"Tony…"

The voice that whispered his name was accompanied by a hand on his shoulder, and Stark came awake suddenly, only just remembering not to make any sudden motions. Instead, his grip on Peter tightened imperceptibly and he looked around to see if it had been Peter who woke him. His eyes were closed, though, and his even breathing told Tony that he was still out.

The hand shook his shoulder just enough to draw his attention and he turned his head and saw that Strange had entered the room without him noticing.

"I fell asleep?"

"Yes."

If the other man thought it was odd to find him holding Peter while he slept, he didn't say anything, and there was no amusement in his expression just then.

"He had a nightmare."

Strange nodded. That was pretty much what he had decided when he'd come looking for Stark. The boy's head was resting on Stark's chest, one arm draped over him and the other tucked between them, resting quietly despite the flush of fever that seemed to radiate heat. Tony had fallen asleep with his body propped up by the pillows, his arms loosely holding Peter against his side and still ready for anything the boy might throw at him while he slept. He hadn't woken up when Strange opened the door, or while he'd silently checked the chart and the monitor, and the doctor had almost decided to leave the two of them to get as much rest as possible, but he didn't like the temperature he was looking at.

"That's what I figured." The doctor leaned over and ran his hand along Peter's forehead, now, and down the exposed cheek. "His fever is up."

"Yeah." Tony could feel the heat against his side and his chest. "What do we do about that?"

"Tylenol, for now."

"You don't have anything stronger?"

"I do, but we might have figured out what caused his illness and I don't want to risk giving him anything now that might interact with whatever we come up with during the next few hours. Tylenol will cut it back, hopefully. We can use some cold compresses as well, if needed."

"What is it?" Tony asked, sitting up a little more, but trying to hold his body as still as possible to avoid disturbing Peter.

"Nutmeg."

"What?"

"It's growing in that garden, Ned confirmed that the two of them rubbed some in their hands to smell it, and it causes almost all of the symptoms I'm seeing. Normally it would run its course in hours – or a few days – but it's also an insecticide, and although spiders aren't actually an insect, I'll bet that's why it knocked Peter down so hard."

Tony frowned. He couldn't have heard that right.

"Nutmeg?"

"As odd as it sounds, yes. Raw nutmeg, not the kind that goes in your eggnog."

"I don't like eggnog."

"You're weird."

Tony didn't reply to that. He looked at the sleeping boy.

"Should I wake him?"

"No. I'd rather he slept. I'll put the IV back to administer the Tylenol and to hydrate him. Where's his aunt?"

"She went into the city."

"Does she know who he is?"

"No. He doesn't want her to know, either."

Strange nodded.

"You'll stay with him?"

"Yeah."

"Do you need anything?"

"You might tell Pepper where I am."

She probably guessed, but if someone let her know, he'd appreciate it.

"I'll get what I need for the IV and be back in a while."

"Thanks."

Strange nodded and left, and Tony sighed, reaching for the tablet he'd discarded earlier with the hand that wasn't holding Peter. He definitely wanted to do a little research now.

"Nutmeg…"

The hell.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"Nutmeg?"

Strange nodded, used to the reaction by now. He'd spoken to two others on his way to find Pepper for Stark and both had asked him about Peter's progress. Since Steve Rogers was sporting a black eye thanks to the same nightmare that had given Tony his fat lip, Stephen hadn't seen any reason not to share his diagnosis when he'd been asked. Rogers had simply shaken his head and thanked the doctor, walking off with Banner beside him.

"That's our initial finding," Strange told Pepper. "We could be on the wrong track."

"But you don't think you are?"

"No. I'm pretty sure. It sounds right and feels right, if that makes any sense?"

"It does." She was used to Tony, who was brilliant like Stephen Strange, and still used his gut when trying to reason out problems and puzzles, too. "He's with Peter?"

"Yes."

"Does he need anything?"

"He said he didn't, but I don't know him very well, so I doubt he'd mention anything to me."

Pepper nodded.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

Strange excused himself and Pepper debated going and checking on Tony and Peter. She had to admit she really wanted to see for herself the scene Strange had described to her. Tony wasn't above displays of affection with her, but she knew he didn't like to acknowledge that there was a deeper side to him when it came to interacting with others. She knew he liked Peter, but he hadn't really admitted it until he'd gotten so sick. It was a huge reversal for a man who liked it when people thought he was self-centered. She decided she'd go see if there was anything he needed.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Nutmeg…"

Tony was careful to keep his voice down but he couldn't stop himself from muttering as he read more about Strange's suspected cause of Peter's illness. Who'd have thought that plants were so dangerous? Obviously Stephen Strange had, since he'd been thinking along that exact same line since Tony had convinced him to come and figure out what was wrong with Peter. The man really was a genius. Tony liked that. He liked surrounding himself with intelligent people who could challenge him. He wondered what it would take to convince Strange to stick around a while. Someone else could probably watch the Sanctum Sanctorum for a while. Maybe.

Tony looked up when he heard the door open, expecting that it was Strange returning, but was surprised to see Pepper walking in instead, a tray in her hands. She smiled when she saw him awake, and he wondered if it was because she was pleased to see him or if it was because he had Peter Parker cuddled next to him. He decided that it didn't matter. He liked it when she smiled – especially when he knew that smile was only for him.

"Is he alright?" she asked, softly, bringing the tray over to his side of the bed and setting it down within reach.

"He will be."

She saw his arm tighten just a little on Peter's side but hid her smile.

"I thought you could use some dinner."

"Thank you."

He didn't reach for the sandwich on the plate, though. Instead he set the tablet down and took her hand, squeezing it lightly. Yes, he was there for Peter, who needed him just then, but Pepper was there for Tony, and he knew it. And appreciated it. Even if he never told her enough.

She leaned over and kissed him, lightly.

"You're welcome," she whispered. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Mom?" It was the softest of sounds, drawn from the depths of exhaustion, but they both heard it, and froze. Chagrined at waking him, even though his eyes never opened and he didn't move, Pepper brushed her fingertips against Peter's hair, feeling the heat from the fever Dr. Strange had mentioned to her. In one word she could hear the fear and longing both, and instantly understood the connection between the boy and Tony – even though he probably had no idea why he bonded so easily with Peter.

"No, sweetheart," she murmured. She brushed a soft kiss against his temple, unable to stop the maternal gesture. "Go back to sleep."

He mumbled something in his sleep, moved only enough to nod, and then was quiet once more.