[That laugh actually gets something more like a genuine smile out of Tony, albeit a small one - but then Steve groans and Tony feels pain knife through his own body. He doubles over in the chair and tries to suck in a deep breath, head between his knees. He assumes the painkillers the doctors have dosed him with are wearing off, nothing more; after a few moments, the pain eases, and he's able to sit up again.]

Can't do a lot else right now. [Tony pulls a face at his own weakness; he's not as young as he used to be, and he knows from experience that he's not going to bounce back like he might have ten years ago.] But a valid point nonetheless, since I don't know how soon you'll be picking up a pencil.

[Sooner than he will, probably. The serum's like that.]