With Rogue, for all intents and purposes, tapped out, Iron Man seemed at a loss, still gripping her neck and the other fist balled at his side with her blood tarnishing the sharp edges of the plates curving around his elbow. He wanted her to hit him now so that he could destroy her and channel this aggression, but she went limp and just let the blood fall between them. In his frustration, his fist tightened like he would hit her again anyway, then he forced himself to relax and talk himself down. It was difficult with the constant noise in his helmet.
At least one of them got what they wanted. After a tense pause, Iron Man juggled his hold on Rogue, letting her sag into the scoop of his arm and over his shoulder while he scanned the ground for a place to land. He shook his head as if he could shake his helmet off, and it retracted on its own like it was peeled open then discarded. It sounded like the entire city was mobilized, and they wouldn't care to deal with one girl and her poor people skills. "You planned this well," he noted, flat but not unappreciative. Maybe it was just luck. Without warning, he kicked into gear, carrying them higher and away from the park, towards the unmistakable Avengers Tower and its rooftop garden.