"War Machine," Jessica said, half to herself, having to think to place the name. She didn't know him, but she knew of him. "Severed his- oh my god. I'm- it is wholly inadequate but I'm sorry. That's horrible."

She'd considered whether to tell him what happened to Peter, and was now decided on not yet, or at least not now. It would be nothing but piling on, like some kind of ghoulish competition to see whose superhero fights ended in the worst collateral damage, who had the most angst, and she didn't need to play and she didn't need to make like she needed to instruct him on consequences. Clearly, he knew from consequences.