It took Tony seconds to spot him, scanning the crowd the moment they alighted for threats, familiar figures, defensive posture, scowls of contempt, and was only a little (in retrospect) surprised to find all of these elements on one welcome, stoic frame.
That asshole.
Lugging his battery, Tony lingered a moment longer in the rush, patting Billy's hair down at the back of his neck in apology or reassurance or relief or all of the above, a question on his face that he never asked before turning and pushing Billy ahead where he could keep an eye on him towards Nick. "This is the fucking welcome wagon? I expected at the least some balloons or something, Nick, come on," he chastised on their approach, but his cautious hand left Billy's back long enough to touch Nick's chest, his forehead on Nick's shoulder for a deliberate second where he smiled wearily and tapped some of that endless strength to not fall over for just five more minutes. "They're better be cheese on those, dude, or I'm sending you back to the store," he threatened, all of that exhaustion and gratitude gone (not quite gone) when he snatched the brown bag away.