Tony had initially thought that perhaps the emptiness of space as he drifted and waited for his oxygen-starved death was the worst thing in the universe, but the silence at least offered some comfort. No escape from his thoughts, but there wasn't anything directly plaguing him like distraught, sobbing children and the ashes of people he'd never get the chance to meet raining down like nuclear fallout did after Chernobyl. He dragged a hand down his face, forcing another bite of food in his mouth that seemed to turn to glue.
"Sorry, Bruce," he murmured as he took a swig of the glass, reaching out to add another measure to his own. "I'm glad you're here. I'm glad- of everybody that could be, that it's you," he admitted. He couldn't talk to Natasha or Steve like this because they would try to kick him in the ass or give him some inspirational speech. Bruce was on the same wavelength as him. Hell, he had been since they'd met.
"Double edged sword is right, though. How's the other guy dealing with it?" he asked after a moment of thought. He didn't know how present the Hulk was in any given moment, but he was going to offer him the courtesy of asking. "I know he's more on the emotionally constipated side, but- even an embodiment of rage can't just take that on the nose like it was nothing, surely."