That everyone was feeling better -- restored to the way that they'd been was a giant lift off of Tony's shoulders (even if he hated that he couldn't figure out the rhyme or reason behind it). He could breathe easier knowing that Gwen and Peter felt better, and that Steve (who he loved dearly, but was still slightly upset with) was back to being able to breathe without wheezing.
That didn't mean he felt great though. He was tired. And he was upset with last night's outcome more than he could probably put into words. He hadn't wanted to do what he'd done, but there'd been no other choice.
And in making that choice, he'd apparently stopped paying any mind to anything else, because if he had been, he wouldn't have let Nebula walk away in such disrepair.
"You know I can," he said, feet planted firm on the floor while he was leaning over and getting a better look at the damage -- goggles already on because there'd be some sparking eventually. "Does it hurt?" He asked, always curious. He supposed it had to. Thanos wouldn't have given her something he couldn't have also turned against her.