AN: Hey all. I'm doing much better, thank you so much for those who've reached out to check on me. Now it's just the craziness that is family and work and the holidays. I hope to be getting myself back into a schedule and updating more often, now.

OOOOOOO

"Remember, you can't tell anyone."

Ned grinned and shook his head, waving at Tony and Pete as he and Peter walked up to the door of his apartment building.

"Who would believe me?"

Good point.

"Yeah."

"You're going to be at practice next week?"

"Yeah."

Because it was the run up to Thanksgiving, there was only going to be a practice on Tuesday. Wednesday had early dismissal for the school and no practice, and there wasn't any school on Thursday – obviously – or Friday.

"Is Pete coming?"

"Benjamin," Peter reminded him, opening the door for his friend and shaking his head.

"No. Tony thinks it's going to be too risky. You figured it out, after all, someone else might, too."

"I figured it out because I know you – and him – better than the others do."

"Yeah. But MJ is pretty observant, and she might catch on that something is up. Then when she asked me and I had to try and think of a good lie it would just make her mad at me, and Tony and Pepper don't want me to have to deal with that."

"Yeah, I don't blame them." Ned shook his head. "Pete has it a bit easier in his world, doesn't he? Not having to hide his identity and not needing to put up with Flash's shit since he knows Pete could kick his ass if he wanted to."

Peter shrugged.

"Not that he would."

"Maybe." Ned shrugged. "He hangs around Wong and Doctor Strange more than Tony, and they're not as willing to put up with shit like that."

Peter smiled at that.

"Tony probably wouldn't be, either," he pointed out. "But he has to be a good example for me."

"True."

"You might be wrong, though," Peter added. "Because Pete has May, still, and you and I both know how she'd react if I got in a fight just because someone was being a dick."

"Yeah."

They were silent as they walked up the stairs to Ned's apartment rather than taking the elevator, both thinking about May and the calming influence she always had on the people (mainly the boys) around her.

Peter stayed long enough to say hello to Ned's mom and wish his family a happy thanksgiving before accepting a box of rolls from her and a kiss to the cheek that made Ned smirk. He told Ned that he'd see him on Friday and trotted down the stairs whistling, cheerfully.

"I was wondering if you were planning on staying the night," Tony told him when he got into the car and handed the box of rolls back to Pete, who was in the backseat of Peter's Pontiac.

"Ned's mom said to tell you hello."

"She made rolls?" Pete asked, looking pleased.

"Always does."

Of course, Pete already knew that. He was surprised, though, when he opened the box.

"What are these?" he asked. "They're orange."

"They're orange," Peter told him, buckling his seatbelt but turning to look back at him. "Ned's mom makes them especially for me because Tony doesn't like me eating cinnamon rolls."

Pete had heard the story about how Peter had almost died – a warning from Tony to the boy to make sure something like that didn't happen to the boy in his own reality.

"Are they better than the cinnamon ones?" Pete asked, looking down at the treats.

They looked – and smelled – incredible.

"We'll have some tonight," Peter assured him. "They don't last long."

"Because they're amazing." Tony looked over at Peter. "We do have a couple of things to talk about, though," he told the boy. "Stephen and Wong are coming, tonight, after dinner."

"Did they figure something out?" Pete asked, closing the box and setting it on the seat beside him.

"They're still working on it, from what I understand," Tony replied, keeping an eye on traffic and also watching the boy's reaction. He didn't want to get Pete's hopes up until there was more to tell. "But Stephen mentioned wanting to talk to Peter and asked that Nutmeg be close at hand."

"Nutmeg?" Peter echoed before Pete could. "Why?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "We'll have to wait and see."

"Weird," Pete said, looking confused.

Peter nodded.

"Yeah."

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Are there any rolls left?"

"How did you know we had rolls?" Pepper asked Stephen, who arrived – with Wong – promptly after those at the compound had finished eating dinner. "Wait… let me guess. A magic spell?"

