Don't get the wrong idea—Stark wasn't being that kind-hearted. He had turned on the life-support system so he could shake Reed's brains into an even consistency without endangering his life. That way, Tony Stark would truly become the smartest man in the universe.
The moment the armor carrying the supplies landed, Reed rushed out and started vomiting, his whole body limp as a weak noodle.
What no one had expected was that Susan was the sort of scientist with a relatively normal schedule. She had gotten up early too, and when she came down the stairs and saw Reed, she was stunned. She hurried over and helped him to the sink.
Realizing that he had accidentally created an opportunity for the two of them to be alone, Stark became even more displeased. But when he saw the armor's hands loaded with ingredients and thought of making Pepper breakfast, he grew excited again.
Stark carried the groceries over to the kitchen island. Schiller had just finished putting things away and turned to leave the kitchen.
Everyone had drunk last night, and some of them might be hungover. He was going to make some icy drinks to wake them up.
Stark stood alone in the kitchen, lost in thought.
"Oh, God, did no one punch me in the head last night? Why does my head hurt so much?!" Peter leaned over the railing of the second-floor atrium, every muscle around his eyes scrunched together. The consequences of his hangover were plain to see.
He staggered down the stairs. He clearly had not fully woken up, but his headache kept him from going back to sleep.
As Schiller started the shaved-ice machine, he said, "Who told you to play depth charges last night? You mixed four or five different kinds of alcohol. It