"This is amazing."
Strange smiled at the compliment.
"Thank you."
"I didn't even know I had asparagus in the fridge."
"It was in there."
Which was true. To a point.
They were sitting around the table, eating a chicken stir fry instead of a casserole since it turned out that they didn't have a casserole pan to cook one in – and Strange wasn't above magicking up some asparagus to add some extra flavor to their dinner, but summoning a cooking pot that had never existed in the apartment was probably pushing it a little.
May wasn't stupid, after all.
She looked over at Peter, who was picking at his dinner.
"Why don't you go back to the compound?" she suggested, gently. "Nothing is going to happen this weekend, and I don't want you sitting around here, doing nothing but brooding. Time enough for that later."
He shook his head.
"No. I want to be here. I want to be with you."
"Why don't you both come back?" Tony asked. He wasn't eating any better than Peter had been, and for the same reason. "We'll put you up in the VIP room for the weekend while things get set up here. You can have a mini holiday."
He didn't add before things get rough, but they all knew it was going to be happening soon.
Stephen had explained to Peter – and earlier to Tony – that May's condition was going to deteriorate rapidly. She'd feel fine first, and then would progressively get weaker, until she'd be bedridden. There wouldn't be any pain; she'd just get weaker and weaker until she faded, and then would fall asleep and probably not wake up.
May looked at Peter, but he looked down at his plate, unwilling to make her decision for her and knowing that if she thought he wanted to go back, she would agree to go. He didn't care where they were; he just wanted to be wherever she was.
"It might be just what I need," she told Stark, understanding what Peter was doing, and loving him that much more. Enough that even though she would have liked to have the weekend to herself – and to him – she was willing to do what was probably best for him. That didn't include sitting in the apartment waiting to watch her die. "Thank you."
He nodded, and stood up.
"I'll call Happy to come get us. He should be here by the time we're done eating and you get a bag packed."
Tony excused himself and went into the living room to make the call, and May gave her nephew her best stern look and gestured to his dinner.
"You helped make it, you have to eat it."
Peter nodded and turned his attention to his meal, but he didn't eat very much of it despite her gentle prodding.
OOOOOOOO
When they were done eating, Tony helped Peter do the dishes, while May was hustled into the living room by Strange. He gave her a quick check up, reminding her that it was pretty much his specialty and he'd be there to help stay on top of things unless she didn't want him to do that. She was more than willing, knowing that nothing he did would help her condition, but that it would almost certainly make Peter feel better knowing that she was being constantly monitored.
When he was done, she excused herself to her room to pack an overnight bag and Strange went into the kitchen to watch the others finish the dishes, and Stark looked up from the plate he was drying when he walked in.
"What do you think, Stephen?" he asked. "Do we plan any kind of activities, or do you think she would be better off with just relaxing and nothing on the schedule…"
"I'd say the less fuss the better."
The weather wasn't going to allow for any outdoor activities; it was nearing winter and the rain was cold when it came down, and the clear days held a bit of a chill.
"Peter?"
He'd been only half paying attention to the conversation, zoning out and concentrating on his own inner turmoil. He started, looking up at Tony.
"Yes?"
"Can you think of anything she might want to do?" he asked the boy, sincerely. "Anything she's ever mentioned that was on a bucket list or anything?"
Peter hesitated, but his thoughts were going a mile a minute once and then slowing to nothing and freezing him. Finally he shrugged.
"Let me think about it."
"Okay."
Happy arrived about the same time the last of the dishes were dried and put away, and they all walked down and got into the limousine. Not surprisingly, Peter sat beside May and across from Tony and Stephen. The adults made mostly small talk on the way to the compound, but not surprising any of them, Peter didn't make it to the compound awake.
He'd had a fairly active morning sparring with Natasha, and the tumult of the afternoon and evening caught up to him now that he wasn't doing anything to keep his mind off it. He fell asleep with his head against May, her arm warmly holding him, and her cheek resting against his hair.
"No sense waking him up," May said when they arrived at the compound and Happy pulled the car into the garage area. "I think I'm going to call it a night fairly early."
"I'll carry him up to his room," Tony told her. "Happy will carry your bag to your room. Do you need anything?"
"No. Just some rest. Thank you. For everything."
"You're welcome. We'll save breakfast for when you're ready, so don't feel rushed in the morning, okay?"
She nodded, and watched as Tony picked Peter up, gathering him into his arms carefully. The boy roused for just a moment, but a softly whispered reassurance was all it took to put him back to sleep. She and Strange watched as Stark headed for the entrance.
"He's so good with him," May noted.
"It's easy to be," Stephen told her. "He's a great kid. You did an amazing job raising him."
She gave him a sad smile, and leaned against him, for just a moment, accepting the compliment and a little comfort. Strange kept his arm around her.
"I'll walk with you to your room."
"Thank you."
OOOOOOOO
Strange entered the lounge a short time later and found Tony sitting with Pepper on one of the sofas. She had her arms around him, clearly giving him support and comfort of her own after the rough day he'd had. He was leaning against her, while at the same time speaking softly with Romanoff, who had commandeered a soft upholstered chair for herself.
They all looked up at his approach, and Natasha got out of her chair to meet him with a hug, too. One that he needed more than he realized.
"I'm so sorry…" she murmured, pulling him into her arms and resting her cheek against his chest.
"So am I," he said, closing his eyes for a moment and resting his chin on her head. "I can't even begin to relate to what Peter is going through."
"I know."
"Did Tony tell you about the guardianship?"
She nodded and took his hand, pulling him over to the sofa so they could sit down – and she could sit beside him.
"It's a good choice."
"Absolutely," Pepper agreed.
"No reservations?" Strange asked her, his arm still around Natasha, taking solace in her strength.
"None," she said, with certainty. "We'll get him through this, and then we'll make sure he knows how sure we are."
OOOOOOOOO
There were people all around him. All of them somber, all of them dressed in black. The same people here now that had been by the graveside when he'd watched his parents' caskets get lowered into the ground and covered with flowers, and then dirt.
"You have to be strong," they'd tell him.
"You're the man of the house, now."
Some tried to be cheerful, but many would hold him and cry. He tried to hide from them all. From their words of advice, and from their sorrow. He had enough of his own and couldn't help them with theirs. He didn't know how.
She found him huddled in the corner, and sat down beside him, pulling him into her lap and holding him close, rocking him gently.
"It's okay to be sad, Peter," May told him. "I'm sad, too."
Peter woke, pulled from the dream by the realization that he suddenly wasn't alone in his room. He lay still, barely awake, and aware that if it had been something dangerous, he'd know it. He turned his head just as she pulled his blankets back and slid under them beside him, and then pulled them up over the two of them.
"She's going to leave me, Natasha," he said, brokenly, turning to face her and automatically reaching for her.
"I know, baby…" Romanoff replied, gathering him into her arms and holding him close. "I'm so sorry."
"I can't be strong."
"You don't have to be," she assured him, pressing her cheek against his. "We'll be strong for you."
Peter broke down, weeping into her collarbone; the fear and the sorrow and all the unfairness of everything he was facing soaking her shirt as he clung to her like a lifeline against it all. For her part, Natasha did exactly what he needed her to do. She held him until he fell asleep, exhausted, and then continued to hold him until she fell asleep as well.