"Then he's going to get hit," I say bluntly.

"I'm sure he could be less respectful if he tried, but I won't necessarily be on hand to stop Bucky or Thor if he goes too far. He's pushing my own patience to the limit." I shake my head a little.

"None of us expect to be friends, that's not the nature of the business, but some respect is due or someone's going to stop caring that outside of the suit, Tony's just a man, and try to take it out of his hide." I stop, my hands anchored on my hips, my jaw tense.

I don't want this to happen, but it's being set up as an inevitability. Peter can't warn Tony off this path any more than I can. He may listen to Peter, but he'll do as he pleases. At this point, I don't even know why I care.

Except maybe I feel like something would be irreparably broken that shouldn't be. Which isn't a feeling with much weight- there's really nothing to break.

"It doesn't matter," I murmur, shaking it off, all of it, loosening up the joints in the shoulder that was so egregiously injured so many months ago.

"Feel free to be in a huff. I won't bring it up around you again. Don't worry."