What the hell did Steve know? They were both so goddamn concerned, they were perfect for each other and could hug out anything they wanted to, and Tony could take care of Tony. But Steve took the wind out of that sail with typical brute efficiency and left Tony scowling, arms crossed with a fist against his heart. He needed more time to process what happened and carefully document it, not talk it out with the last person he deserved to be around. "It's just a machine, Steve," he bit, nothing to get 'worked up' over so Steve was harassing him for no reason. Normal people didn't chat with robots like they were people or care if they were around, it was just easily replaceable stuff and Pietro was the one that deserved this interrogation for bothering, and daring, to get the stupid thing. "He thinks," Tony accused abruptly, guard breaking to jab a finger back in Pietro's direction, "that pulling shit like this will--" What? Tony grasped for the words, resenting having blurted this line of thought at all, and locked his arms across his chest again, glaring at nothing with a pout of frustration. "Like anyone needs that," he finished, dropped his head, then gave Steve a shove back against the wall for staying so fucking close.