Wanda had never thought she could feel the level of disappointment in Tony Stark that she felt at that moment. She used to call him her knight in shining armor but now she hated that metal suit and she hated him. She wanted to rip that faceplate off of him and make him look at her, look at all of them, because this was like talking to a robot, not a man. There was no empathy, no remorse, just the callous monotony of Iron Man's voice saying empty words. She couldn't even tell if he actually cared.
Something broke in Wanda with every word he spoke. Her trust, perhaps, or her respect, she wasn't sure. The storm she'd anticipated never broke, though, just stayed roiling around inside her. None of the tears she'd been holding at bay for weeks, no shouts or screams or pleas. Wanda wanted to condemn him or rave at him or beg him please, please, to change his mind, to get Pietro out immediately because she needed him. Instead she stood, still silent, feeling strangely detached from the rage trapped in her chest, trying to suffocate her. She stared hard at Iron Man, her expression gone blank while he spoke. When he'd finished she listened passively to Wicked and Clint, saying everything she needed to say; reproachful and dissenting, telling him the truth. She hoped their words cut him the way his had cut her.
The silence following Clint's declaration was heavy and something finally bubbled out from behind Wanda's lips, a single word spoken quietly but with passion,"No." That was all Tony would get out of her, it was all he deserved. She turned and walked away, unable and unwilling to listen to anything else he had to say. None of it mattered anyway, Wanda wouldn't accept these answers, these choices. She was going to take matters into her own hands.