A soft but distinctive click echoed through the room and Steve's shoulders slumped with relief. He stood quickly, offering both hands to Natasha with a worried expression still plastered over his face. It could be a trick, the door locking again before they could get out, but they had waited a good long time, and suffered the punishment for inaction. And he'd even cut Natasha in the end. Surely they'd be able to get out?

"Come on. That was the lock. I wanna get you to medical supplies ASAP. I don't trust this place not to be full of nasty infectious germs just floating around, waiting to pounce. No open wound is a good wound in this hotel. It's not too far to the suite, I promise. I have some painkillers in the kit too if it's really bad." Not that he didn't think her capable of enduring much much worse. He knew Natasha could push aside almost any injury, he'd seen her do it. But that didn't mean he thought she had to.