"He didn't make it, huh?"

Natasha smiled, looking down at the boy sleeping with his head on her leg.

"He managed the chilidogs but there was no way he was going to be able to keep awake for pie."

Peter had finished the dogs, and even some of the chips, but had then simply toppled, falling asleep almost without warning and once more leaning away from the pain in his hip. His cheek had unerringly found her leg, his hand coming up to rest beside his head on her thigh, but where he normally would have tucked his face against her hip, it would have required him sleeping on his left side – and that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

Stark smiled.

"Do you need me to move him, so you can have a break?"

"No. I don't want to go outside right now, anyway. Go spend some time with Pepper and the kids. By the time you're cold and ready to warm up and cuddle, my leg will be asleep, and I'll be ready to get up."

He nodded, and pulled a blanket over Peter, tucking it around him, gently.

"Call me if you need anything."

"I need the remote."

He reached for it and handed it to her, but she didn't turn the TV on right away. Instead she watched as everyone except Stephen bundled themselves into their winter gear – including Elmer, who had been surprised when he'd been invited by Ned and MJ both to go outside and try to build an igloo with the others. With the Avengers. He took his camera, figuring the least he could do for all that Stark had done for him was to act as photographer for the group and make sure that they had some high-quality photos of the participants and their activities for as long as he was snowed in with them.

Strange picked up the lunch tray from the coffee table and took it into the kitchen. When he returned to the living room, he was carrying two cups of coffee and he handed one to her as he settled in beside her on the sofa, looking down at the boy who was so casually cuddled against her leg.

"If it were anyone else with their hand on your thigh like that, I'd be jealous as hell. You know that, right?"

Romanoff smiled.

"There's plenty of me to go around."

The doctor kissed her temple and then picked up the Idiot's Guide to the Avengers from off the coffee table.

"Have you read this yet?" he asked her.

"I'm waiting for the movie."

He smiled at that.

"Boring…"

Then he opened the book. Natasha turned the TV on and the two settled into a comfortable silence as the snow continued to fall outside.

OOOOOOO

Peter woke on his own the next time and he was uncomfortable. Still stretched out on the sofa, he opened his eyes and winced as he moved his leg. Natasha's hand was already resting lightly on his shoulder, but she tightened her grip imperceptibly when he moved under her.

"You okay?"

"No. I need to get up."

He lifted his head from her leg, looking around for help. Preferably male help. He saw Ned drowsing in one of the beanbag chairs and MJ in the other. Bruce was seated on the other side of Natasha, and Clint and Steve had the recliners. From somewhere behind the sofa – most likely in the dining room – he could hear Pepper, Tony, Strange and Elmer playing cribbage, because they were speaking in that odd fifteen five fifteen six gobbledygook that he still didn't understand. Everyone had a spot, but he realized that he'd dominated almost all of the sofa, keeping the others from having a place to sit in the living room if they wanted to.

Natasha didn't argue that he needed to hold still. Instead, she put a hand under his side and supported him while he sat up, and he bit down on a groan of pain when the motion shot spurts of agony through his hip.

Steve moved to help him get just a bit more upright than Natasha was able to accomplish from the angle that she had, and Peter caught his forearm before he could move away.

"Will you help me get up, Steve?"

Rogers frowned – and he wasn't the only one. Clint and Natasha both did, as well.

"Where are we going?"

"I need the bathroom," Peter said, softly, blushing when he looked over at Natasha.

Romanoff smiled, then, realizing why he not only looked almost desperate, but also why he didn't ask her for assistance. She wondered if all teenaged boys were so shy.

Clint got up, as well, smiling at Peter's dilemma and Tony and the others caught sight of the movement in the living room and started to stand to come see what was going on. Rogers waved them all to theirs seats, while he took one side of Peter and Clint supported the other, taking all of the boy's weight to avoid allowing him to try and put any pressure on the injured hip.

"We'll be right back."

OOOOOOO

When they brought him back to the living room, still supporting all of his weight – although he hadn't felt too terrible when he'd been by himself in the bathroom – he asked them to help him to the table, rather than put him back on the sofa. He could see everything that was going on that way and didn't feel so disassociated with everything and everyone.

Tony smiled and pushed a chair out for him and he settled gingerly, thanking Clint and Steve profusely. On its own accord, Tony's hand came to his forehead, checking for fever – although the boy didn't look flushed.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Okay."

Rupp looked over at him, as well.

"I feel terrible about what happened."

"You shouldn't," Peter told him, sincerely. "It wasn't on purpose. Besides, I'm fine. It isn't so bad."

"It'll leave an interesting scar," Strange said.

Pepper smiled.

"Not that anyone will ever see it."

Peter blushed.

"There's still a little time before dinner," Strange told him. "Are you hungry, though?"

"No. Thank you."

"Did you try my pie?" Rupp asked.

"I fell asleep before I had a chance to."

"I made sure to save you a slice," he said. "I'll go get it."

"It's okay," Peter told him. "I don't want to be a bother."

"No bother, son," he said, shaking his head. "It's the least I can do, really. Cup of coffee to go with it?"

"No. Hot chocolate? If you don't mind? If we have some, still?"

"We do," Strange told him. Peter felt a magical tingle that he knew none of the others could feel. "Check the cupboard above the dishwasher, Elmer. There should be several boxes."

Strange winked at the boy as the Idahoan nodded and left the dining room, realizing that Peter would have felt him magic up more hot cocoa mix but no one else would and Tony shook his head, touching Peter's forehead again.

"You're a lot more forgiving than I am," he murmured, softly. "You know that, right?"

"He was scared, Tony," Peter said, just as softly, to make sure Rupp couldn't hear him. Peter remembered quite well the look on Elmer Rupp's face when they'd come up on him in the dark. "I've been scared. I know how he felt."

"Next time, you hide behind me, okay?"

"Only if you're in your suit."

Pepper watched them, torn between amusement that the two were butting heads – even though it wasn't too serious, although the topic was – and annoyance that Peter wasn't as upset about being shot by the man as she was. Forgiveness was a good thing, and she had had plenty of practice with Tony, but she was very much aware that Elmer Rupp could have taken someone from her that she was only just beginning to get to know – accident or not – someone that she loved very much. It was hard for her to deal with that realization, although she was trying to hide that, from Tony and now from Peter.

It wasn't easy.