More dreams. And they never stop. He's never known Steve to be violent in his sleep though, so whatever it was-- Tony's not going to ask, not yet. Not until they're both in the kitchen and Tony's trying his hand at wrapping Steve's wrist when they decide it's just a really bad strain and not a fracture.

He's really not that good at it, but he tries and retries, the cool ocean breeze against skin that's bare from the waist up really very calming.

And hey. Hey, as long as they're here, why not...you know...press?

"Not about acid spitting aliens, I'm guessing?" The loss of his team is Tony's nightmare.