"That was amazing…"

Pepper nodded her agreement, watching through the video of Peter's bonfire story for the second time – along with Tony. While they'd been watching it the first time, Wong and the others had disappeared to go to their tents and get ready for bed. They intended to stay up for a while, still, but there was no reason not to do it in clothes that were warm against the chill of the Wakandan night. Warm and didn't smell of campfire smoke.

"Yes." She smiled, wondering if Alec had helped Peter, or if the boy was just a naturally good storyteller. He didn't have many chances, after all, and it could be a hidden talent. "You can't make a big fuss about this, though…"

"Why not?" Tony asked, looking surprised. "He did a great job."

"And you can tell him that," she confirmed. "But no super long hugs, and you can't be clingy when he comes back from walking Shuri to her camp."

"I'm not going to be clingy…" Tony objected. "I'm never clingy."

"Like a dryer sheet," Romanoff said, emerging out of the night without a sound. She smirked at his scowl. "Especially with Peter."

"It's not being clingy," he said, pretending to be offended, even though he knew they were probably right. It wasn't his fault the kid was so amazing, now was it? "It's called being a dad."

"A clingy dad," Natasha added.

"Who's a clingy dad?"

Now Pepper and Tony both started – although Natasha only smiled a welcome to Peter, who came up to the bonfire even more silently than Natasha had. Not surprising, of course.

"Your dad is," Romanoff answered.

"Don't listen to her, son," Tony said. He noticed he was alone. "Did you take Shuri back to her camp?"

"Yeah. She'll see us, tomorrow, though."

Since the fire was died down enough that it didn't need to be watched – although they'd allow it to burn until Steve and Carol returned to camp – Tony offered Pepper his arm and as a group they headed for the main tent.

"One more ceremony and then we're done, pretty much," he told them. "I like the idea of the gathering, though. It makes a lot of sense."

They walked into the tent, and found Stephen making coffee, with Wong keeping him company The two men had been discussing the bonfire stories that they'd attended, that night.

"It's a good way to keep people who are so spread out connected," Wong agreed. "Especially people who are so varied." He looked at Peter as the boy seated himself at the table, next to Tony, who put a hand on his shoulder, affectionately. "Your story was very appropriate for the theme that I've noticed, here."

Peter smiled, glancing at Tony, but then back at Wong.

"I thought about telling them my own origin story," he admitted. "About getting bit by the spider, I mean." The Wakandans were the only people as a whole that he knew he'd have been able to share that story with. "But that isn't really where my story with the Avengers began, did it?"

"No. It began when you met Ironman at the expo," Tony confirmed. "Even though I didn't know it was you, at the time."

"Right." Because that was when Peter had decided that he wanted to be like Tony Stark. "Did you see it? Natasha said she was going to make a recording…"

"We've watched it a couple of times," Pepper told him, smiling. "It was amazing."

Peter flushed with pleasure.

"Thanks."

"How did Shuri like it?" Natasha asked.

"She said it was good. She has a copy, too," he added. "And she's going to show T'Challa and her mom."

"And probably everyone else."

They were interrupted by the arrival of Jack, barreling his way through the tent door, and followed by Steve and Carol, who both looked cheerful.

"How did it go?" Carol asked Peter as they walked in and realized everyone was present. "You didn't fall into the bonfire, or something, did you?"

The boy grinned, and shook his head. That was what he got for admitting to her that he was – maybe – a little nervous that something would happen and he'd come out of the storytelling looking like an idiot.

"It went good."

"It went well," Pepper corrected, before Stephen could. "We have a recording if you're interested."

"Of course," Steve agreed. He looked at Wong. "I made a recording, of the one I watched, too."

"Thank you."

Carol and Steve seated themselves at the table, and a larger display was brought out, so everyone could have a chance to watch the stories from the night (especially Peter's) before they wound down and decided to call it a night and go to bed. The next day wasn't going to be that complicated, and they had very few actual responsibilities (those were for the hosts, and for T'Challa, as king) but it would start early and would be filled with much activity as they finished up the gathering, said their goodbyes to everyone, and packed up their camp after lunch.

