With the arm still wrapped around Jon, Tony gave a rhythmic pat to his side at Jon's hiccup, self-soothing at the glimpse of that blood as much as it was meant to be reassuring before Tony eased his hand around to Jon's back. There, he could rest his hand, wait, until he had shifted enough to get the leverage and his gauntlet jammed up against the shelf again and lift it carefully with a grinding grumble from where the shelf dragged on the stone wall it had crashed into. When it seemed stable enough and with enough room to manoeuvre, he gave Jon an encouraging nudge to get himself clear and let Tony shuffle out behind him.

Without Tony bracing the shelf, it dropped abruptly with another grinding complaint against the stone, digging furrows into the wall and leaving the shelf slanted across the aisle. Tony collapsed there with his legs splayed out ahead of him and back against the shelf instead to catch his breath, and gestured for Jon to return to the space between his knees where he could better see what happened now that they weren't under the furniture and the sunlight filtered its way through the canopy high above, and the widened hole that the animal had left behind in the derelict ceiling. "Nothing on the shelf," he took the chance to point out breathlessly, with a muted smirk. See, he was exploring. "As intended."