"What am I supposed to do?" Tony did snap, talking over Steve before he could finish, muscles jumping under Steve's hand then shrinking in defeat as Tony did. He didn't have anything after that. He wanted so badly to be mad at Steve so he had the excuse and could just push until Steve gave up or he burnt himself out, but Steve always had to be fucking right. That left Tony with one person to be mad at, and there wasn't anything he could do about that no matter how hard he tried. Drained and lost, out of arguments, he let his gaze drop to the floor, arm dead weight to Steve while he raised the other to his itching eyes, pressing his knuckles to his brow. Again, without the growl in his voice and with a steady breath, he asked, "What am I supposed to do?", because if anyone knew how to fix him, maybe it was Steve.