Peter was awake.

He'd never actually lost consciousness, although he was having trouble focusing on what was going on around him. They pulled him out of the car – and he knew it was bad that they had to, but he couldn't figure out why. His head was aching and his hand was killing him. It was hard to think about anything else, just then. Doctor Adams was being careful with him; making sure to speak slowly and explain everything that she was doing – or having done to him.

At the moment, it was a lot of x-rays and tests, along with a barrage of questions.

"Where's Tony?" Peter asked, again. "I need to see him."

"He's waiting for us to finish," Adams told him. Again. She was very patient, though, well aware that the head injury was making him confused. "He'll be here in a minute."

They finished the x-rays; positioned him in a myriad of different positions to make sure the pictures they took came out on the first try, and then took some blood. A somewhat makeshift bandage was put around the already bandaged arm and hand to hold it completely still. Then a couple of corpsmen put him into a pair of sweats and covered him, warmly, to offset the fact that they'd been forced to just cut the shirt that he'd been wearing off – and hadn't put a new one on over the sling and the new bandages.

"Is he mad?"

"Of course not."

"Worried?"

"Always." She smiled, checking the neat row of stitches that she'd already used to close the gash above his right eyebrow. "He'll be here, soon. Pepper, too."

"She's going to be mad…" Peter told the doctor, mournfully. "I killed a deer."

"I heard that it survived," Adams assured him. "Not even a limp. Tony double checked to make sure."

"He did?"

"He did."

She knew him well enough by then to know how best to keep him calm and was more than willing to use that knowledge to reassure him. Of course, in this case it helped that it was true.

Before Peter could reply, or ask any other questions, Doctor Strange was suddenly standing by the bed. Without a word one of the other medics handed him a clipboard to allow him to see what tests had been given and what the results had been.

"Peter?"

The boy had closed his eyes, relieved, but opened them again.

"Hey."

"Hello. How do you feel?"

"Sore."

Strange looked at Adams.

"Anything broken?"

"No." she hadn't covered the stitches so he had no trouble seeing the result of the impact Peter's head had made to the steering wheel. "We x-rayed the hand and arm, but we didn't want to take the bandages off. I called in Doctor Thompson to have the hand checked. He should be here, anytime."

"Smart thinking." He looked Peter over, carefully, not missing how dazed the boy looked. "Pain meds?"

"A local before I went to work on his head and an OTC for the hand until we take the bandages off."

"Has Tony seen him, yet?"

"He was at the accident scene and is waiting outside until we're done."

Stephen nodded.

"Put him in a bed, here, to keep him close by until Doctor Thompson comes. Go ahead and let Tony and Pepper see him – but no one else until we get him settled for the night."

"Including Romanoff?" Adams asked, pointedly.

"No. Of course not." He wasn't crazy. "Peter? We're going to let Tony and Pepper come visit as soon as they get you into a real bed. Hold as still as you can, though. Got it?"

"Yeah." He reached out, though, with the unbandaged hand, and caught Stephen's short in an implacable grip. "Are they mad at me?"

"No. Of course not."

"I screwed up…" he said. "Big time. They're going to hate me, Stephen. I wrecked the car. I killed a deer. I pissed off MJ – again. No one's going to-"

"Peter…" Strange didn't even try to free himself. He stepped forward, instead, closer to the boy. "You're fine. Really." He reached out and pressed his palm against the boy's cheek, trying to keep him calm, well aware that a panic attack, now, was the last thing that Peter needed. "Tony's never going to hate you. Neither will Pepper."

"The deer lived," Adams supplied Strange.

"Hear that?" the sorcerer supreme said. "The deer is fine and the car can be fixed."

"It's probably ruined," Peter said, softly. "I ruin everything."

"Tony built an Ironman suit in a cave," Stephen said, surprising himself with the sudden desire to hug the guy and make him understand how wrong he was. "He'll be able to fix the car. I'll even help. Alright? Stop worrying so much about this. You made a mistake. You're a teenager; you're supposed to make one every now and then."

