"Well?"

"He's sick. Really sick. He should be in a hospital."

"What would they do there that a doctor couldn't do here?"

"I'm not sure what you want me to do."

"I want you to heal him."

"You don't know what's wrong with him."

"Right. That's where you come in." A hand against his cheek. "We have to find out what has him so sick."

"I don't know what you've been told about me, Mr. Stark, bu-"

"You'd be surprised what I've heard about you. Right now, though, I need a doctor. I've heard you're the best."

I'm not really that kind of doctor. You need a diagnostician. I'm not-"

"Mr. Strange-"

"Doctor Strange."

"Exactly. You're a doctor. He's sick. You took an oath, didn't you?"

"I'm a brain surgeon."

"And I've been told that this is a neurological problem. That means the brain, right?"

There was an exasperated sigh.

"Yes."

"He's had seizures and hallucinations and God only knows what else. There has to be a reason. I'm told you're the man I need to find that reason."

"Anyone could-"

"Please?"

A long silence.

"I'll need help."

"Whatever you need."

"A place to work."

"You can take your pick."

Another hand, this one on his forehead.

"No promises."

"I understand."

"Peter!"

He opened his eyes with a sharp gasp, and found himself staring up at the ceiling. He also felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Easy."

Peter looked over and saw Natasha Romanoff leaning over the bed, putting a fair amount of force against the grip on his shoulder. Her eyes were concerned, but he only noticed that she was badly bruised around her nose.

"Natasha…"

She nodded, leaning back and releasing her hold now that she knew he was awake and lucid.

"Bad dream?"

He shook his head, sitting up so he could look around. He saw an unfinished game of solitaire on the table near where she was now sitting on the bed.

"I thought someone called my name."

She frowned.

"I'm the only one here."

The voice had been masculine, he was sure, but she right. There wasn't anyone else in the room.

"Weird."

"Maybe you imagined it."

"Yeah. Maybe."

She smiled at the confusion in his expression, but definitely preferred it over the fear or panic they'd all seen before.

"How do you feel?"

"Okay."

"I heard you were out of bed for a while earlier."

"Yeah." He hesitated, and then gestured at her face. "I'm really sorry I hurt you."

Natasha smiled and shrugged.

"You just got in a lucky shot," she told him. "It's as much my fault as yours."

"I didn't mean to-"

She stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Relax, Peter," she said. "You know what happens when you break a man's nose?"

"What?"

"He gets ugly. Lopsided." She pointed to her own face. "Know what happens when you break a woman's nose?"

"What?"

"Free nose job. Better than ever. Now stop worrying about it. Okay?"

He nodded.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"I've been here about two hours."

"Watching me sleep? Boring."

Her smile was amused.

"It's better than some things I've done. Much more relaxing. Do you need anything?"

He shook his head, rubbing his face, trying to wake up a little.

"No. I don't think so."

"Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Want to play cards?"

He snorted.

"You're probably better off playing solitaire. I can watch."

"There has to be some card game you're not terrible at. It's just a matter of finding it. Besides, it'll be a good distraction from being stuck in bed."

And would give him a chance to wake up.

Peter shrugged. He was pretty sure she had a million others things she could be doing, but he didn't want to count ceiling tiles.

"Okay."

Natasha reached for the table and rolled it closer.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Tony wasn't surprised to see Natasha in Peter's room when he walked in the door. He'd stopped by the lounge to check on the general mood of the place and Banner had mentioned Fury had asked her to keep an eye on the boy – just in case there was another nightmare. Stark agreed with Fury, but he was also willing to concede that he might just be overreacting. It was probably a little early for dinner, so he grabbed some snacks in the lounge to take along, and went to check on him and to spell Romanoff in case she needed a break.

He was a little surprised that he found them playing cards. They both looked up at his entrance, and Stark decided after a quick glance that Peter looked much better than he had. He still looked pale and tired, but his eyes were alert and he liked the smile the boy gave him when he walked over.

"I thought I warned you away from cards," he said, dumping the snacks on the side of the bed since there wasn't room on the table for them. The two of them were playing WAR, and Natasha had most of the deck on her side.

"Natasha thought we could find a game I'm good at."

"And?"

She smirked.

"We played Go Fish and Rummy – I even taught him Poopnboots – and he managed to get thrashed. So we switched to WAR, which he should have-"

"Poopinboots?" Tony echoed. "Do I even want to know?"

"Peter can teach you. Although I wouldn't advise it." Her grin was amused, and it made Peter and Tony both smile. "He's amazing at losing at cards. I'd never believe it if I weren't seeing it firsthand."

"It's just a talent I have," the boy said, shrugging. He didn't look too annoyed at the teasing, and Tony decided he wasn't. Of course, it probably helped that Romanoff was a beautiful woman – despite, or maybe even because of – the spectacular bruising around her eyes just then, and that always made losing a little easier.

"I even went easy on him."

"Does he owe you any money?"

"I'm too smart for that," Peter told him. "We played for future favors."

She smirked again, and gathered up the cards.

"If I ever need a kidney, I'm set."

Tony sat down on the other side of the bed and handed Peter a bag of chips before opening one for himself.

"Can I play?"