While the other two talked over each other in their bursts of not unexpectedly unrestrained emotion, Tony didn't miss Wanda's silence. Unmoving while Clint got himself back together, Tony locked eyes with her, waiting for her to blame him so he could apologize or tell him what part of this was hurting her most or just scream it out and burst some lightbulbs so he knew where they stood with this. Not yet, apparently.
"We're not going to," he finally addressed Wicked, his tone unchanged. "Not yet. There are two possible scenarios. If he's being kept alive, he's not comfortable but he's in the only known uninfected area," Iron Man laid out, hoping they had enough focus left between them to figure out the second option for themselves and not make him say it out loud; if Magneto was going to kill Pietro, he would have done it long ago and a rescue would be moot. "Our main priority," Iron Man continued firmly, raising his hands slightly before all of that emotion bubbling between them hit him at once, "is the safety of the civilians here. We can't afford putting more Avengers at risk until we can limit the avenues of attack." Tony sympathized, he did, despite his cool mask. He had been living with this pain in his chest for days now. But the last time he skipped out to lend a hand to some fully capable Avengers, he came back to his home and his hope in ruins. People had died because of him. That wasn't a risk he was going to take.