A grin. A grin, Teddy figured, was a good sign. He could work with a grin. A grin meant something -- something like perseverance, something true that Teddy understood. It was the one thing, the one real and meaningful thing that Iron Man had managed to give to them in this totally messed up place, and it was times like these - nights like these -- when Teddy and Jaime and all of the others were forced to hold on and grip so tightly to it that it made parts of themselves hurt.

Narrowing his eyes, Teddy reached out and flicked at Jaime's forehead again with the quiet 'plnk' of metal. And then he grinned.

"Oh whatever, dude," he said and with a push and a beating of wings sped off and up towards home, shouting over his shoulder as he went, "just don't throw up, you loser." And laughed.