Self-preservation, sure. He had that in droves. And yeah, he tried very hard not to take pot-shots at his fellow combatants. But he didn't have Friday guiding his hand, so he was having to adjust and do it all manually, something he never really liked.

Then again, he really didn't want Barnes turning on him, either. The gauntlet might dish out some hurt...but that metal arm would end the fight in an instant. Tony was nowhere in the fighting weight that the goddamn Winter Soldier was.

Soon, he was able to scramble back enough to get a clear shot at the water, and he took it, firing blast after blast at where he hoped the body of the beastie was lurking. The tentacles seemed hell-bent on turning Barnes into human tartare, which was not okay. If anybody got the privilege of taking down the bastard, it was Tony, not some nameless anime monster.

The village nearby was erupting with cries, and suddenly there were a good two dozen frog-men storming the beach, brandishing spears and some sort of liquid in leather casks. And when they started throwing the leather casks, they exploded when they hit the water, causing the surface to burn.

"Holy crap!"