Sam, Natasha, and Clint were in the lounge when Tony and Steve arrived. A quick glance around the room showed the billionaire that Peter was in the lounge, too, only he was asleep on the sofa, so bundled in the blanket that Natasha had wrapped him in that all Stark could see was a mop of curls. He leaned over the back of the couch to check on him, but still couldn't see much more than just his hair. The little boy had his face buried in the soft pillow.

Steve had gone to sit with the others at the table, and Tony walked over, as well.

Romanoff caught him with her killer glare as soon as he was close enough to see it.

"What the hell, Tony?"

He raised his hands, defensively.

"I got mad. I overreacted."

"You think?" She said, sarcastically, only keeping her voice down because she didn't want to wake the sleeping boy. "He was in tears. What did you say to him?"

"I told him to get his things packed because I was taking him home." Stark replied. "I was angry."

"It's not an excuse. He could have really hurt himself, running into that tree. You had no right to-"

"He tried to hack my AI, Natasha. He turned JARVIS against me."

"He didn't do anything to JARVIS," Steve reminded the billionaire.

"I thought he did at the time." Tony frowned. "What did the doctor say?"

"Nothing's broken. He just hit his face and cut his lip."

"We're supposed to keep an eye on him," Clint added. "When he wakes up."

"You're not taking him home, right now," Natasha told him, firmly. "He was promised a day with us, and you're not ruining that any more than you already have."

Stark scowled. He didn't like being told what to do. Even by someone as formidable as Natasha Romanoff. Before he could argue with her, though – and he wasn't completely sure that he even wanted to – James Rhodey walked into the lounge, dressed casually in jeans and a polo. He was quick to note the annoyed expressions on Romanoff's face and Tony's.

"Uh oh, what did I miss?"

"Tony traumatized Peter, and Natasha's mad at him for it," Clint replied, amused, now that he'd seen for himself that Tony was over being mad, and wasn't being too much of an ass.

He loved watching those to spar, verbally. Nat was more than capable of handling anyone. Even someone like Tony Stark.

"I didn't traumatize him," Tony snapped. "I said some things that I shouldn't have, but I'll apologize and make it up to him."

Rhodes raised an eyebrow.

"Peter's here?"

"Sleeping on the couch," Sam said. "So keep your voice down."

"He won't sleep long, anyway," Natasha said – although her voice was soft. "He doesn't sleep too much."

"How do you know that?" Tony asked.

"He told me while we were hiding in the air ducts, yesterday."

Rhodey frowned, confused.

"Why were you hiding in the air ducts?"

"Long story," Natasha told him. "You're going to dogfight with Tony, later, when Peter wakes up."

"What? Why?"

"Because I promised Peter that we would," Tony said.

"And now he has to make up for being a jerk," Clint added, helpfully.

"It's raining."

"You could do it without the suits," Steve said, shrugging. "But it wouldn't be as much fun for him to watch."

"Although I'd find it hilarious," Natasha told them, smirking.

Rhodes frowned, looking over at Tony, who shrugged.

"C'mon, Rhodey. You won't melt."

"Fine."

"Thank you."

The other man just shrugged, too. He liked dogfighting with Tony, truth be told. Stark was good with his suit, of course, but Rhodes was a military man and knew tactics. He actually had a chance of beating him, occasionally.

"You owe me lunch, though."

"Sure." Tony looked at the others. "How long did the doctor say we should allow Peter to sleep?"

"He didn't tell us to let him sleep," Natasha told him. "He fell asleep once we got him calmed down a bit."

"My kids do that," Clint said, knowingly. "They'll throw a fit, or have a crying jag, and once that adrenaline is done, they're out."

"For how long?"

Stark was anxious to talk to Peter, and to make sure the blow to the head didn't addle him, or something.

"Depends on the kid."

"Huh."

"He's fine, Tony," Steve said. "We have about an hour until lunch. If he's still sleeping, then, we'll wake him up so he can eat, and then check him out."

"Until then, you can show me the specs that you have set up for the trial on your new suit," Rhodes suggested.

"Sure." He looked at the couch, again. "But in here, okay? The door to my workroom is broken, and I don't want to be bothered when Steve sends someone to fix it."

"The one leading out to the field is, too," Hawkeye told them.

Romanoff frowned.

"Did Peter break them on his way out?"

"He's a little kid," Rhodes reminded them. "I don't know about the one in the hall, but I know he couldn't have done that much damage to a maglock door."

Natasha just shrugged, and looked at Sam and Clint, who were also looking speculative.

"What is it?" Tony asked, not missing the silent exchange.

"Nothing," Natasha replied. "Just thinking about something I was told, earlier." She stood up. "I'm going to go get some work done. Call me for lunch."

"I'll come, too," Sam said, getting up, also.

"So will I," Clint agreed.

The three left, and Rhodes looked at Stark.

