“Just us.” Tony’s eyes follow the graphite as they fall from the page, his mind actually wrapped up in Steve’s confession. He’d been joking. He had no idea that Steve didn’t sleep. He had no idea that he himself actually got more sleep than someone else here. He knows that Vision hadn’t been one for sleep, and he’s always had an inkling that Banner rarely slept either, but he’d thought that the latter had just been part of the tortured genius syndrome he himself suffers from.

Banner had to have more PTSD than Tony did, even if he rarely shows it because those teddy bear smiles of his.

Tony finds himself leaning back, though the lampshade pushes against his shoulder blades as he crosses his arms. He tries to be mindful of making a mess, since they don’t need anything else to break honestly, enough so that he doesn’t mention his own lack of ability to sleep. It does, however, dawn on him that he needs a new boxing instructor since Happy seemed to be a pile of dust right now. Maybe he can mention it if they get stick in some Doctor Who-like Time loop.

“In case we don’t make it back, Banner and Thor’s pet bunny rabbit are going to have second and third chances. I was going to see if Rhodey will come with me for the first shot, but you’re better at keeping me on the rails.” And Steve needs this, Tony knows that intimately. He needs the task and, most importantly, he needs the win.