Without thanks, or even a hint that he was aware of all the care Happy took, Tony went along with all of Happy's corralling with an air of routine and being entirely in control of the proceedings. Easy, not exactly compliant, like he had convinced himself Happy wasn't caring for or corralling at all, just acting on Tony's wishes. The only noise of protest he made for Happy thinking Tony needed taking care of was at the food, which earned Happy a petulant scowl and much fidgeting until Tony decided he was hungry on his own. His jacket wasn't fitting right, anyway. Maybe he should have forced himself to eat more of Sal's alarming stew.
"I didn't realize they had been out of business," Tony mumbled without looking up from his work. He didn't quite see what he was doing so much as stare at it since he had roused some strange project planted in the cabin's storage, or perhaps bits of the craft's important wiring and function he had just plundered to occupy himself with little mind for how they were going to land without it. That radical fit of energy Sal was worried about seemed to be catching up with him, and Tony needed to focus it on the parts he manipulated in the quiet, making something tiny and so intently fidgety that most people would have had a tantrum of impatience. Tony needed to focus.
It was distracting, though, finding that he had already been through such an exchange once before. What was it about the Avengers that made them assume they stopped functioning once Tony distanced himself? Obviously they didn't function well, but they never would run as cleanly as they did with his sharpened eye and expert command. That didn't mean they had to fall apart without him, though. They had Cap. They were all more capable heroes than Tony could ever be. The had managed it well enough before.