Peter didn't look too convinced, but he did relax his grip on Stephen's shirt, allowing him to pull his shirt out of the boy's grip. He didn't step back, though. Instead his hand went from his cheek to his neck, double checking the pulse he felt there, making sure it wasn't beating too quickly, another indicator of a potential panic attack. It was slow and steady, though.

"The bed's ready," Adams said, softly.

"Thank you." He turned his attention to Peter, again. "They're going to put you into bed and I'll go get Tony and Pepper."

"Okay. Tell them I'm sorry."

"They know, already."

He didn't know what Peter had done, but clearly the boy thought it was a doozy. And maybe it was. He'd have to find out. He left Peter in Adams' capable hands with two big corpsmen already stepping up to transfer Peter into the waiting bed, and he walked out of the room and to the waiting room where he knew that he'd find the others.

He was a bit surprised to see Shuri waiting with Natasha, Tony and Pepper, but he didn't have a chance to mention it before he was suddenly assailed by the heavy fabric of his cloak. It wrapped around him and even though Stephen couldn't actually hear it like Peter could, there was no doubt what it wanted.

"Yes. Go make sure he's warm enough and check on him."

The cloak flittered out of the open door and he turned his attention to Tony and Pepper, who had stood and walked over to meet him.

"Stephen?"

"What happened?" the doctor asked.

"He was upset and took the Pontiac out – to clear his head, or something – and he hit a deer and overcorrected and crashed into a tree."

"Is he alright?" Pepper asked.

"He seems to be." Stephen looked at Shuri. "I need to ask you to leave, princess," he told her somewhat apologetically. "Patient confidentiality."

The girl was too much a princess to complain about being kicked out – and she knew that he was well within his rights to request that she not listen in on the conversation – no matter that Peter was her friend. Besides, she had heard the important part; that Peter seemed to be fine. She would check back, later.

"I understand." She looked at Pepper. "When you see him, tell him I will come visit him as soon as I am allowed."

Pepper smiled and nodded, and they all watched as she left, and she pointedly closed the door behind her.

"What's wrong?" Tony asked, worried, now.

"Nothing. Well, nothing really new, or unexpected. Peter's fine. His head is stitched up – Doctor Adams did a good job, they might not even leave a scar – and they're putting him into a bed, now."

"But?"

There had to be a but; Pepper knew.

"He's convinced that you're going to hate him, that he's killed a deer and that he's ruined everything – including his father's car."

"We don't hate him."

"Of course you don't," Stephen agreed. "But I warned you about the possibility of depression, remember? He's very adept at hiding his feelings, but this time it's just too much, probably, and he can't."

"Do you think we should see if Doctor Bird can come chat with him?" Pepper asked, even as Tony was about to suggest the same thing. "He's good with Peter, and they get along well."

"I think that's a very good idea. Not today, though. And only if you're willing to let the man know everything. Peter has a lot that he needs to talk out – especially that decision that he made with May – and Bird could help him best if he didn't have to hold back anything."

"If that's what's best, he could tell the whole world…" Tony replied.

"That would be a bad idea," Stephen told him. "Your son's actions healed millions of people of everything from broken bones to cancer. If they knew what really caused it, and had someone to focus on? It'd be a nightmare for Peter. They'd start religions and who knew what else? Not to mention hounding him for more healing – which we know isn't going to happen."

"Good point."

Of course, Tony and Pepper had already discussed just that, as well.

"No. Bird can't tell anyone, so he's a good choice."

"Do we tell Peter?"

"Why you're bringing in his psychologist? Might as well; he's bright enough to figure it out. Besides, he knows the possibility is there, too. I spoke with him about it, and I'm sure Alec has, as well. We'll have them both working on helping him level out a little."

"Good plan. In the meantime…?"

"Go check on him. Do what you have been doing. When Thompson gets here, we'll check the hand. We were going to do it tomorrow, regardless, so a day early won't hurt anything. Depending on how it looks, maybe we'll see about losing some of the bandages. That'll make him feel like we're accomplishing something."

Tony nodded.

"Anything else we need to know, right now?"

"He didn't kill the deer?"

"No."

"Make sure you tell him that."