Instinctively, Tony raised a hand to his ear and Iron Man thunked his glove against the side of his helmet. Behind his mask, Tony was squinting one eye shut against the assault that he couldn't seem to shut out, never mind the seizure inducing lightshow his HUD was treating him to until the episode was over. For a second, he wasn't sure what the hell that was supposed to do, not until he tried to launch into the air and crash on through the ceiling to get them the hell out of their as quickly and brutally as he had to and...nothing. The Iron Man's control surfaces didn't even respond. Targeting was still working, but it all seemed to be for show, blinking and scrolling helpfully but not responding to Tony's command to 'fire anything'. That was probably a good thing, on review. Overall, though, relatively not okay.
"Worse things have happened," he noted out loud, not that Anthony could process that with enough depth for it to have any soothing effect, it was probably wasted energy. Restructure the priorities. The Iron Man might have been out of commission, but Extremis still seemed to be responding fine and charging through SE records to try to find a voice print match; meanwhile, Tony could try to call Happy for a quick pick up, if he wouldn't mind. He'd answer the phone. Any time now.
The elevator slid to an easy halt and the doors Tony hadn't seen previously rolled open to a well-lit hall, making Tony squint again to adjust. "Mi casa es su casa," the voice welcomed, then laughed as though surprised. "Isn't it? I mean, literally. I didn't mean it that way, but look, it happened. Ha."