"Hey," Tony interjected before Loki could turn the heat on and make this situation go from intolerable to sweltering and intolerable. Here he thought he'd be babysitting a couple of adolescent gals eager to see their boyfriends and instead he had an immortal getting his sticky fingers on everything. There was no excuse for that, how old was Loki? Tony's last warning was a raised finger, last chance, before he turned this car around and...backed over Loki or something, he wasn't sure yet, there weren't a lot of options out here. He was trying to focus on Coulson.
"Wick, sweetheart, I'm sorry to do this to you," he said as he gingerly lifted Coulson's legs to climb in with him and let him stretch out across Iron Man's lap, "but could you take the wheel again?" She was the only one with extra hands enough to keep Loki in check and keep her eyes on the road, however hard Loki tried to drive them off by touching whatever he could find. However creepy, those ghosts did have their uses. "We have to get him to Wanda," Tony muttered to no one in particular, patting Coulson's thigh apologetically as he examined the rebar splint. There wasn't anything better they could do for him here. Regrouping, he promised Wicked, "I'll explain on the way." After all, she was an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and there wasn't much use in keeping a dismantled prison a secret anymore.