Tony rose, pacing slowly around the room. He was the picture of composure, despite the last few hours.

“We were this close on Titan. Quill gave in. Thanos won. Maybe we could have stopped him there.” He stopped before the open door to the bathroom, catching a reflection of himself.

“Siberia. I was this close to persuading Rogers back.” He shook his head slowly. “Then I gave in. Fractured The Avengers beyond all hope. Maybe we could have stopped Thanos if our home base was intact. Instead I watched my goddamn son murdered like he was dirt under Thanos’ heel—” he jerked an arm out, shattering the mirror with a blast of plasma. It had all spilled over the moment he recalled Peter.