"Peter's on the move."

Tony wasn't surprised. He looked over at Pepper and watched her sit up in the bed She didn't look surprised, either. Or concerned, for that matter.

"Where is he heading?" she asked the AI.

"Unclear. Projection; to the garage if he doesn't change direction."

"Sleepwalking?" Pepper asked, looking over at Tony.

"Probably. I expected it." He'd had a rough day, after all, and even though he'd woken when they'd stopped in to check on him earlier and assured them both that he didn't need them to stay with him, there was little doubt that the events of the day were weighing down on him, even if it was all just subconsciously. "I'll go check on him."

"Bring him back here," she told him.

"Right."

He was grounded, true, but not from them of course.

Stark threw his blankets back and got out of the bed, heading for the door.

OOOOOOOOO

Peter was in the garage. He was standing by the front of the Pontiac, looking at it carefully with one hand in a brace and the other holding Nutmeg. He looked over when Tony walked up, but then looked back at the car.

"I really screwed up, didn't I?"

Tony looked at him, and hesitated.

"What's the airspeed velocity of a laden swallow?"

Despite the damages he was looking at, Peter's expression went from troubled to slightly amused as he realized the reason for the odd question.

"I'm not sleepwalking – although I wish it was all a bad dream."

"Answer the question, son."

"An African or a European swallow?"

Stark smirked, and then went to stand beside the boy, resting a hand on his shoulder for just a moment before he reached over and took Nutmeg from him. The kitten was willing – as always – to be transferred from one person to another, and he sniffed Tony's hand, briefly and started gnawing on a knuckle.

"It looks worse than it really is," he said, looking at the damages on the car. "Mostly cosmetic, from what I see."

"But it's a classic. We're not going to be able to find parts, are we?"

He shrugged.

"If we can't find something, we'll manufacture it. The workshop here is more than capable of all the metal and chrome. It'll take a while, most likely – and we'll definitely need a new paint job – but you won't be able to tell anything happened by the time we're finished."

"You'll help me?" Peter asked. "Even though I was so dumb?"

"Of course I will, son. Don't be so hard on yourself; this is one of those life lessons people are always talking about."

"My dad's probably pretty pissed that I wrecked grandpa's car."

Tony shook his head.

"He's glad that you're not hurt. Worse than you were, that is. How's the head?"

"It's alright."

"You need some rest. Pepper told me to bring you back to bed with us."

"Because she thought I was sleepwalking?"

"Probably."

"I'm okay. Really. Tell her I wasn't sleepwalking, and that I'll see her in the morning."

"You're going to bed?"

Which plainly told Peter that if he wasn't, then Tony would stay up with him until he did. Mainly to make sure that he made it there. He nodded, since he didn't have any real reason to stay up – he'd just wanted to take a look at the car to see for himself what damage he'd done to it.

"Yes. I'm tired."

"I'll walk with you part way…" They turned and left the garage and walked in amicable silence a short while, but since he had him, Tony decided to breach another subject. "We were thinking about having Doctor Bird come out here," he told Peter, casually. "So you can hash out some of what happened with him, in case you need someone who isn't a parental figure – or an Avenger – to talk to about what happened. What do you think?"

"Does he know what happened?"

"No. Not yet. But we'd be good with telling him. Some of it, anyway. About the light, and the stones. Maybe discuss with him some of the choices that you were forced to make. If you want to, that is."

"Why does it sound like he knows about me talking to May?"

"Because he does," Alec replied. "He and Pepper both do. They needed to know. It affects you, after all, and your mental well-being. It will also help them to understand why you're being so moody."

"I'm not being moody."

If the ancient sorcerer had eyes to roll, he would have – and Peter knew it. Rather than annoy him, though – which he thought that it should – he was amused. Alec didn't say anything else about Peter's moodiness, but he did speak up.

"Tony's waiting," he reminded him.

"Yeah. I'd be alright with that," Peter said, stopping when they reached the cross corridor that led to Tony's quarters one direction and the infirmary the other. "But I don't want to tell him everything… We don't have to, do we?"

"Do we tell him you were hurt?"

"He's going to know that, anyway."

"Do we tell him how you were hurt? Your hand, I mean – not the deer."

"I don't know…" Peter told him, uncertainly. "What do you think he'd say? Maybe he won't believe us…"

Tony shrugged and handed Nutmeg back to Peter.

"Go to bed, son. There's time to discuss it, later."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Tony waited until Peter had carried his kitten down the corridor and vanished around a corner before he turned and headed bac to his quarters – and his bed. Pepper frowned when he walked in.

"Where's Peter?"

