It was only that touch that stopped Tony from shaking his head, and froze him instead of charging in to interrupt. It didn't exactly change his mind, Jon didn't know what he was asking for, but Tony did want the same thing so badly that he took the chance instead to gather Jon's fingers and bring his palm to his lips instead. What Jon missed was the competent hero that Tony had pretended to be; Wesker hadn't needed the power of the god of shameful secrets to see straight through that facade. Tony needed more time to make it more convincing. "I have something for you," he said, and was already tugging on Jon's hand as he gingerly got to his feet as he offered, "Want to see?"

For now, he only needed to be convincing enough to make the journey across the shop not look too tender, and limited himself to some squinting against the light and hand pressed against his sternum like that might be just enough pressure to keep from being sick. It got him to the flickering bank of computers that turned out to be their own facade as he slid them aside, revealing a hollow impression behind them where a fully assembled Iron Man armor stood waiting. It was sleeker than the suits that Tony had paraded through Temba's skies in almost every way; gentler curves, more subtle connections, and it was only about Tony's height rather than towering over him. In place of the dazzle of red, too, was a more subtle sheen of shifting gold, green in the shadows and grading through copper where it caught the light. "I'm calling it the Model ICU," he announced, with a phantom of a smirk and a sidelong glance Jon's way, get it?. The helmet came away easily for Tony to offer to Jon expectantly.