He puts his breakfast plate down. Something about what she'd said hits him awkward, something harmless that manages to strike the bone just so.

Optimistic. She thinks he's optimistic. He sure as hell hasn't felt optimistic about anything for what feels like forever. From the world to the senator to the capital building to the Bat to Luthor to Doomsday.

To being here, with his world destroyed.

There's an inclination to cover the fact that that'd stung, but he shoves it away. He's lived and worked in all manner of places, met and dealt with and done his best to help all kinds of people. If there's one thing he's learned, it's that there are people who want to be lied to, and people who can't stand it. Jessica, he'd figured out very early, was in the latter category, and to do that would be endangering the entire friendship. She couldn't be who she was with him if she had to worry about whether or not he was hurting inside. If it hurt, he had to show it.

It hurt. He showed it. Closed his eyes and pulled in a breath.

Once he's settled:

"It's just a guess, Jess. I don't know any better than you do. I'm just going by the information we have."