It makes a terrible kind of sense that Deadpool would be the one person she'd be comfortable being candid with. Not terrible because of who Deadpool is, but because of the reality that some part of her subconscious is able to assess the situation and relax because he is who he is. He is, ironically, a safe person to talk to, and because of his own desire to keep the mask unable to ask for the same in return.

"Apparently," she offers him a small, tired smile that doesn't quite make it to her dark eyes.

When she looks around the room, it's the first time she's been able to consider the fact that they are surrounded by actual people. People who are under the influence of strange powers and working through their own battles. "They don't deserve to have to pay for my lack of control. Whatever else is going on."

She reaches out briefly to rest her hand briefly on his shoulder. "I hope you keep your secrets. At least until midnight."