The armor had done what it was initially designed to do; it had kept him from being shot up or otherwise inconvenienced by massive hemorrhaging. JARVIS had even confirmed that he had no massive internal bleeding, which he counted as a small miracle. No whiplash, no concussions, no psychological trauma...the armor was battered beyond belief, but he was alive to fix it.
He made a half-hearted noise at her suggestion; yes, probably, but he was here in the Jacuzzi and how much cleaner could he get than being int he water and with jets thundering across his skin? He didn't want to stretch or reach, didn't want the slippery tile underfoot, and he was quite content to not move for awhile.
She really should have quit while he was just making vaguely interested noises because it was something idly interesting while he was thinking about it. He could have thought about it while he was awake, and then fallen asleep and forgotten all about it.
Instead, she spun out a completely plausible scenario that had him blinking and looking up and slightly over his shoulder at her. "Huh," he said as he considered it. Show people exactly what he looked like after battle, exploit his popularity to generate publicity and give the money to those who really deserved it because h'd indirectly hurt them? "I like it," he announced. "Draw up the paperwork to form the charity and take some photographs of my ass." Okay, it was his back more than his ass, but she's blush and she was adorable when she blushed.