War was a terrifying prospect and the fear of it was something that they certainly had in common - Kitty and Sean and likely many, many more. It hadn't been part of any real war, flying into Cuba. That had been more like a battle made necessary by the hope that another war could, in fact, be averted. Still, that had been enough to tell Sean that he didn't really want to ever be involved in a war that wasn't 'cold,' if it could possibly be avoided. Scare tactics were a way of life, as far as he could tell from his own experience. Direct conflict was something else all-together and the idea of the enemy potentially being this great unknown from, of all places, outer space? He found that at once both hilarious and disconcerting.
"You're a mutant," he stated, simply and honestly. "Whatever happens, all the people I know in this room tend to agree on one thing: we take care of our own. We're all pretty used to no one else doing it anyway." Sad but true, that was perhaps the most pessimistic yet determined of sentiments that Sean had let himself express since after Shaw's attack on the CIA. No one was going home - no one was going back to being feared, hated, afraid - and no one was ever going to have to face any of that alone ever again.
"Anyway," he said, tone shifting, slightly teasing but still candidly honest, as he caught Kitty's eyes with his own, "you walk through walls, remember? I have a hard time seeing how that could possibly not be helpful."