His description was sodden with blood, with the lives of the insignificant who, despite their insignificance, had lives and loves and things they thought important. She listened to that reference to conversation that roared, drawn back into herself in spite of herself inch by inch and the color beginning to bleed back around her mouth. It was still set, still unsmiling.
"But they must be trying to stop him." It didn't surprise her she knew nothing. Information ran in rivelets from one person to the next, the whole contained. But she couldn't think Tony or Steve could tolerate collateral damage that was catastrophic. "Why wouldn't they trust you? You know as much as they. By the sounds of it, more."
She looked at him, this man who offered to lay secrets down on the table like a hand of cards won in a game. It was a gesture, and she recognized that he held them tightly when offers like these weren't made. "Yes," she said, quietly and her eyes were steady but shuttered, grave. "If you're going to learn mine. And those that don't belong to me."