This was the last place Nick had to worry about, of course, but it was still frustrating that Tony was getting no response when he tried asking for more information from the agents still manning the comms. That was all he wanted, because he didn't know what he felt yet, numb and lost down here, cut off from the flow as they relied on radio waves instead of satellites. He was going up there. Once he saw the results himself, then maybe he would trust this feeling of relief and hope that so securely and sinisterly enveloped and doped the rest of the thriving population of the Raft. Then there was the city, streets choked with bodies and no one to clean it up-- no one that should have to. And then, and then.
And then Wanda. Somewhere between the healing and the sweeping, the Avengers were going to have to find a new home and a new conference table to sit around as equals and teammates, if any of them were willing. He was ready to do that then, not now, but Wanda stalked him down all sure and sharp and Tony balked, trying to dissuade her, hands up and head down, ready to leave. This was the last goddamn thing he needed, more of her anger or righteousness or sickening casual shrug. The last thing he expected was an apology, for any of it; she had tried to make her amends already but had been so sure she had been doing the right thing she had laughed in Steve's face by the end of it. Tony froze, still in her embrace and unmoved as she pulled away, just slowly bringing his hands up against his heart. Was this more of the same? Or was the comfort of the disembodied promises of a man who's job it was to lie enough to remind her that life went on and that meant more than just her own? They did seem to have a very different idea of what her mistakes were. Tony didn't even know what she had taken out on him that wasn't well deserved, unless her ignoring him really was supposed to hurt as much as it did. That was more than a rash expression of base emotion, though. That was prolonged cruelty.
"I don't care," Tony said, but that couldn't be true because he rolled his eyes as he shrugged, studying the ceiling with his lips in a thin line until he was sure he couldn't feel the sting of tears anymore. "I'm glad that you're okay, and you've made peace," he said, meeting her eye again but shaking his head, brow furrowed, the 'but' hanging in the air while he tried to find the words. Slowly, he dragged out, "And now I know what's important to you." That didn't mean they couldn't be friends, when they had hope on the horizon and only a lunch bill to worry about. But when the got down to the wire, she had shown him what her priorities were.