With his chin up, looking down at Pietro with narrowed eyes, the noise from Iron Man could have been his power or the groan of taxed plates or a growl. His free hand, already curled into a fist, was brought up to his hip, running out of reasons not to knock Pietro out.
Pietro might only have been saved from a tirade by Iron Man's head snapping around, like a dog that had just sniffed out its prey. The tracker on Wanda was moving again, already out to the street, fuck. Unceremoniously, he dumped Pietro and darted for the edge of the roof again just in time to zero in on Sinister dropping his charade. This didn't look good. Iron Man glanced back at Pietro once more before he disappeared.