[ Good god. Bruce can't see Tony rub a frustrated hand over his face, but maybe it's obvious from the brief silence that follows. He's seen cyborgs and Cybertronians in pieces, people with glass limbs and eyes and wounds, and now hearts...

And he thought worrying about the Moira itself was bad enough. ]

Hey. [ Conversationally, in a morbid kind of way: ] I just had a brilliant idea, bear with me: friendship medical bracelets that say "dear god, please no chest compressions," what do you think? I could machine them in like a half hour. Guaranteed to be stylish.