There was enough to do inside the prison to keep Tony from breaking the rules immediately and starting a turf war. It wasn't too hard, anyway, keeping out of the city. His last experience with it still tasted sour and at least in here he knew to keep the expectations low. Falling into rhythm with Pepper was second nature, as much as his intention hadn't been to stress her out and put her to work, but his intentions with Pepper never really meshed with reality. Maybe keeping busy kept her relaxed. There was food to ration and cook and aspirin to count and generators to check and tears to dry, and Pepper was naturally good at keeping everything in order and on track and keeping the peace when Tony would have said the wrong thing long ago. He couldn't do any of it without her. That didn't make him feel any better about it.
Anthony must have been dribbling on his shoulder for a good ten minutes before Tony even realized the kid had fallen asleep, active even in his dreams with his wings twitching or fluttering and little hands grasping anxiously at Tony's shirt collar. That wasn't normal, right? The oppressive air of this place was enough to give Tony nightmares, when he slept at all. "Hey, no," he murmured when Anthony gave a hiccup of distress like he might wake up to have a good cry, not nearly far enough away from the cell that Happy had picked for his family to not disturb the couple and bring them running. Tony insisted he had this covered, he wasn't going to mess it up that quickly. He sat on the hard cot in Steve's cell, back against the wall, Anthony against his chest in one arm while idly picking apart a radio on the bed by his hip with his free hand. It was supposed to be relaxing to keep this from happening, but his tension must have been palpable. Anthony was starting to squirm and Tony could only look to Steve desperately for a quick solution before it got out of hand.