She had slept for days after the trauma and demand of Magneto's attack on the helicarrier and woken to put on those adorable lacy underpants, introduce herself to the house, have her coffee and start her life all over again. Tony had blamed himself then, too; he should have been able to do more, he shouldn't have put the twins in danger, he shouldn't have assumed Magneto wouldn't attack them on a giant metal ship. But he had also seen the kind of power Wanda was capable of, saw what she knew she was capable of, and the standard she was holding herself up to, not him.
The way she looked at him here, he knew he had a standard to live up to now, and that he wasn't meeting it. Iron Man's head bowed, turning away slightly at her tears, and he kept his post by the door until she was wrapped in the support of her brother and Iron Man's departure would be quiet and unobtrusive. There were things to do. Phone calls to take. Checks to sign. Lives to save. Wanda had the people she could depend on.