Pain and dizziness. Confusion and despair. Hands holding him down when all he wanted to do was writhe in agony. Cool cloths leaving a trail of temporary relief and voices cutting through the darkness. One he knew and one he didn't.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Everything."

"More specific, please."

"Fever, delirium, seizures… you name it. We've got to get the fever down or he's not going to make it."

"He has to make it. What do you need?"

"Someone better than me."

"Who?"

"The fever can be because of the same sickness the other kids have. The seizures, the delirium… those are neurological. Someone who can figure that out."

"Who's the best?"

"He's retired. Had a bad accident and now no one ever sees him."

"Did he die?"

"No."

"Then find him – and bring him here."

"He won't come. I'll find you someone else."

"No. If he's the best, then he's the one I need here. Find him. I'll convince him to come."

Peter jerked awake with a start, gasping as he shifted from restless sleep to immediate awareness without a cushion of time that allowed the brain to sift through each sensation to allow a gentle transition from one state to the next. He sat up, his head pounding to the same frantic rhythm that his heart was.

"Easy."

Tony hadn't left the boy's side for more than a few minutes at a time, keeping himself distracted from his worry by checking on the progress of several different projects he had going on, both at home and right there at the Avenger's facility. He'd immediately set his tablet aside when Peter started tossing in his sleep, mumbling incoherently and wincing as the pain he was feeling was pulling him from whatever weird dreams were haunting him. He'd moved the handrail and was now seated on the edge of the bed, and was still startled when Peter had bolted upright, looking around wildly. He reached out and put a steadying hand on the boy's shoulder, to keep him from falling out of bed and to give him something to ground with.

"Mr. Stark."

At least it wasn't a question this time. Tony decided that that was an improvement.

"Yeah. You okay?"

The wild look was starting to fade, at least, but Peter shook his head. At that moment he looked scared, pale and very young.

"I don't feel good."

Tony nodded, tightening his grip on his shoulder.

"We're working on that. Bad dreams?"

"Yeah." He looked around, clearly trying to get his bearings. "Maybe. I don't remember."

"Well don't worry about it," Tony told him. He gave the shoulder a final squeeze before letting him go and started to stand up. "Take some deep breaths and try to relax. I'm going to go get Strange. He said he needed you awake for some tests."

Peter reached for him, catching his arm before he could get out of reach.

"Don't-"

He stopped himself, because he didn't know what it was he was even objecting to. Taking tests that might find more problems, more people asking personal questions when he didn't know who knew what and who wasn't supposed to know – or maybe he didn't want to be left alone. No matter which, all the reasons were stupid ones, and the last thing he wanted was to look stupid in front of Tony Stark. Luckily, Tony seemed to understand his confusion and he sat back down on the edge of the bed, his eyes holding Peter's as he did so.

"I know it's overwhelming," he said. He didn't say scary, but they both knew that it was scary, too. "But we're going to run some tests, figure out what's going on and take care of it so we can get you back to crime fighting in no time. The fever isn't as bad as it was when we brought you in, so there's improvement. It won't be long. Trust me."

"I do."

"Good." He felt the weight of that trust on his shoulders but he didn't let it show. Peter needed tough love sometimes, maybe, but this wasn't one of those times, and Stark knew it. This was a time to give support, and Tony had that to spare – even if it wasn't something he was good at showing. He pulled his arm free, gently, and stood up. "I won't be long. Stay awake, okay?"

"Yeah."

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

True to his word, he was only gone for about ten minutes. Of course, even though he'd spent most of his time in Peter's room he knew the few places where Strange might be, and had found him in the first place he'd checked. The two men were talking when they entered the room, and each went to a different side of the bed, Stark relinquishing the lead to the doctor, who once more checked the machines that were keeping tabs on his patient.

"How do you feel?" he asked Peter when he finally looked up from the readouts. "And be honest. I need to know what we're dealing with."

"I ache."

"Where?"

"Everywhere."

"Dizziness?"

"I fell when I went to the bathroom just now."

Which was unheard of when swinging through the skyscrapers of New York was his usual norm.

"Close the door, Tony."

He waited until Stark did as he was told, and then began to question Peter thoroughly. Even the boy knew he was trying to understand what Peter normally was capable of, since the questions centered mostly on his abilities. He also asked him about his childhood, whatever he could tell him about his parents and any kind of injuries he may have suffered previously. Especially head injuries. Peter was as honest as he could be, and Stark learned a lot about the young man in the next hour.

Then the questions turned to neurological tests, with Stephen running Peter through an exhausting battery of visual, mental and dexterity assessments, all the while watching the boy's reactions and making mental notes that he'd put down on paper later. These tests were all done with Peter still in his bed, but then Strange had him stand up and they went through a few more, with the doctor keeping a steadying hand on the boy's elbow whenever he stumbled.

"Tony's told me some of the things he's seen you do," Stephen finally said when they had finished the last of these. "But I'm curious to see for myself the wall climbing. Do you mind?"

Peter was tired, but he shook his head and took a few wobbly steps over to the wall near the door. A moment later he was as high as the ceiling, with Stark hovering close underneath him, worried that he'd lose his concentration and fall. Strange simply watched in amazement, unable to believe what he was seeing even though Peter himself had described it during the questions. He just hadn't been able to think of it as anything other than a trick until he'd seen it for himself.

"Come down," Tony told Peter, not allowing himself to breathe easily until he had the boy back on his feet and was walking him to the bed.

"That's amazing," Strange said, taking Peter's hand and feeling the fingertips. They didn't feel any different than his own. "Can you do it consciously? Or do you have to think about sticking?"

"It just happens."

As much as he would have loved a longer demonstration, he knew his patient needed a break. His legs weren't just wobbly, they were literally shaking.

"I'll go over the tests as soon as I've had a chance to get something to eat," he said, both to Peter and Stark. "I want to go over the environmental tests from the school grounds and buildings again, too. I'll probably be back, though," he warned Peter as they settled him back into his bed.

"Okay."

Strange sat on the edge of the bed, echoing the same position Tony had taken on the other side. His gaze was intense as he brushed his fingers along his goatee.

"Do you want me to medicate you? I can give you something to make you sleep." They'd discussed the dreams when he'd been questioning him, but Peter hadn't been able to tell him any more about them than he'd been able to tell Stark. "There might be some side-affects, but we can get someone to keep an eye on you to avoid anything unpleasant."

"I can watch him," Tony said.

Strange shook his head.

"You need some sleep, too. You look like hell."

Stark scowled and started to say something, but Peter spoke up before the two could argue about it.

"I'm okay."

"Take a nap, then, if you can," the doctor told him. "Then we'll feed you some dinner and give your aunt a chance to say hi for a while."

"Okay."

"I'll stay here for a while," Tony said, stubbornly, as if daring either of them to tell him he couldn't. "I have a few things I need to do after dinner, so May can have him to herself."

"You don't have to stick around, Mr. Stark," Peter said, feeling like the biggest imposition in the world. He knew how busy Tony was and knew he had a lot of other things to do rather than keep him company or baby-sit him. "I'm just going to be sleeping."

Tony shrugged.

"I don't have to stick around," he replied. 'But if I'm in here, everyone else will leave me alone."

It wasn't exactly the truth, but it was close enough, and he liked the fact that Peter looked a little less guilty when he said it.