They took turns being with him. Not that they consciously decided that someone would be at his side the entire reception, but it worked out that way. Peter sat on the sofa and the well-wishers would stop to talk to him. They'd tell him how much they liked May – or had loved her – and they'd tell him to be strong. Some would cry, many would hug him tightly, crying on his shoulder. They wanted him to understand that they would miss May, but each time someone said it, it made him feel the wounds of her passing that much sharper, and made the ache that much worse.

He didn't tell them, of course. It would have been heartless to add to their pain by telling them that they were causing him anguish as well and Peter would never do that to someone. He would nod, or force a smile, or hold them and try to comfort them. Giving so much of himself that it seemed there wasn't any left to hold his own emotions together.

Luckily, those who knew him best were watching him for any indication that he was close to breaking, and it was Stark who was sitting beside him when that point was almost breached.

"Let's get you away from here for a bit…" he murmured to Peter, watching as one of May's coworkers walked away.

Peter nodded, silently, and let Stark pull him to his feet. Tony waved to get Pepper's attention as they crossed the room. Not that he needed her help, but because he didn't want her to see that Peter was gone and wonder where he went. She nodded her understanding, and went back to the conversation she was having, leaving Tony free to deal with Peter.

They went to Stark's quarters, which were closer than Peter's just then, and Tony set him down on a sofa. He didn't ask Peter if he was okay, he could tell that he wasn't.

"I'm sorry…" he murmured. "I'll go back in a minute. I just need a chance to catch my breath."

Stark shook his head, wondering when the boy decided it was his responsibility to comfort all the people in the reception. Maybe someone he'd spoken to had said something in passing that had been taken that way.

"You don't have to go back at all," Tony assured him, an arm going around him to reassure. "We can sit here as long as you want to."

Peter closed his eyes and leaned against Stark's side, and took several deep breaths.

"My head hurts."

"I'll go get you something. Stay here, okay?"

"Yeah."

Tony got up and Peter leaned against the arm of the sofa, his eyes still closed. He managed to take the pills that Tony brought him, along with a glass of water to wash them down.

"Thanks."

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Stark suggested.

"I have people to talk to," he reminded him.

"They can wait," Tony said. "Even better, I'll talk to them for you."

"You don't mind?"

"No. You get some sleep. You'll feel better."

Peter nodded and put his head back down on the arm of the sofa, but Tony picked him up and carried him into the bedroom before he even had a chance to get cozy. There was no reason for him to sleep any way but comfortably – especially with a bed so close at hand, and he knew Pepper wouldn't mind.

"If you need anything, call me, okay?" he told Peter, covering the boy up.

"Okay."

He watched, just to make sure he didn't need anything just then, but Peter was wiped out, and ready for a nap. Tony brushed a hand along his forehead, which was warm but not dangerously hot, and was already far more asleep than awake.

"Friday, let me know if he gets out of bed."

"You got it."

OOOOOOOOO

"Is he all right?"

Pepper had been watching for their return, and noticed immediately when Tony came back alone.

"Overwhelmed and tired. I put him in our bed."

"It was a rough morning. He'll probably feel better with some peace and quiet."

"I thought so, too."

They looked around the room. The reception was dying down. Happy had left to take Ned and his mother home, and Steve and Bruce were gone, as well. Natasha and Clint were at the bar talking in quiet tones with Stephen, and there were very few people lingering. Outside, the sun had finally forced its way through the rainclouds and the city was glistening all around them.

They walked over to the bar.

"Where's Peter?" Strange asked, curiously.

"In bed. Friday's keeping an eye on him. So to speak."

"Free babysitter. Nice."

Stark rolled his eyes and handed Pepper a drink.

"In case he needs anything. He's old enough to not really need a babysitter."

"And if you two go out of town on a business trip or something…?"

"He could come with us."

"And your trip is during the school week?"

"Then he goes to Uncle Stephen's."

Now it was Strange who rolled his eyes.

"The first one of you who calls me that ends up in the lake naked."

OOOOOOOOO

"Peter?"

"Hmmm?"

"Wake up for a minute, will you?"

He rolled over, toward the voice, and opened his eyes. Pepper was sitting on the edge of the bed, with Strange standing behind her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly afraid something had happened and they were waking him up with bad news.

"Nothing," Pepper assured him. "We want you to eat some dinner before you go back to sleep."

He sat up, and groaned at just how lousy he felt. His head ached, his throat was sore and he felt cold, despite the fact that he'd fallen asleep wearing his sweatshirt.

"Feeling rough, huh?" Strange asked, not missing the reaction.

'Yeah." He pulled a blanket around his shoulders, and realized that he was in his room at the compound. "Did I sleepwalk?"

Pepper smiled, watching while Strange checked his forehead for fever.

"Not this far," she told him. "That would probably be a record."

"I brought you here about an hour ago," Stephen told him. "How do you feel?"

"Awful."

"Yeah, you look awful, too, if it's any consolation."

"It isn't."

""Eat something and you can go back to sleep."

"Where is Mr. Stark?"

"He's in the lounge."

"Natasha?"

"She's there, too."

"They're okay?"

"They're fine," Pepper assured him. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged.

"I don't know. Just worried, I guess."

"Everything's fine, Peter," Strange told him. "They were both here earlier to make sure you were comfortable, but we didn't want to wake you up, then. Feeling up to something to eat?"

"Yeah."

He sneezed, surprising himself and them.

Strange produced a box of tissues and handed it to him.

"Soup?"

"Pancakes?"

"Seriously?"

"I'll give you your hundred dollars back…"

Strange smiled and shook his head.

"Keep it."

A tray with pancakes, syrup, butter and sausages appeared on the edge of the bed. Along with a large glass of orange juice, and a bottle of Tylenol.

"Eat and then go back to sleep, if you can," Stephen told him.

"Okay. Thanks."

They left him to eat his dinner, and Pepper frowned up at Strange when they closed the door to his quarters and headed for the lounge.

"You don't think he's getting any spider sense feelings about Tony and Natasha, do you?"

He shook his head.

"No. I imagine if they'd been the ones to wake him, he would have asked about our well-being. He's had his share of bad news, lately, and looked like he was afraid that we were going to deliver more to him."

"Poor guy."

"It's understandable. And around here it's a valid concern, I suppose, with all that they do."

'We can't shelter him from it."

"No. Especially since he's determined to be a part of it when he's older. We'll get him over his cold, and through the initial grief from losing May and then see what needs to be done to address the issue."

"Tony is going to find a child psychologist."

"That's a good idea."

"For you."

Strange smiled.

"Cute."

He'd need a psychologist if he spent any more time at the compound. A home filled with magical artifacts was somehow far more restful at times. But he had to admit, he liked coming here.

Pepper smirked, and put her arm through his.

She thought so.