"That's incredible…"

"Natasha Romanoff is correct, sir," JARVIS said. "He's an amazing little guy."

Tony had watched Peter work his way up the line of dumbbells in disbelief, each being picked up, easily, by the little boy. Now they were simply playing with the basketball; Sam and Peter playing keep away from Natasha and Clint, and the little boy running around full bore, but proving that he definitely didn't have super speed.

He was pretty agile, though.

"Yes, he is. Did he tell you about being so strong?"

"Yes."

"What could possibly have done that to him?" Stark asked his AI. "I mean, genetics? Radiation? What kind? How did it make him strong, but not simply kill him?"

"I have been running scenarios since he told me of it," JARVIS told him. "But Peter doesn't know the type of radiation used, and I wasn't able to locate any experiments using anything but low-level types of microwave radiation at the lab he visited with his class. If it was another kind of experiment, then it wasn't in their records, and it certainly wasn't approved by their charter."

"Huh. So it happened in a lab?"

Tony had simply been throwing ideas out, as he usually did when trying to solve a puzzle.

There was a slight hesitation, as if the AI realized that it had given away more than intended.

"Correct. During a school field trip."

"And Pepper wonders why I don't like field trips…" Tony frowned. "What lab?"

"Osborn International."

Stark knew the name well.

"So it could be anything, really… they do a shit ton of research on a lot of secretive things."

"Correct. But none of their security protocols can keep me out. Whatever they were working on when Peter was there is off the grid."

Tony watched as Peter overran his own feet and stumbled as he chased Clint to try and get the ball back that the archer had just stolen. He smiled at the grin on the boy's face.

"Maybe I'll talk to Bruce. He gets strong…"

"And turns green. Peter doesn't."

"Well, yeah. But it'll be a start." He shrugged. "The why isn't nearly as important as the what, I suppose."

But he hated not knowing why something happened.

"I will continue to look into the possibilities."

"You do that."

Tony was suddenly restless, because he'd learned something new and astounding about Peter, and he thought that he'd already known everything he needed to know about the boy. He wanted to go to the gym and confront him. Wanted to ask him a million questions about how this had happened. He knew that he couldn't, though. Not the question part, anyway. It was his fault that Peter hadn't told him what he'd told Natasha and the others, and now he was going to have to figure out a way to regain the trust that he'd lost when he'd yelled at the boy. Barging into the gym and demanding information wasn't going to work. He looked at the screen, again, and smiled when saw that they were playing some kind of tag, now, and the sound of Peter's laughter was echoing through the large room.

"Call Pepper Potts," he said, still smiling.

He had to make a couple of calls, but then he thought – maybe – he'd wander down to the gym and watch them. Or maybe play, too. Who knew?

OOOOOOOOOO

"Why aren't you asleep?"

"I'm not sleepy."

Tony frowned, reaching a hand out and brushing Peter's hair back from his forehead. The little boy was sitting in the lounge on the couch, reading one of the books that he'd pulled from the shelf. Steve hadn't been annoyed with him, when he'd found him there the day before, so Peter assumed that it would be alright for him to return, when he'd woken from a bad dream and hadn't been able to go back to sleep.

"Feeling okay?" Tony asked, suddenly worried that the soaking he'd taken the morning before had made him sick, or something.

Maybe the doctor had missed something? What if his lip was infected, and it was making him sick? Common sense told him that he was being ridiculous, but he was responsible for the little guy, just then, and he wanted to make sure he was doing right by him.

Peter's own response dispelled those concerns.

"Yes. Just not tired."

He didn't have a fever, Tony decided, and the bruise on his chin looked much less serious hours from the worry that he'd felt when it had happened. Even his lip didn't seem so badly cut when Tony pulled it back to take a peek.

"You looked pretty tired, earlier."

Stark had joined them in the gym and even though he didn't run around much, Peter had. He'd chased Clint, and Sam – and even Natasha, trying to get the ball and make baskets. By the time Peter's normal bedtime came, the Avengers had worn the little boy out. They'd stopped in the lounge to have a before bedtime snack – nothing with sugar to avoid making him bounce off the walls – and then it had been Tony who had put him to bed, with the promise of pancakes for breakfast the next morning.

Only JARVIS had woken the billionaire sometime around two am, advising him that Peter was moving around the corridors, and had ended up in the lounge. Still concerned about aftermaths of the soaking he'd taken, and wanting to keep him out of the way – especially in a super secure facility such as the compound – Tony had rolled out of his bed, immediately.

