Raising his hands in surrender and maybe defense was about all Iron Man could do until Wanda was quite done. He kept his movements slow, expecting her to turn that gun on him for any sudden move, standing with her and flinching visibly at her scream.
"Okay," he breathed when the zombie was very surely dead. Obviously, there needed to be better communication amongst the ranks because Wanda looked like she was coming undone. Wasn't Pietro at least supposed to be good at that? He might have been able to fall asleep, though. "Okay," Iron Man said again lightly, finally reaching for her in the same slow, deliberate way so she was fully aware of his intentions before it was too late and she tore his chest plate off. One arm wrapped around her shoulders to pull her against cool metal, the other hand sliding down her arm to liberate the emptied pistol before she resorted to throwing it at someone. "There might be some good sedatives left if we hurry back downstairs, but that's up to you. Do you want to keep going or do you want to get some sleep, sweetheart?"