[ Glancing up at him briefly, she notices the way he rubs at his hand and wonders if it's the usual way he expresses his discomfort. Everyone has their tells, even the best spies, and she'd rather learn his from the start so she knows when to back off and offer whatever he needs, be it space or comfort. She'll need to learn that too. ]

Of course, you are. Growing up, you and the others were the stuff of comic books, but now that I know the monsters you faced and the horrors you survived, I understand how much you really deserve the title. Because look at you — still standing, still helping people.

[ She stuffs the pill bottle back into the backpack and pulls it up onto her lap, her hands gripping hold of it like it's a security blanket. He's not the only one who has things that are hard to talk about. ]

And I do understand. A little. More than most. What it's like to be used by someone who only sees you as a tool... to have your mind rewritten so you don't fight it.