He moved his hands, cupping Tony's face, searching it. So often the man was playing one game or another, joking at the worst of times, but this wasn't a joke. He could read it in Tony's eyes, the sincerity, the real belief he was gone, and that he'd sacrificed himself to save the rest of them. How many of the rest of them? How many were less? One Thor had told him Bucky and Loki and . . . The other hadn't spoken of it much at all. Who was right? And what had made Tony believe he had to die?

"Tony, I don't think this is really Hell. I've . . . I've been through something like this before, and if you died to save the world, you sure wouldn't end up catering to the devil." He managed a faint, weak smile, "Besides, why would killing you off save anything but a little aggravation?" It was a weak as hell attempt at humor but Tony might appreciate it. Maybe.