Peter hadn't intended to sleep any more that day. He'd already had a fairly restful nap, after all. He was injured, though, and as always, his body took advantage of him being still to use the energy to replenish and recover. Pepper held him until she realized that he'd fallen asleep, then had held him a little longer before she settled him carefully back onto the bed. She'd reached for a blanket, but the cloak shooed her out of the way and draped itself over the boy, tucking itself around Peter even more thoroughly than Pepper could have.

She'd smiled, leaned over and brushed a gentle kiss against his cheek before picking up his tray and taking it with her, closing the door quietly behind her as she left him to his nap.

"How's he doing?" Tony asked, sitting on the sofa with the remote in his hand and a movie playing on the TV above the fireplace.

Jack was sleeping next to him, his head resting in Stark's lap, drool soaking Tony's leg as the puppy dreamed of something that must have been fairly delicious.

Pepper settled herself on the other side, resting her hand on his though and her head on his shoulder.

"He fell asleep. Where's Stephen?"

Stark smirked.

"Natasha made him go outside with her. He's either making blocks for the igloo 2.0 or he is snowshoeing."

"And you didn't go?"

"I offered to puppy sit so Steve could go snowshoeing, as well."

She smiled at the sleeping lab.

"Tough job."

"Why do you think I offered?"

"You're lazy," she accused him.

He put his arm around her but was careful not to dislodge the puppy.

"I know. Want to watch a movie with me? You could always go make snow bricks."

She shook her head.

"I think I'll pass – for now."

OOOOOOO

It was Ned who helped Tony get Peter down the stairs for dinner much later. He'd gone up with Strange and Tony, drenched and needing to change into dry clothes since he was pretty much done playing in the snow. The boy had been excited to see the cloak covering Peter, but he'd held back, getting changed while Strange woke Peter and then checked the gunshot wound before letting him sit up.

"How do you feel?" He'd asked.

"I'm okay."

"Does it hurt?" Ned asked.

"A little."

It always hurt.

"Can I see it?"

Stark rolled his eyes, but Peter understood completely, and smiled.

"Yeah."

Before Stephen could change the bandage, Ned peeked at the crease that ran along Peter's hip. It was still red, but not even close to as raw as it had been when it had happened.

"Wicked."

"No photos, though," Tony told him.

"Right."

Ned finished changing about the same time that Strange finished applying the new bandage and then looked at Peter.

"Does the cloak want to go home, or play dumb blanket?"

Peter shrugged. That wasn't a yes or no question and the relic couldn't answer it. He looked at it.

"Do you want to go home?"

There was an affirmation.

"Can it come back later?" Ned asked.

"If it wants." Strange looked at Tony. "I'm going to take it back to the sanctum and check in with Wong. Do you need anything while I'm gone?"

"No, we're good. Ned can help me get Peter down the stairs. If anyone asks, I'll tell them you're in the shower or something. You might come down with your hair wet."

Strange nodded. The cloak caressed Peter's cheek very briefly and then transferred to the doctor's collar. A moment later they were gone.

"Ready?" Ned asked Peter, offering him an arm to help him to his feet with the least amount of exertion possible.

"Yeah. Thanks."

Peter didn't have to put any weight on his sore hip. Suspended between Tony and Ned – who were both taller than he was – his feet never touched a step, and they practically carried him down the stairs, through the living room and to the dining room table. Natasha, Steve, Elmer, Bruce and MJ were all sitting around the table. They were playing UNO, but Peter shook his head when Tony helped settle him in a chair next to Natasha but close to the entrance to the kitchen. He wasn't interested in joining in their card game.

He looked over and saw that Pepper and Clint were next to the oven and the cabin smelled like a giant hamburger – only with a slight onion tinge to it. Pepper looked over and saw him, said something softly to Clint and then she walked over to the table, while Ned went into the kitchen.

"It's good to see you up," she told him, hugging him from behind and resting her chin on the top of his head for a moment, watching Tony settle next to Peter with the chess board in his hands. "How do you feel?"

"I'm okay, thanks."

"He's going to be feeling down trod and beaten in a minute," Tony told her, winking at Peter. "Because I'm going to steamroll him in chess while we wait for dinner."

"Do not let him goad you into betting anything, Peter," Pepper told him, pulling his head back with her hand and kissing his forehead – frowning because he felt warm. "He'll lose, and I'll have to listen to him whine about you cheating or something."

Peter smiled, but Tony shooed her away.

"Don't listen to her, Peter. We can bet. I'm feeling pretty lucky."

Ned walked over and sat in the chair beside Peter, watching with interest and excitement.

"Bet him that he has to do a snowball fight with us if he loses, Peter."

Stark scowled.

"You're not helping, young man."

Which, of course, only made Ned grin.

"You're not chicken are you, Mr. Stark?"

Which was all it took, of course. Pepper rolled her eyes and thumped Ned's head in mock irritation as she went over and sat down beside Tony.

"Of course I'm not chicken," Stark said. "I'll bet anything. Any time."

"Clearly," Clint said, walking out of the kitchen, a dishtowel over his shoulder. "You lost the jet, once, as I recall."

"I got it back." Stark shrugged. "Peter doesn't have anything to bet, right now. He can't reciprocate with the snowball fight thing. Stephen wouldn't let him."

"If he loses, I'll do dishes tonight instead of you," Ned offered.

"Done."

OOOOOO

"Tell me again why we aren't playing cards?"

Pepper smiled, laying a consoling arm over Tony's shoulder.

"Because Peter isn't good at cards – and is smart enough to admit it."

"Did you just call me dumb?"

"Of course not, dear." She winked over at Peter, who was collecting his pieces from the board to put them back in their box. Tony's pieces were almost all on the side of the board. "Dinner's ready. Why don't you get the troops rallied to set the table for us?"

Ned had been congratulating Peter on his win, but he stood up.

"I'll help."

Peter started to move, automatically, but Stephen put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. The doctor had joined them about twenty minutes after Peter had been challenged by Stark, his hair wet and wearing clean jeans and a sweater.

"They don't need your help," he told the boy. "Wait until you're a little healthier before you try anything too physical."

Peter nodded but felt pretty useless while he watched the others clearing the table and then pulling out plates, cutlery and glasses. Pepper and Clint vanished into the kitchen and returned with a huge pan of meatloaf. Along with it was a bowl of mashed potatoes, corn on the cob and bread. The table fell silent as everyone started eating, hungrily. Most of them because they'd been out playing in the snow all day, the others because it was too good not to eat.

"How does Pepper cook like a chef, and you're worthless in a kitchen?" Strange asked, finally pushing his plate away, satisfied.

"She grew up on a farm," Tony reminded him. "They don't have take out."

The doctor looked over at Pepper, who nodded.

"He's not lying. It was learn to cook, or starve."

"What are we going to do tonight?" Ned asked, cheerfully. He was quite aware of the fact that he should be home, working on homework on a school night and instead was hanging out with the Avengers, Peter and MJ. And Elmer, of course. "After Mr. Stark does dishes, I mean?"

Stark scowled, and pretended to take a swipe at the boy, who ducked with a grin.

"I'm ready to stay inside," Steve admitted, leaning down to pet his puppy, who was watching them eat meatloaf with interest. "Movies, or board games or something quiet as far as I'm concerned."

There was a lot of agreement to that. Of course, for the most part, they had all been pretty active that day, and were ready to wind down a while. Peter hadn't done more than sleep, but he was in complete agreement, too. Sitting like he was had stiffened his hip and he was ready to sit on the couch – or in a beanbag chair. When Tony was done with the dishes.

He would keep him company, first, even if he was just sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen.