"Mr. Stark, I'm afraid I don't understand something about this film," Vision said, his voice uncertain.

Tony looked up at the android sitting across from him on the other sofa and hit pause. He was tucked comfortably into a soft comforter, his head buzzing pleasantly from the pain medication. The doctor had been right - after the small outpatient fix, he felt better almost immediately. The incision site was sore, but not unbearably so, and the pain meds took the edge off of the pain in his head as well. He wasn't sure if it was the drugs or the procedure or both, but there was a lot to be said for not being in physical agony to improve his overall outlook. He was still upset and confused, but not hurting made it easier to bear.

"What is it?" He asked, pausing Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back for what had to be the sixteenth time. He heard a muffled groan from the recliner, where Rhodey was doing a bad job of hiding his disappointment at yet another interruption.

"Well," Vision began uncertainly, "Luke has been warned not to go after his friends, but ... if he did not, he would not be able to live with himself, am I correct? If Yoda and Mr. Kenobi at all understood Luke and what he values, they must know that he would follow his heart, even if it meant his own death. Han, Leia, Chewbacca, and the droids are his family!"

Rhodey was laughing. "Mr. Kenobi? Why so formal, Viz?"

Vision looked confused for a moment before his face settled into a smile. "It's ingrained, Colonel Rhodes."

Tony stretched cautiously and happily noted that there was only a twinge of pain. Apparently, whatever the doctor had done to him really had actually helped, as promised. "They knew he'd do it anyway, but they felt like they had to try and stop him, at least let him see that he was walking into a trap. We good to continue, or do you have more questions?"

Vision hesitated for a moment, then that new, innocent smile was back on his face, incongruous with his synthetic appearance. "So you might say that Admiral Ackbar's immortal words were correct?"

Rhodey laughed out loud, and Tony felt a long-absent smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Rhodey, are you letting the Internet corrupt Junior while I'm working my ass off at the office all day? He's starting to talk in memes."

"Everyone knows, Mr. Stark, that the Internet is for cats," Vision said. "And apparently, that reading the comments is a terrible idea. And I saw a delightful video just this morning of a cat that said, 'hey' instead of the usual 'meow.' It was as though a human male had possessed its furry body."

At an impatient groan from Rhodey, Tony hit the play button. "Just watch the movie, Vision. At this rate, we're not going to finish it before it's tomorrow."

He felt the medication start to pull him away again, but not in the way that gave him anxiety. It was somehow a gentler experience, made better by the assurance that Rhodey was nearby to watch his back. He vaguely heard Chewbacca's howl of rage at Lando's betrayal, thought fuzzily, "Am I fucking Lando?" and then he was out.

Medications always had screwed with his brain in ways that were unsettling at best, and terrifying at worst, so when he slipped into actual REM sleep and started dreaming, it was so foreign to him that he didn't even understand what was happening immediately.

At that moment, Tony's phone began to vibrate, the harsh buzz an unwelcome interruption. The drugs were pulling him further and further into his blanket-coccoon while Luke Skywalker hung on for dear life on Cloud City. The phone was too damn far away. He wasn't going to answer it ... he drifted off for a moment, and it stopped, but immediately started up again.

He sat up, dizzy and tired, and reached for it, glad that he had when he saw that it was Peter Parker. "You've reached the phone of Anthony Stark. He's asleep and watching Star Wars right now - "

He stopped his joke in mid-breath when he heard a gasping sound from the other end of the phone.

"Mr. Stark? I - I think I need ..."

The boy made a pained sound again, and Tony barked, "Peter! Where are you? Tell me where you are!"

At Tony's serious tone, Rhodey and Vision turned to watch him.

"Peter! Are you there? Answer me!"

There was a horrible hesitation, and then the sound of running and another pained cry.

"I-I'm here. I think I need some - some help ... there's a guy after me and I - I thought he was just - just a guy, but he can do stuff - think he's enhanced."

"Friday! Get me the location of this call!"

Tony stood up, and called the suit to him. "Rhodey, get ready. Call the doc, would you? Tell him to come to us. If he can't, tell him I'll pay whatever it takes!"

Into the phone, he spoke more gently. "Peter, I'm on the way. Where are you hurt?"

The kid's voice was fainter now, and Tony felt like his heart was going to pound its way out of his chest.

"Ribs - definitely. And something hurts in my - my side. I'm scared, Mr. Stark."

"Don't you let go. I'm coming, okay?"

Vision and Rhodey still stared as the suit flew to its creator, engulfing him in metal. It was his newest model, not yet complete, but almost there.

Rhodey protested, "Tony! You just had surgery! You're drugged, man. You can't -"

"You didn't hear him. He's just a kid! He's hurt and he needs help. I'm not letting that kid down! Get the doc and I'll be back here as soon as I can. I'm not going to engage the threat more than necessary to get Peter out."

Vision stepped forward. "I should go."

Tony was already halfway out of the window.

"You're too recognizable and your position is too unstable. They expect me to mess up. If I get caught, which I won't, I can say I was looped out on post surgery meds. We can make documentation if we have to. Gotta go, you guys. The kid needs help. Get the doc here - for the kid!"

He was gone, out the window in an unfinished suit, drugged and hurt, and Rhodey wasn't sure if he wanted to punch something or scream, possibly both. Instead, he did as Tony had asked, and called the doctor.

Tony found Peter fast. The new tech he had given the kid contained a couple of emergency trackers, and the phone signal was easy for Friday to trace. The teenager was practically crawling down a dark alley, two larger men in pursuit. One of them blasted the pavement next to Peter's head with some sort of energy beam. The kid managed a well-placed kick that should have dislodged his attacker, but the man didn't even move.

Peter stayed down this time. Tony didn't have much time. He wasn't close to a hundred percent, and Peter needed help fast. He appeared out of the shadows, well aware of the dramatic effect the lights and sounds of his suit made. Friday analyzed their opponents quickly, and Tony adjusted the strength of his repulsor beam accordingly.

He heard one of them say, "Shit! It's fucking Iron Man!"

The other replied, "I thought he was retired!"

"You've made a series of poor choices, gentlemen. Men. 'Assholes? I'm not sure how to address you, really."

Two shots and both were down.

"You're not dying. You're temporarily paralyzed. Should give you enough time to think about your lives and about how easy it was for me to hand you your asses. I mean, I didn't even bring my real suit and you both just went down, like ... well, like things that go down. A lot. I'll let you draw your own conclusions. Best of luck, assholes. Hope the cops don't find you before it wears off."

He spared them a backward glance.

"Nah, that's a lie. I hope they do. Fri, call in a 911 to this location, would you?"

With that, he scooped the frighteningly still but thankfully conscious Peter off of the pavement and took off as fast as he could back to the Avengers compound, where Rhodey and Vision waited.

His head swam a little bit, but he shook it off. "Not Lando. Han Solo. I'm a space pirate with hella swagger!"

Friday agreed. "You certainly are, sir."