing and trying to not look too shell-shocked.

"I can help," she offers, and despite being very petite there's a quiet confidence to her voice as she moves toward Nat.