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They were stronger together; Tony Stark knew this. Their raid on Strucker’s base was the latest example, even if the Maximoff twins had thrown a wrench into the operation. But Tony also knew that someday, as strong as they were, The Avengers wouldn’t be enough.
The team could take on homegrown bad guys (normal and enhanced) all day long -- and probably would, as, it seemed there were more every time they turned around -- but the mere existence of Thor and his damned brother Loki was proof that there were other beings out there. And not only were they just as aggressive and power-hungry as humans, but they had the ability to hit us where we're most vulnerable: at home.
The vision he’d had in Strucker’s lab played through Tony’s head every night like a damned 3D movie with Sensurround. A movie that he couldn’t rewind, couldn’t turn off. He was on a cold empty world, surrounded by the flying leviathans they’d fought in New York. His teammates -- who were also friends, if not practically family after all they’d been through -- dead or dying as he watched helplessly. Steve’s accusing words: “You could have saved us. Why didn’t you do more?”
And even if Captain America would probably never say those words aloud, he was right. Tony could do more. He had to. There was no other choice.