Once he was sure that Peter wasn't going to go right back to sleep, Strange shooed MJ into the dining room to join Natasha and Pepper, giving the living room to the males long enough for him to check Peter's wound and make sure it wasn't getting infected, despite his best efforts. Natasha and Pepper both made booing noises and complained bitterly about being left out, which made Peter smile even though he was blushing furiously. At least Karen wasn't there to make stripper music when Tony helped him peel back the cloth of the lounge pants, baring the bandaged hip for them to see.

"It looks pretty good," Stephen said, carefully pulling the bandage away from the gaping gouge the bullet had made in Peter's hip.

Peter had never actually seen a bullet wound, and he frowned down at it, and then looked at the doctor.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "It looks bad to me…"

"It's a gunshot wound, Peter," Strange pointed out. "It's not going to look appealing. There's no sign of infection, though, and that's a start." He pulled the used bandage off and took an antiseptic soaked cloth from the first aid kit. "This will hurt a bit."

The boy nodded, and about jumped out of his skin when the cloth first came in contact with the wound. Tony grabbed his upper arms, holding him as well as he could, but Peter was stronger than Stark, and he knew it. He forced himself to hold still, despite the fact that it felt like Strange was actually digging into the wound with a blunt knife.

"I'm going as fast as I can," Strange promised him, not missing the reaction.

He couldn't.

"I know. Sorry."

Peter was literally shaking by the time the doctor had cleaned it and had put a new bandage over the wound, and Tony tucked his head up under his chin and held him for a moment, giving him a chance to recover.

"I'm going to give you another shot of painkiller, Peter," Stephen told him, holding up a syringe. "It's strong enough that it'll take the edge off and hopefully help you get some more rest."

"Okay."

"Do you want us to put you into our bed?" Tony asked. "It's closer than yours, and things might get noisy in here once everyone comes inside."

Peter shook his head and watched as Strange injected the contents of the syringe into his other hip.

"No. I'm okay here. Honest."

He did not want to get on his feet.

"You ladies can come back, now," Strange told them, helping the boy ease the cloth of his lounge pants over his hip and then covering Peter with the blankets once more. He tucked the pillow against his hip again, setting it between Peter and Tony.

"How is he?" Pepper asked, walking around the sofa to look at Peter – who was pale and still a little shaky.

"I'm okay," he assured her. "Just sore."

"Stephen?"

"It's red and raw, but there's no infection. I don't want him on the Quinjet, though. He'd never make the trip home without starting to bleed again."

They hadn't actually had a chance to discuss the plan to have Strange take Peter back to the compound the quick and much less painless way, but Peter didn't complain. He'd leaned back against the cushions of the sofa, once again lilting a little to the side away from the agony of his hip – which was starting to ease a bit as the powerful painkiller took effect.

Pepper nodded.

"We-"

Tony's cell rang, just then, and at the same time the front door opened, and Steve, Clint and Elmer walked in, with Jack bouncing happily around them. They stripped out of their outer clothing, and Clint's eyes lit up when he saw that Peter was awake on the sofa.

"No."

Strange's voice was quite firm and the one word held nothing but admonishment. Clint raised an eyebrow at the magician and he gave him an innocent look.

"Whaaaat?"

Tony got up to answer the phone call, leaving his space for Natasha, and Pepper took the other side. Both women looked at Barton, expectantly, as they sat down, flanking the boy, but he knew better than to mess with his favorite target with so many imposing protectors around him. Besides, he didn't want to make him hurt worse than he already did – and he looked like he was really hurting.

Peter couldn't help but smile, smugly. But he didn't say anything to goad Barton, well aware that he wasn't in any condition to wrestle – even though it really was one of his favorite forms of entertainment.

Ned came stumping down the stairs with Bruce just as Tony returned to the living room after a very brief conversation.

"Good, you're all here."

"Yes," Bruce said, facetiously. "Yes, we are all here."

Stark rolled his eyes.

"And apparently, here you will stay."

"What's up?" Steve asked, sitting in a recliner and picking up Jack and an old towel he was using to dry the puppy whenever he came inside.

"That was Polly."

"Who's Polly?" Clint asked, curiously.

"The other half of our snowmobile guides," Tony replied. "They're not going to be able to come take us out today. The snow's too deep, and only supposed to be getting worse. They want to wait until it stops snowing."

"When will that be?" Pepper asked.

Stark shrugged.

"Might be tonight. Might be Thursday. Apparently, it's dangerous going right now, and they don't want to risk it."

"I don't want to risk it, either," Pepper said, frowning.

"We're snowed in?" Ned asked.

"So it seems."

"Excellent!"

The boy's grin was like sunshine, but Tony gave him a sour look.

"Pepper? Will you call the kids' parents and let them know what's going on so that they don't worry?"

"Of course."

She eased herself away from Peter's side – careful not to jolt him – and beckoned for Ned and MJ to follow her into the dining room so that she could make the calls, but the parents could speak with their offspring to reassure themselves that they were fine, and it was only snow.

"We could snowshoe out," Clint suggested.

"It's a fair distance."

"You wouldn't be able to drive in this once you reached your car," Elmer mentioned.

If the man had been shocked to see Ironman out in the woods the night before, he was downright flabbergasted when he'd woken that morning to a chocolate lab puppy licking his face and being called to order by none other than Captain America. Stark had quickly explained what had happened the evening before, reassured Steve – and then Clint who had joined them a minute later – that it wasn't a serious wound, and Peter would be fine according to Strange and had made introductions all around.

"We flew in," Clint told him. "That won't be a problem."

"Getting there would be," Stark said, shrugging. "It's a long way and I don't want to make the kids try it."

Not that they would even have made the attempt with Peter.

"There are worse places to be snowed in," Bruce said, looking around.

"True." Stark looked at Rupp and offered him his cell, knowing quite well that Elmer's phone wouldn't have the satellite capabilities to get a signal. "Mr. Rupp? Looks like you're going to be staying with us for a few days. You might want to call your family to let them know you're safe – in case they start to worry."

"Thank you."

Elmer walked a little off to the side, shaking his head in disbelief and wishing that he dared pull his camera out and start taking photos. No one would believe what he was doing – and who he was doing it with.

Tony then turned to Clint.

"Call Fury. Let him know."

"Yeah."

If something came up, they'd force the issue of leaving. Tony and Clint could always snowshoe to the jet and bring it to the cabin, but it wasn't a great plan and there wasn't a safe place to land to pick everyone up. They'd just settle in and wait for the snow to stop. If nothing else, it would give Peter a quiet place to heal a little.