"He wasn't sleepwalking," he told her. "He was just up to look at the damages to the car."

"Is he alright?"

"He said to tell you that he's fine, that he loves you, and he will see you in the morning before you leave for work."

She smiled.

"Definitely."

He was alone when he woke the next morning.

Well, not completely alone; Nutmeg was tucked in the junction of his neck and shoulder, asleep but purring a rhythmic staccato rumbling against his skin as the kitten dozed with him. Peter opened his eyes, achy and fuzzy-headed and looked around, almost automatically, for Tony or Pepper.

"They're in their own bed," Alec reminded him.

Peter yawned, and nodded, which woke his kitten. Nutmeg uncoiled himself, stretched mightily and then moved to a new position on Peter's chest. There, he kneaded his t-shirt (and his little claws made themselves felt through the thin fabric) and plopped bonelessly back down to renew his nap in the new spot.

Natasha had stopped by the night before, handing him Nutmeg and checking him, carefully, as she did. Obviously, she was debating whether she should stay and keep him company overnight, as well. He understood; it had been a rough day and they all knew when he had a day like that, he rarely stayed in his bed that night. He'd told her that he was fine, though, and had sent her to her bed. She'd gone, eventually, respecting that he was old enough to be able to decide if he needed someone with him – although now, he kind of wished that she was there, since he was a little cold, and there was something amazingly restful about waking up wrapped in the arms of a pretty woman.

"You're spoiled," Alec told him. "No other sixteen-year-old has Avenger cuddle buddies."

Peter smiled, even though no one was there to see it. He looked up at the plain white ceiling and had to agree. He was spoiled – a little – he supposed. It felt good, though, knowing that they were there for him if he needed them to be. As if thinking about her had summoned her, there was a light tap on his door, and Natasha poked her head into the medical room.

"Decent?"

He nodded, realizing when she walked in that she was already dressed and ready for her day – although she wasn't wearing a uniform. Instead, she was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a blouse.

"Taking the day off?"

"I have a couple of things I need to do this morning," she told him, coming over and sitting on the edge of the bed. "And I need to go to the sanctum and bring the car home. Left it parked on the street, yesterday."

"Is Stephen here, yet?"

"He's talking to Pepper and Tony – making sure they're not going to let you overdo things being kitchen helper in the lounge."

Peter made a face at that.

"You heard I got grounded?"

Natasha's smile was commiserating. She reached out and brushed his bangs back from his forehead.

"Yes. It had to happen, eventually, right?"

"Yeah. I guess."

"At least you're not restricted to your bedroom…" she pointed out. "That would suck."

"Yeah."

He got off easy, he supposed. Probably because Tony and Pepper were still new at the parent thing – which meant new at the discipline thing, too.

"How did you sleep?"

"Okay. Took a while."

"Does your head hurt?"

"Not too much."

"And your hand?"

"No. I think it's alright."

"I'll check it to make sure," Stephen told him from the door, catching the last sentence as he walked into the room with Pepper and Tony – who were both dressed for their day, as well; Pepper in a dress that made no attempt to hide her figure, but was no nonsense, as well, and Tony in jeans and a polo. "Then you can have breakfast with Pepper before she and Shuri go to the tower."

The others watched as Stephen checked Peter's hand, and then put the brace back on.

"Well?" Tony asked.

"It looks good. It's not healed, though…" he added. "I don't want you to try anything without the brace on. Got it?"

"Yes. I don't have to stay in bed, do I?" Peter asked.

That made Strange hesitate, and then shrug.

"I suppose not. But you're going to tire, easily. Nothing strenuous. Got it?"

Peter nodded, and Strange looked at Tony – who nodded, as well.

"Of course."

The doctor leveled a stern look at his young patient.

"I want you to get some rest," he added. "When I come check on you, tonight, you should be rested and refreshed. If you look more tired when I check on you, that means you didn't do as I said – and then I'll restrict you to your bed. Got it?"

"Yes."

"Good." He looked at Tony and Pepper. "I'll be at the sanctum, today, if you need anything."

"Thank you."

Strange walked out, with Natasha walking beside him, after she smiled a goodbye to Peter.

"Are you coming for the car?" he guessed.

She nodded and was suddenly looking a little odd. At least, she was wearing an expression that he didn't recognize.

"I need to talk to you," she added, watching as he made a portal for them, and they walked through. "About a personal matter, though – so definitely better to be discussed here, than in front of all the video cameras at the compound."

The portal closed and Stephen turned to her, wondering why she looked so uncertain.

"What is it?" he asked. "Is everything alright?"

Romanoff nodded.

"I think so… but… well, I'm bleeding."