"You're supposed to eat dinner before you have dessert."

Peter nodded, smiling at Natasha, who had come to the table to join the others rather than sit on the sofa with Bruce – who had fallen asleep in the short time since Peter had woken. The boy had finished off the piece of pie – which was some kind of chocolate mousse and had been incredible and now he was scraping the last vestiges of chocolate from the small plate with his fork.

"It's good pie, though. And I didn't want to risk spoiling dessert with dinner."

"Dinner will not spoil anything," Pepper assured him, pretending to be indignant at the suggestion. "Just for that, I'll make you a special platter of liver and onions."

"Ugh."

Romanoff touched his forehead.

"How do you feel?" she asked. "Tired?"

"Yeah."

"That's normal, though, right Stephen?"

"Yes."

"I've been sleeping all day," he pointed out.

"It's good for you," Strange told him. "I'd suggest another nap before dinner."

"Especially since Ned and MJ are both sleeping, too. Maybe you'll feel up to playing with your new chess set later," Pepper told him.

Peter shrugged, tempted because he was tired, but somewhat rebellious at the thought of being sent to bed. And aware that sleeping on the couch was forcing them to hang out in the dining room instead of the living room in front of the roaring fire which was a lot more comfortable. Even though part of him reminded himself that they couldn't play cards on the coffee table as easily as they could at the dining room table, so it wasn't that much of a hardship.

"I'm okay."

Stark shook his head.

"You look ready to fall asleep any minute."

"No, really, I'm okay."

Tony wasn't convinced, but he wasn't going to press the issue and potentially embarrass Peter. He didn't need to. Instead, he and the others returned to their card game, while Natasha and Peter watched. He had his head resting in one hand, the elbow on the table bracing himself upright. She was sitting in the chair beside his, her arm resting on the back of his chair and her fingers running lightly through his hair, simply relaxing with the people that she loved the most in the world. And Elmer Rupp, who she didn't know and certainly wasn't ready to trust any time soon.

The others played their cards and watched with differing degrees of amusement as Natasha's touch did what it always did with Peter. She soothed him. He closed his eyes, eventually, rested his head on his arms on the table and fell asleep.

"Tony, you and Stephen can put him our bed for now," Pepper told them. "Don't hurt him and try not to wake him – if you can."

"Yes, dear."

Strange didn't argue about being ordered around. Even a master of the mystic arts knew when to keep his mouth shut and simply smile and nod. The two men got up, carefully lifted the sleeping boy between them and carried him to the bedroom just off the living room.

Elmer watched them go and shook his head, reaching for the cards.

"We don't get as much news out in Boise as you guys do, I'm sure, but I read about his adoption in the paper. I remember my wife mentioning that it had to be the best thing in the world for a kid to live full time with the Avengers. And then we read that someone tried kidnapping him. He seems to be adjusting amazingly well for such upheaval."

"He is," Pepper agreed. "It helps that he's a good kid."

"Yeah. I can see that."

Natasha turned her attention from where Stark and Stephen had vanished with Peter and looked at Elmer. Her expression was completely unreadable – even to Pepper, who knew her as well as anyone, and had known her as long as anyone other than Nick Fury.

"The kidnappers are all dead."

Pepper felt an atavistic thrill go through her at that not so subtle sentence; a mixture of approval that Natasha was so willing to remind Rupp just who he was dealing with and glee that Peter had someone so dangerous watching out for him – even when he wasn't actually right there. She also felt a little relieved that Romanoff still didn't trust Rupp, because Peter clearly wanted to – and badly.

Many men a lot crazier and more powerful than Elmer Rupp had quailed before that look, much less the tone of voice. He caught the warning immediately and was well aware that there was only one reply.

"I've already done worse to him than I've done to anyone in my life, Ms. Romanoff. He doesn't ever have to be afraid of me."

Pepper tossed a look Natasha's way, but the assassin ignored her, her gaze only for the man in front of her. Elmer felt that she was looking into his very soul with that intense stare and was sure he knew what a mouse felt like when cornered by a hungry cat. She finally nodded, and Pepper thought she saw a flicker of surprise on Natasha's expression before it went cold and unreadable once more.

"As long as we understand each other."

"We do," he assured her.

"Good."

OOOOOOOOO

They put him on his side in the large bed in the master suite. He roused, briefly, giving a whimper of pain as Tony pulled the blankets back and then Stephen tucked pillows in the front and back of him to keep him from rolling and jarring himself awake. While they had the boy in the right position, Strange took the opportunity to pull the bandage back and make sure the wound wasn't infecting. Both men saw that it was red and raw, but Strange made an approving noise when he put the bandage back and pulled the waistband of the lounge pants Peter was wearing back up and over the bandaged area.

"How does it look, Stephen?"

"Better than I expected. He heals quickly, we already knew that, but it looks good. I don't think we need to worry about infection, so we'll cut the antibiotics."

"What about the painkillers? He obviously still hurts."

"No. At least, not the stuff I've been giving him. It's too strong to use for any extended duration of time. We'll stick with the over the counter pain pills and monitor how that helps. I'll adjust as needed."

"You're sure? I don't want him suffering."

"He lives with you, Tony," Stephen pointed out. "He's already suffering."

Stark smiled, knowing that Strange wouldn't be getting his digs in if he was worried about Peter. Before he could respond with an equally sarcastic quip, Peter shifted in the bed, opening his eyes but not lifting his head.

"Tony?"

Instantly the billionaire was leaning over the boy, his hand on his cheek, while the other hand pulled the blankets up to be tucked around the pillows.

"Yeah, Peter. I'm here."

At the touch, Peter closed his eyes.

"I'm not tired…"

"I know."

"Is it still snowing?"

"Yeah."

"I want to go sledding."

"Later."

"You'll come?"

"Yeah. So will Stephen. Later."

Strange rolled his eyes, but didn't argue with that, either.

"Okay."

"Go to sleep, Peter."

"I'm not tired," he repeated, stubbornly, his voice fading as he started to drift off. "I want…"

Stark's expression was one that Strange knew was reserved only for Peter and Pepper, and he watched as Tony leaned over and pressed his cheek against the boy's for the briefest of moments. They made sure that Peter was sleeping peacefully and then headed for the door to the suite. Stark turned off the lights and turned up the thermostat, but they didn't close the door – just in case Peter needed anything.

"We could get him a bell…" Stephen suggested, amused, as they walked into the living room. "He could ring it and you could come running."

Tony grinned at that, and shook his head.

"He has a watch. That's much less annoying."