Dressed in the sweats and long-sleeved shirt he'd gone to bed in, Tony had simply slid his feet into slippers and gone to make sure he was alright, and to put him back to bed.

"I was, then," Peter told him. "Just not, now."

"Do you often have trouble sleeping?"

Peter nodded.

"Sometimes. Eric lets me stay up, as long as I don't short myself, he says. Usually I read, or work on school stuff." He hesitated. "Or talk to JARVIS."

Tony nodded.

"He's good company."

"Yeah." Peter held up the book he'd been reading. "I thought I'd just stay out of the way and read."

"Which is fine," Stark said, reaching out and picking the child up. "But I don't want you going home and Eric thinking we're keeping you up all hours of the night. Bad enough he's already going to know we let you run face-first into a tree. He's not going to let you come back if you're tired, grumpy and beat up, and I really want to be able to bring you back."

Peter smiled, his expressive eyes looking surprised.

"You do?"

"Yeah. If you do, that is?"

"Wow."

Tony's smile was amused, and he felt his insides turn to goo as Peter put his arms around him, allowing his cheek to fall to Stark's shoulder.

"So that's a yes?"

"Yes."

"Good. It won't be next weekend, but we'll see about the weekend after that."

"Okay."

"But only if you go to sleep."

"I'll try."

They were quiet as Tony carried Peter to his little room and put him back to bed. The little arms – so much stronger than they should have been – held him until the very last minute, only letting him go when Tony had Peter settled. Those big brown eyes Tony was beginning to become so fond of watched him as the billionaire pulled the blankets up over him, tucking them around him, carefully.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked the boy.

"Yes."

Tony hesitated. Peter didn't look at all sleepy, and it bothered him to think of the boy laying in the dark, alone.

"Want me to sit with you for a while?" he asked, uncertainly, wondering how the offer would be accepted.

Maybe he was reading things wrong and Peter was just waiting for him to leave so he could close his eyes. The boy nodded, though, looking hopeful.

"For a little while?" He asked, "Please?"

"Sure." He shifted, moving onto the bed until he was sitting next to where Peter was, and he used one of the extra pillows to prop himself up. "I used to have trouble sleeping when I was younger," he told Peter.

"You did?"

"Mh-mmm." He brushed Peter's bangs back. "Probably all really smart kids do," he added. "Can't get your mind to shut off enough to sleep the whole night through."

"I have bad dreams, sometimes," Peter admitted.

"Yeah? About what?"

"All kinds of things. People chasing me. Monsters in the dark. I used to make May mad, always wanting my light on. She said it kept her awake, even when it was in my room, because she knew I was wasting power that she had to pay for."

"That's rough, buddy. Does Eric let you have a night lite?"

"He would," Peter said, turning a little so he could look up at Tony. "But it would keep the other kids awake. And that wouldn't be fair to them."

There were two boys in the same room as Peter, Tony knew. Ned, who was twelve and the closest to Peter's age, and a thirteen-year-old named Chad. There were two other rooms, aside from the one for Eric and his wife, and their lone biological son, who had a room of his own.

"That's considerate of you."

Peter smiled, sleepily.

"If they don't sleep they would be grumpy. So it's kind of self-defense, too."

"Have any of them ever tried to hurt you?"

Peter shook his head.

"Not physically. Eric doesn't allow that. They bully me, sometimes – because I'm littlest."

"And smarter than them?"

"Yeah."

"I used to get a lot of shit for being smarter than all of the kids around me, too," Tony assured him, settling in a little more comfortably. "It isn't easy, is it?"

"No." The little boy snuggled himself against Tony's side, almost automatically, as if he realized that Tony was willing to cuddle. "Steve wouldn't like you saying shit, you know… He'd say you're corrupting me."

"Don't tell him, okay?"

"Okay."

Tony rubbed Peter's back, absently, and changed the subject to some of the easier points of the test that the boy had passed, wanting him back in his comfort zone, but not thinking so hard that it would keep him awake.

Eventually Peter drifted off back to sleep, and Tony smiled, detaching himself carefully, before covering him back up and heading back to his own room.

Putting a little kid to bed wasn't something that he was used to doing, but he thought that he'd done alright for a beginner.

"JARVIS? Let me know if Peter wakes up, again."

"Very well, sir."

He went back to bed, too.