About half an hour into the flight, Peter felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see that Tony had gotten out of his seat and walked forward. Of course, he wasn't capable of sitting still at the best of time, being filled with energy that usually was focused on his work but in the last year or so had been transferred to Pepper and – more recently – Peter, as well.
"How's he doing?" Clint asked, noticing Stark as well.
They couldn't miss Ned's misery in the confines of the Quinjet's fuselage.
"He's pretty miserable," Tony said, reaching down and rubbing his fingers along Jack's ears. The puppy was mostly asleep, having absolutely no problem with air travel, apparently. The same couldn't be said for Ned. "He keeps telling us to just let him die, and that he would have liked to have seen Montana – whatever that means."
Peter smiled.
"It's a line from The Hunt for Red October. One of the submariners was going to defect from Russia, move to Montana and raise rabbits for his wife to cook for him. He got killed saving the captain, and that was the death scene."
Tony never stopped being amazed that Peter was such a movie buff, and it amused him that even as miserable as he was, Ned was showing that side of his nature as well.
"Be that as it may," he said. "Maybe we can pick up the speed and get him off the plane a little sooner?"
Barton shrugged.
"I can do that. It'll get a little bumpier, though."
"He's not going to feel any worse," Stark assured him. "Go ahead."
The boy had tossed up everything he'd eaten that morning – and probably the last week or so, as well.
"Alright."
There was a noticeable surge of power as the jet responded to Clint's commands, and Peter looked up at Tony.
"Do you need me back there?"
"No. Stay here and keep hold of Jack. Pepper and Stephen can take care of Ned – but the last thing they need is a rambunctious puppy underfoot."
"Okay."
Tony walked back to the others and smiled at the sight of Pepper sitting beside Ned, who was buckled in his seat, bent over with his head between his knees a barf bag at the ready – although all that he was managing now were dry heaves. Strange had taken the other side of the boy, but there wasn't much he could do aside from provide a little support and offer the occasional sip of water in between heaving to keep Ned from getting too dehydrated.
He wasn't the only one to get sick. MJ had been okay until Ned started throwing up and then she'd lost her breakfast as well. But she wasn't suffering like Ned was, and Steve was doing his best to keep her distracted and avoid a repeat.
Tony went over to sit beside Pepper.
"We're going to cut the flight time," he told them. "Barton's speeding things up a little."
"Sorry, Mr. Stark," Ned said, weakly, not lifting his head.
"Don't be," Tony said. "It's not like you're doing it on purpose."
Obviously.
They felt the thrum of the jet's powerful engines increase and liked Barton had warned, the flight did get a little bumpier. A moment later, Clint came into the back, having given the controls over to Nick.
"I think a change of plans might be in order," Barton said, looking at Ned, but talking to Stark. "Why don't we drop you guys, first, and then I'll drop the crate after? That way we can get Ned onto stable ground a little sooner."
Stark looked at Steve, who nodded. He didn't have a problem with that plan. And besides, everyone knew a plan would almost certainly change as soon as it had been made.
"Sounds good. I'll call and make sure the snowmobile guy knows that we're going to be early. That way we're not standing in the snow waiting for them to get there."
"Good." Clint patted Ned on the back, feeling for him but still confused how anyone could have such a violent reaction to something that came so easily to him. "Hang in there, Ned."
"Thanks, Clint."
OOOOOOOOO
There wasn't a threat of waiting in the snow.
Only an hour later, the jet landed in a meadow that had an orange flag off to one side that proved it was used as an airfield. Not at the moment, though, since there were several feet of snow covering the ground and short of a Quinjet, or a plane with skis, nothing was going to be using the field until the spring thaw. Off to the west of the field was a small building that was obviously used as a terminal, of sorts, and Clint landed the jet as close to it as he could without blowing too much snow around. Next to the building were several snowmobiles, and two people who were bundled in snow gear walked out of the building as the jet settled.
"We're here," Tony said, unnecessarily, as Steve got up and hit the switch that lowered the ramp as soon as the engines turned off. "I'll be right back."
"Can we go outside?" Peter asked, walking into the back with Jack in his arms, still.
"Yeah. Just don't wander off."
"And watch out for bears," Natasha told him with a smile.
He rolled his eyes, but smiled, too, as he handed Jack to Steve, who crooned to the puppy as if he hadn't seen him for days instead of a couple of hours.
"I'll be okay."
"And moose," Strange added.
Peter pulled on his new coat and zipped it up against the rush of cold air that had accompanied the lowering of the ramp and waited for MJ to join him before walking down the ramp.
"Why did she say that about bears?" MJ asked, looking around as they watched Tony shake hands with the two strangers and gesture to the jet. "I thought they were all hibernating by now."
"She's just teasing me," Peter told her. "I read that they should be getting ready for hibernation, too."
He had assumed she knew about him being attacked by the bear during his first try at camping, but Ned must not have mentioned it. He hadn't told her, simply because it wasn't something that would really come up in a normal day's conversation.
The snow was up to his knees and he leaned down and scooped some up, making a snowball almost automatically, and looking around for someone to throw it at. He ducked as one came sailing at him from behind – warned by an inner alert – and turned to fling the snowball at Clint, who hadn't hesitated to start a snowball fight with Peter. Barton dodge Peter's throw, and tossed another, which Peter dodged just as easily as he had the first. It wasn't long before the snowballs were coming fast and furiously between the two of them, being thrown as quickly as they could be formed, although none were hitting their target.
Finally Hawkeye gave up and rushed Peter, tackling him into a snow drift and wrestling him down in a flurry of snow and limbs.
"That didn't take long," Strange said as he walked over to stand by Natasha, who was watching Peter and Clint, and was debating whether to break it up or join in.
She smiled, and shivered in her new coat, which was down filled and poofy, but not warm, yet.
"How's Ned?"
"Pepper took him into the terminal so he can sit down for a while, but he's fine. It's just motion sickness, he'll feel better in a little while."
"Too bad you couldn't just jump him here," she said. "It would have been easier on him, poor baby."
"I can't jump where I haven't been," he reminded her. "Besides, that would be a little difficult to explain."
He nodded his head toward MJ, who was also watching Peter and Barton wrestling in the snow. Clint had the boy on his back, now and was trying to stuff snow under his coat. Peter wasn't about to allow that if he could avoid it, and Barton ended up tossed into a snowbank of his own, with Peter pressing his attack and diving onto him with a handful of snow at the ready.
"Good point."
"Peter!"
The boy looked up at Stark's call, and Strange, Natasha and MJ all looked over as well.
"Yeah?"
Stark waved him over, and Peter got up, offering Barton a hand up. Both were covered in snow and red-faced from the cold and the exercise, and they gathered MJ and Natasha and Strange as they walked over to see what Tony wanted.
Stark was standing beside the two figures who had come out to meet them, and now Peter could see that one was a woman and one a man. Both looked quite at home in the cold and the snow and were introduced to the group as Polly and Jim.
"We're going to give Ned a chance to get his equilibrium back, but we'll be heading out in about fifteen minutes. Since I know you don't know how to drive a snowmobile, it might not be a bad idea for you guys to have a quick lesson. They're pretty forgiving but safety first, and all that."
"Yeah."
Peter and MJ both agreed to that.
"Stephen? Do you know how to drive a snowmobile?"
"I'm a brain surgeon, Tony," Strange reminded him. "How hard can it be?"
Stark rolled his eyes and turned to Jim.
"Give him a quick lesson, too, will you? It seems like every time someone asks that question the universe goes out of its way to answer it."
Natasha grinned, but had to admit that he was right.