[Hangovers were literally the worst. Well. From a normal person's standpoint. From Tony's they were third on his list of the worst and most painful things. Topping that list was, in the number two spot, dying of palladium poisoning and two, waking up in a cave with no painkillers and a giant hole carved in your chest.

Then again, he's still not really in hangover land yet. The nap he'd taken had gotten rid of the worst of his drunken rage, and he only has a slight headache, underneath the bubble of leftover drunk that was still clouding his mind.

But oh, it was there. Lurking in the distance. A miserable experience that would literally feel like his head is being ripped apart and stitched back together a hundred times over. But for now? He's just screwing up his face as he listens to Charles, as his mind lazily struggles to keep focused on what he's actually saying.]

Yeah, okay. Sure tha- wait. No, no, wait. What? [He's still squinting against the lights in the room, still looking at Charles incredulously.] Why Zero- I didn't do anything. Just. Slap on the wrist, send me to bed. Don't you need that space for... actual murderers?

[Nope, Sorry Charles, this is one Tony Stark trying to push himself up and off of the table, wobbling and flopping back down before he can even get halfway up, cracking his head slightly on the surface with a hiss, wince, and... giggles as he reaches a hand up to rub at the spot.]

Je suis désolé, mon ami~ [French, said with a wave of his hand that's really distracting him for a moment.] Think I'll just.. sleep here. 'Kay?