Well aware that she was teasing him, and more than willing to allow it with humor and good grace (since he liked Pepper) Strange shook his head with a smirk.

"A little bird told me."

"Natasha?" Peter guessed.

He was sitting in the lounge with Tony and Pepper – as well as Pete, Steve, and Natasha. Also present and clearly hoping to mooch a snack was Ironpig. Nutmeg was dozing in his cat tree, filled with a fine dinner, as well.

"Of course." Stephen sat down beside Romanoff, who smiled at him in greeting, and Wong sat beside Peter. The sorcerer supreme looked at Pete. "How are you holding up?"

The boy nodded.

"I'm okay."

"Tony's taking good care of you?"

Pete smiled.

"He beats me and left me locked in a closet while everyone was gone."

Stark pretended to take a swipe at the boy while Pepper and the others chuckled.

"I told you not to tell…"

Stephen smirked, relieved that the boy wasn't appearing to be panicking or stressing. It was definitely the company he was keeping, Strange knew. If a teenager was going to get stranded in a reality that wasn't his own, Tony Stark was the one to get stuck with. At least, this Tony was. Certainly there were realities out there where Tony was an ass.

"What have you two come up with?" Pepper asked, curiously. "Have you had any luck figuring out how to get Pete home?"

"We're focusing on the figurine," Wong told them.

"I thought it was gone?"

"Well, that's the thing…" Stephen replied. "It was swallowed by a Flerkin while both were in the Collector's possession."

"What's a Flerkin?" Pete asked, curiously.

"A creature of legend," Wong replied, looking mysterious – almost certainly on purpose. "As rare as a unicorn, and reputed to be one of the deadliest beasts that ever lived."

Strange rolled his eyes.

"They're also suspected of holding a pocket dimension within them, and that's what we're holding out hope of taking advantage of in this…"

"I don't understand," Tony admitted. "If the Collector's Flerkin ate it, how is that going to help us?"

"Because Wong thinks – and some others agree with him – that it is doubtful that each Flerkin has its own pocket dimension. It's crazy to assume that there would be so many out there, when one would suffice for all of them. The theory we're working with is that it's a shared dimension."

"So you're thinking that the figurine is out there in that pocket dimension, still?"

"That's the thought," Strange confirmed. "Obviously, we don't know where that dimension is, but we found a spell that should be able to track something if it were to go there."

"If it's that easy to track something," Pepper said, frowning. "Why not just track something that belongs to Pete in his own dimension?"

"Because dimensions and realities are different, Pepper," Stephen replied, not looking at all annoyed by the question. "We regularly jump dimensions," he said, gesturing to himself and Wong. "It's not easy, but it isn't impossible. There aren't that many, really; only a billion, or so, at last count."

"Only a billion, he says," Tony muttered, shaking his head.

That earned a smirk from Wong.

"Realities are much more plentiful," the other magician told them. "Some speculate that every decision a person makes creates an alternate reality. Others think that it's only decisions that are important to that person. Either way, if you think about how many decisions a single person makes in a single day, you can understand why finding the right place to return Peter isn't as simple as finding the dimension that holds this figurine. The figurine is the key to finding the right place to send him, because it's linked with the one that is in his own reality."

"I don't understand…" Pete said, speaking up. He wasn't confused about the differences between realities and dimensions, since he knew about them from working with Strange, already. But he was definitely running into a different concern. "If these Flerkin are so rare – and so dangerous – how does it help us to know that one ate the figurine in this reality? Are you going on a Flerkin hunt?"

Strange smiled.

"We don't have to," he told the boy. "Peter has a Flerkin."

"And so do you," Natasha added, smiling.

"What?"

Peter stood up and walked over to the cat tree, sliding his fingers along Nutmeg's head, tenderly, to wake the kitten up before he picked him up and cuddled him, carrying him back over to the table.

"Nutmeg's a Flerkin."