Tony tousled Peter's hair before letting his hand drop to the boy's shoulder, again. He wasn't making a big fuss, now was he? And he wasn't being clingy, despite the fact that his hand was on Peter's shoulder. That was just a dad thing, after all.

OOOOOOOO

The African plain was dimly lit, but even in the low light Taneleer Tavin could see the large tree and the powerful cats that sprawled, apparently lazily, on many of the branches. The Collector looked around, well aware that he was walking the Astral plane, but unaware of how he had come to be there, since he knew that he, himself, hadn't done it. The Astral plane was governed – subtly – by the soul stone, and the Elder knew that many souls used the place to converse with those who had gone on. It wasn't something that he did, however, since he had very little reason to seek out people who were ling since dead.

Tavin frowned, watching the cats, since they were the only signs of life – and the only ones who felt of any kind of power. He turned, walking toward them.

"Did you need something?" he asked, torn between fascination that someone had pulled him to the Astral plane without asking, and annoyance that someone had pulled him to the Astral plane without asking. "I have other things to do, today…" he added.

The cat – a panther, his agile mind told him – leapt down from the branch, and stretched. A moment later, the others all followed his lead, and then there was a flare of light, and where the cats had been, there now stood a small group of people. A mix of male and female, of old and some younger, but all regal looking and holding themselves straight and proud.

"Nothing you do today will be as important as this conversation," the first said to him.

"Oh?" He wondered if the reality stone was somehow affecting his mind and his senses. Perhaps he was dreaming this? It made more sense than the idea that something was able to move him without his consent. "I'm listening."

The man smiled.

"It is not the reality stone that needed you here," came the answer to the unspoken question. "And this is no dream. You have something that is needed."

"Needed?" he echoed. "By who? For what?"

"The boy is in need, and your collection possesses the solution."

"Peter?"

There was only one boy that Tavin knew of – at least, only one that he was at all interested in.

"Correct."

"Is he collecting the stones, again?" The collector asked, torn between concern that something might be coming for his own treasure, and excitement at the thought of seeing the impact of all of the stones being wielded, again. "What danger could possibly be more serious than the mad Titan?"

"No," one of the women said. "This is something else – although the stones are making themselves felt to ensure that there is no chance of misunderstanding. The stones are not needed for this. Peter has a health issue, and there is a cure in your collection. We need it."

The Collector frowned. He didn't give his collection away, now did he? It wouldn't be much of a collection if he allowed people to have even the smallest items from it. Before he could say anything, the man spoke, again.

"You told him if he needed anything, to contact you," he reminded the Elder.

Taneleer scowled.

"How did you know that?"

It had been sincere at the time, of course, but that had been the boy. Not some nameless soul left to dwell in the Astral plane.

"Peter is connected to the mind stone," the man reminded him. "The mind stone connects to everyone – living and dead. Including yourself. The stones want the boy whole, and they will do whatever is needed to make it happen."

"Including taking a small item from your collection and giving it to Peter," added the woman. "He can use it to fix his issue, and then you will be left in peace to continue your own pursuits."

The Collector scowled; he wasn't used to being ordered around, and he definitely wasn't going to be bullied into giving anything of his away. Not for the boy – amazing as he was – and not for the stones.

"No."

A sudden light flared at the instant he spoke the single word, and now the powerful entity felt something even more powerful and ancient than himself pressing against his mind. Even in the Astral plane where he wasn't actually in corporeal form so there shouldn't be any discomfort, the Collector felt a touch of what he knew, immediately, was the combined will of the stones of power. They weren't hurting him, but – like the woman had said – they were making themselves felt. And making sure he understood that no wasn't the desired response. He made a soft noise – biting down on a whimper – and the pressure eased, just a little, allowing him to open his eyes just as the light faded, once more.

The old man smiled, slightly.

"Perhaps you might reconsider?"

Still frowning, but unwilling to subject himself to that sensation, again, the Collector shrugged, forcing a nonchalance that he didn't feel.

"Perhaps…"