Like suggesting these basic necessities was a complete damned fool impulse, Tony turned to look the boy over with a question etched on his face, lip raised in annoyance. They were still going, weren't they? That was a waste of time until they burned out, and it would take a lot more than this to burn Tony out. At least, that was the face he could put on. He was supposed to be here to make sure the kid got home safe.
He smoothed the frustration from his features and put a hand to Billy's cheek, feeling the grit of dust under his knuckles and the heated flush. With a frown, he glanced around, trying to figure a course of action that didn't involve turning back to the street, fist curling in absent reassurance in Billy's hair until it dropped back into his lap.
They had to go back to the street. That was the first step, no matter what. "Come on," he instructed, pushing back to his feet with effort, clutching the battery to his chest.