Bruce reacts to his solitude by closing up, withdrawing even further; he hardly ever speaks to himself. No, what he's doing here is awkwardly trying to draw another in to his thought processes, a rusty memory of doing that with Betty guiding him. Bruce is bad at explaining himself but sees the necessity of it here, and as always, finds it far easier to focus on the practical than on the human element.

His focus abruptly sharpens to a fine point on that human element at what she says, though. There's a few seconds of tense silence, awaiting his response, as his thoughts align themselves. Bruce can't gainsay anyone's desire for revenge or justice or whatever they want to call it-- it's their attempt to regain power, basically, and his whole life has been one long attempt at regaining power. He knows it. But he also instinctively disapproves of watching someone he cares about, for whatever misguided reason that is, break themselves down with violence.

He's not sure that's what she's saying here. Hayley's been vague, likely deliberately so.

"It's not my decision," he agrees neutrally, the bland composure that returns to him a more dangerous sign than any apparent display of feeling. "It's yours and Tony's and whoever else was killed. I'm willing to help if I agree with it." Carefully not committing himself to anything unilateral, trying to draw her out into revealing her hand before he reveals his. Bruce doesn't think this conversation is trivial; not at all. It's a foreshadowing to an inevitability-- they will catch him eventually, and what happens afterward needs to be addressed now.

Without a change in tone but deliberate, weighted, he asks, "What do you intend to do?"