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You have not reached Tony Stark. Clearly. Leave a message and I'll get back to you if I feel like it.

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[He feels that numb static prickle in his hands you get, when something so suddenly vanishes or breaks apart in life; that same kind of stomach drop and pulse you get when you're falling, when you look up to a ceiling coming down on you, when someone you love doesn't return a call — when you're told someone you love doesn't make it (and it's all on you). He breathes out, shakily, color draining from his face. It's hard enough to know someone's gonna die when you go home. But he knows them. He knows them here, and they're his friends, and — and they're — they're so nice to him.

He turns and quickly exits the room, not wanting to let it screw him up right in front of his mentor.

With a thwip and a rush of air, he's gone out the door and into the night in seconds.]