"...need to wake up, Boss."

Tony shifted in his sleep. What was that annoying noise? Pepper pushed at him. "Tony? Answer her," she said in sleepy frustration.

"Boss!" Ugh. It was FRIDAY. Why was she waking him? He didn't have anything Sunday morning this week, did he? And why was he still so tired? He had actually gotten to bed early, before 11, which was impressive for him. But he wasn't getting any younger, and he had to catch up on his sleep some time.

"Boss. I can tell that you're awake now. Karen has sent an alert that Peter requires assistance."

Tony shot up in bed. Pepper sat up too, and she was still half asleep, but looked concerned.

"Hey, go back to sleep, Pep. I'll take care of it."

"Are you sure? I-"

"Yep. I'll be gone in two minutes." Then quietly, to FRIDAY, "Do I need a suit for this?"

Her sensor blinked an affirmative signal, as the AI tried not to disturb Pepper any further. Tony skipped dressing, since he'd be trading it for an undersuit downstairs anyway, and slipped out of his bedroom.

"What's going on, FRI?" he said at normal volume as he jogged the short distance towards the elevator. Do I have time to change, or are you sending a suit now?

"You can change. He is not in any pressing danger."

"Well thank heavens for that ," Tony muttered, entering the lift and pushing the "down" button. "What's going on? And what time is it? Peter's not even supposed to be out…"

"It is 2 AM. I don't know why you were not alerted that he was out after his curfew. Karen reports he was engaged in attempting to stop an illegal drug transfer by two members of the Manfredi crime family. He was handling it, but then they got a van full of men as back up, and Peter was barely able to get away. He has no life-threatening injuries, according to Karen, but he can't swing home. He's on top of the Cathedral Church on 112th Street."

Tony quickly pulled the undersuit on and triggered the Iron Man suit to assemble around him. His eyebrows were drawn together in anger and worry as the mask closed over his face. "Take me there, FRI."

Tony was there in less than ten minutes, setting down as quietly as he could next to the red and blue lump on the church's roof. He had opted not to call Peter on his way, not trusting himself to be reasonable over the phone. Much better to wait until he could see the kid's face while he talked to him. Those big brown (probably guilt-filled) eyes would help rein in his anger so he was less likely to say something he'd regret.

"Scan him, FRI."

"On it, boss."

"So," Tony said, his eyes meeting the hooded ones of the teen on the ground in front of him. "You're alive, which is great. But not looking so hot. Do you want to talk about why you're out after curfew and I didn't get an alert, or about how you're messing with the mob again when we have specifically talked about how they're above your pay grade?"

The surly teen blinked up at him and sighed heavily, his bottom lip split open and still bleeding slightly. "Any chance we can table both of those for tonight?"

"Not a chance in-" Tony cut himself off. "We can prioritize, though. FRIDAY?"

"Bullet wounds in left thigh and right shoulder, left ulna and radius fractured, three shattered and eight cracked ribs on the left side, two cracked ribs on the right side, a small amount of internal bleeding that does need attending to soon, and additional deep bruising all along the left torso."

Tony swore and dropped to his knees next to the kid. His kid. "Peter, what were you thinking?" he said angrily, worriedly. He took a few deep breaths before he continued on that vein. His anger wouldn't do Peter any good right now, and he had to be in an incredible amount of pain. Why couldn't the kid just listen ?

Peter sniffed slightly and said, "I know, I messed up. But until they called for back-up, I totally had that!"

Tony ignored that. "Pete, we've gotta get you to Medbay. Possibly at the Compound, with that laundry list of injuries. It's not going to be comfortable at all."

Peter winced, and nodded his head in understanding.

"Sorry, kiddo," Tony said, as he scooped the young superhero up as gently as he could and stood. Peter still hissed as his wounded arm pressed into Tony's suit.

"I know that hurts, but I think it would hurt more, and maybe do more damage if I carried you from the other side," Tony said regretfully. Can you maybe get that arm up around my neck instead?"

"I don't think I can move it right now. The bullet messed up one of the major muscles there. Which is the reason I couldn't just swing right-handed to get back."

"Among other reasons," Tony growled, partially standing Peter on his feet for a moment so he could carefully move the injured arm up around his neck himself. Peter yelped softly, then bit his injured lip, which prompted another hiss of pain.

"Sorry, kid. FRIDAY, can you wake Cho and tell her we're coming? I don't know if we have what we need for all this at the Tower, and I'd rather be safe than sorry."

The kid had been a trooper, and had kept his complaints to a minimum as they addressed the most pressing needs. Thankfully Helen had synthesized a painkiller strong enough to knock Peter out recently, and they were able to use it to remove the bullet that hadn't exited his leg, and set his arm, which had gotten twisted out of place when he swung to safety. Tony rubbed his temples with one hand, imagining how excruciating that must have been, but grateful the kid had managed to get away. He was in a drug-induced sleep now, his ribs wrapped, arm casted, and bullet holes stitched and bandaged. If they really pushed his quality food intake, Helen thought everything but maybe the arm should be mostly healed in 48 hours.

