Either that crack was expanding or there was something tapping erratically at Bruce's window. The obvious reality was Iron Man darting along the face of Bruce's apartment, knocking at glass until he spotted Bruce through it and shouted, "Hey! Hey, look, out here, we gotta talk, we gotta go, listen, it's Jess--", still tapping for attention. The dampness might have evaporated quickly in the short flight in the summer heat, but Tony's adrenaline was still at full capacity, keeping his voice too loud even after Bruce opened a window for him as he continued to power through his crisis: "--lose your phone? I only left, like, 19 messages, and if you answered I might have had somewhere else to go but now its you so put it in gear, we gotta go, up, out, come on--" Iron Man was kneeling on his windowsill and reaching in for Bruce like he would grab him up whether Bruce consented or not to a flight across New York City. This was not one of Tony's best plans, up to and including the fact that he probably knew a few more capable surgeons, but that could have made them less useful. They would, after all, insist on correct operating procedure, which Tony was sure wasn't about to happen here.