"What was that all about?"

"Who knows?" Tony answered with a shrug.

It wasn't like Romanoff would tell him unless she wanted to, anyway.

"I'll be back in a bit," Steve told them.

He had doors to get fixed.

"So what happened?" Rhodey asked his friend once they all were gone.

"It's a long story."

"And you're going to tell me, right?"

Tony sighed.

"Yeah."

OOOOOOOO

"Peter…?"

He felt a hand touching his cheek, and it woke him from a sound sleep. The boy felt a shiver of irritation at being woken – he didn't sleep well, but when he did, it was so nice…

The hand brushed his hair from his forehead, and it was gentle and warm.

"Hey, buddy, wake up a bit."

He opened his eyes, sleepily, and found himself looking at Tony, who was leaning over him. Peter remembered, suddenly, that Tony was mad at him, and that he'd told him to pack, and he hadn't done that. He woke with a gasp, eyes filling with tears before he could stop them.

"I didn't pack…" he said, trying to sit up but tangled in the blanket that he remembered he'd been sharing with Natasha. "I'm sorry! I'll go-"

"Hey…" Tony's hand was on his chest, holding him still, and his expression was troubled. "It's okay."

If there had been any question that he'd well and truly fucked up, that was certainly answered, Tony decided, seeing the fear and tears in the little boy's eyes.

"No. I-"

"Peter…" he reached down with both hands and picked the child up, gathering him into his arms, blanket and all. "Hey… I'm sorry. You don't have to pack, okay? I was mad, and I never should have taken it out on you like I did. I'm not taking you home. Not right now, anyway. Not until we're done having our fun afternoon."

"I don't?"

"No, buddy. I'm sorry I upset you." He was holding him close, trying to comfort but not really very good at it. "I'm really sorry."

Peter's tears didn't stop.

"I'm sorry, too."

Tony hugged him until the boy gained a little more control of his tears, just holding him and making soft noises designed to comfort and reassure. Peter eventually relaxed enough to allow his cheek to drop to the man's shoulder, and even through the blankets Tony could feel him relaxing.

"It's almost lunch time," Stark told him. "Are you hungry? Or do you want to go back to sleep?"

"I'm hungry."

He nodded and then set him down so he could get untangled from the blanket, feeling a little better, himself.

"Good. Rhodey's here. When we're done eating, he and I are going to put on our suits and do a dogfight so you can see what they can do. Yeah?"

"Okay." Peter smiled, uncertainly, and Tony saw that the bruise on his chin was purple.

The lip wasn't so swollen, though, as he had been worried that it would. Aware that it was his fault that Peter had hurt himself at all, Tony had to fight down the urge to hug the kid, again.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."

Peter shrugged, uncertain how to respond to that.

"It's okay."

"What was it that you needed?" Tony asked. "When you spoke with JARVIS, I mean? You know I'd give you anything that you ask for."

He had to know that, even though Tony had just realized the truth of the statement right as he was saying it. Yes, because he felt guilty, of course, but also because he liked Peter, and wanted his smile to be the happy one that he liked so much. Not the uncertain expression that he knew was his own fault.

Peter hesitated, and then shook his head and looked down to untangle the blankets.

"It's alright," he answered. "I'll figure it out."

Maybe Natasha and them would still be willing to help, but he didn't want Tony to think that he wanted anything from him. He didn't want to see him mad at him, again. Or ever.

Tony wanted to argue with him. Wanted to tell him that he meant what he was saying, because he didn't know didley about kids, but he'd spent enough time with Peter to recognize that he was a bit subdued. He didn't argue, though. It wasn't going to help for him to try and convince Peter he was sincere. He'd screwed up, and he'd lost something between them because of it.

That wasn't on Peter, though, and Tony knew it.

If it was going to be fixed, it was going to be him that needed to fix it. He just nodded, and picked Peter up, easily, tucking him into his embrace.

"Come on," he said, carrying him over to the table on the other side of the room where Rhodes was sitting, waiting for Tony – and the others – and looking at some information on the tablet he was holding. "Let's get you ready to eat."

Rhodes smiled a greeting when Tony settled the boy into the chair with the books as a booster.

"Hey, Cheese Pizza. Remember me?"

Peter smiled, too, echoing the cheerfulness he could easily read in the man's expression – and his eyes.

"Hello. Yes."

"Rhodey is War Machine," Tony reminded Peter, sitting down, too. "You knew that, right? I told you."

"Yes."

"What happened to your face, Cheese Pizza?" Rhodes asked, reaching out and frowning at the bruise as he prodded the area around it, carefully. "Did Tony beat you up?"

That made Peter's smile broaden, despite the stab of pain from the split lip.

"No. I ran into a tree."

"Better watch where you're going," he was told, as the others began filing into the room, as well. "You'll give the Avengers a reputation for being bad hosts."