It had occurred to Tony to offer Loki some minor medical care, maybe a drink of water or other comforts, but that slimy smile of his bought him an unimpressed stare instead, and Iron Man grabbing his pantleg to force him to sit forward in the car. Getting off on his own destruction was all the comfort Loki needed. At Wicked's shout, Iron Man stepped back from the truck to look after them, shading his eyes with a flat hand and squinting through the smoke. He would have loved Loki's crestfallen reaction, but followed Kate a few steps instead when she came running back.
"It's Coulson? He's alive?" he repeated helpfully, trying to watch her and their prisoner and look back at the debris all at once before he gathered his wits. "Here," he said, snapping at Loki before he was forced to manhandle him again to get him to sit back and let Iron Man retrieve the box by his feet. It wasn't much, but Kate might be able to use a few bandages and some old pain killers. That lucky bastard, no wonder he was so smug.