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This is what Tony had warned him about: the type of destruction he had encountered many times before, and would most likely encounter again.
Richard didn’t know what to do - he was not a superhero like his better half, he was just a man who had gotten thrown into all of this. He sees the flames billowing in front of him, the heat almost knocking him out from being so close.
He shouldn’t be this close; Tony would kill him if he knew how close he was to the epicenter of the attack. Richard should be far away, resting peacefully in the safe tower in the sky like some sort of fairy tale character. But that wasn’t who he was - he was still the adrenaline junkie he always was and as soon as he had heard about the firebombings he had to see for himself.
He inhaled smoke and knew he should back away, run back to safety, call someone, call anyone, but he was glued to the spot - mesmerized by the flames which threatened to engulf him if even the wind blew he wrong way.
And then he heard them: the boosters of the suit. He was so accustomed to it that he could have picked the sound out at a rock concert. He barely had time to brace himself before he was snatched into the sky by an iron fist.
He would have hell to pay later.