As they had flown to the Compound, before he passed out briefly from the pain, Peter had told him Aunt May was asleep, and didn't know he had snuck back out. The drug deal was supposed to happen at 1:30 AM, and Peter had managed to disable the monitoring in his suit to be on hand for it, since he didn't think the police would take his tip seriously.

So it was time to call May. Tony could feel a headache building, and not just because he'd gotten less than two hours of sleep himself.

It rang several times before she picked up, sounding groggy and breathless.

"Tony? What is it?"

"Peter decided he needed to do some post-curfew work tonight, and got a little banged up in the process. He's okay, but I've got him at the Compound, and he'll probably be here for a day or two healing up."

"What? He was going to bed, I thought! And I didn't get any alerts that he was out-"

"Yeah, me neither. He messed with his suit again. Your kid has a hero complex the size of New York, and can't seem to keep from doing whatever the heck he thinks is right, consequences aside."

May sighed heavily. "Our kid. You know you're parenting him as much as I am these days, Tony. Sometimes maybe more. You're sure he's okay?"

Tony forgot how to breathe for just a minute. But… was she right? Since school got out, especially, Peter had been spending more and more time at the Tower, and May and Tony had been communicating and coordinating much more frequently.

"Uh… yeah, he'll be okay. I can send someone for you tonight, if you want, but you might as well wait until the morning. He's out for the count. I'll stay with him, of course."

"Okay. Yeah, that's… I can wait until morning, sure. Thank you, Tony."

"For what?" Tony was honestly confused. He had noticed May's attitude towards him had softened and changed over the last 8 months since he started mentoring Peter in earnest, (minus a few hiccups like the metabolism thing,) but he figured she'd be mad at both of them. At Peter for being an idiot, and at Tony for not anticipating it and thwarting his attempts to get around the fail safes.

"For taking care of him. For being there and helping him." Her voice turned colder. "He's gonna need a lot more help by the time I'm done with him tomorrow, though."

"Yeah, get in line," Tony said gruffly. May chuckled, and bid him good night, with an admonition to call her if anything changed.

The next morning Tony woke from his uncomfortable position on the medbay room's couch. From the light streaming in through the windows, he assumed it was a couple hours after sunrise, but still early. He turned his head to see his kid watching him with hesitation from the hospital bed.

"Hey," Peter said quietly.

"Hey, yourself, problem child," Tony answered. Then, "How's your pain?"

"It's not bad," Peter said, but Tony could tell he wasn't being truthful. The kid was a crap liar. Sneaky? Sometimes, when he thought he was being altruistic. Straight out lying? His conscience revealed him every time.

"FRI? Let the doctor on call know Peter's awake, and that he'll probably need a lesser dose of those pain meds soon. Or at least his version of Advil."

Tony sat up, stretching and groaning slightly.

"So. Let's hear it."

Peter was quiet.

"C'mon, Underoos. What was so important that you hacked your suit again, and went out after your curfew without back-up last night? Or have you been doing this regularly?"

The boy's eyes widened. "No, sir, I swear. It was just last night!"

"Okay, then. Why?" Tony leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, but tried to keep an open expression on his face at least. He needed the kid to know that no matter what, he could talk to him.

Finally, Peter sighed. "Those guys are part of the Manfredi family, but I… I just thought they were doing this on the side. I didn't think they would be calling for back-up, or maybe I wouldn't have…" he trailed off, rubbing at his crazy bedhead. He looked a lot younger than usual at the moment.

"Doing what, exactly?"

"They're selling those drugs to local suppliers, and they're going mostly to schools in the area. Including my school, and even the elementary down the street, from what I heard. I needed to break up their supply chain. Preferably before school starts again."

"Why didn't you talk to me?"

"You would have just told me to tell the police. They don't listen to me, and they're not exactly subtle. They probably would have spooked them." He was picking at some stray threads on the blanket agitatedly.

"And what did you do, exactly?"

"Well, if nothing else, I at least dunked this shipment in the Hudson," he said smugly. I'm pretty sure I held it under long enough for it to be a total loss. Of course I didn't leave it in there, though. It doesn't need any more contaminants, and-"

Tony sighed. "Peter."

The kid stopped talking, looking up to meet his eyes.

"You can talk to me about this kind of stuff, Pete. I could talk to the police about it. Or if you made a really good case, maybe you could still try it, but with back up."

Peter looked surprised at the thought that Tony would maybe have worked with him on something like this. "What kind of back up? You don't care about little things like this… Below your pay grade, remember?" The kid's voice was just a little bit bitter, but mostly just frustrated.

"But I care about you, kid. If you'd had backup, you might not have been injured, and we might have caught the two dealers plus their back up. You know, instead of you being laid up in bed for a few days, me having a heart attack, and you probably getting grounded in some way." Peter's eyes had softened at Tony's admission, then he'd visibly deflated at the mention of consequences.

"And it's not that I don't care; I just can't take care of all that stuff. I let the police and the FBI handle it. And yes, occasionally vigilantes. Adult vigilantes. Ones without vengeful aunts."

Peter's face turned nervous at the mention of his aunt. As it should.

"When will she be here?"

"Probably within the next 45 minutes. You want some breakfast? You might need your strength before she starts in on you."

Peter sighed miserably and closed his eyes. "Yes, please."