Peter spent a fair part of the rest of the morning on the sofa. Miserable even after his hip injury faded into a dull throbbing, he huddled under the blanket Strange had produced for him. The blanket that started out heated and never cooled off, even though it wasn't plugged into anything. He didn't sleep – he wasn't tired, really – but he didn't feel like he was good company, either, and didn't want to annoy anyone by being snippy.

"Does it still hurt?" Natasha asked, lightly stroking his hair and trying to get a conversation out of him.

He'd been so quiet, after all.

"Just a little. I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Really."

"We can try again, later," Tony told him, assuming correctly that it wasn't the fact that his hip hurt that was keeping him quiet, but disappointment that he couldn't go outside and play in the snow with the others.

It was his trip, after all, and now he was being left out.

Peter shook his head.

"It's okay." Lesson learned. Painfully, but thoroughly. He'd wait. "Maybe I'll go to my room for a while."

He didn't want them to worry about him, but he knew he was in a funk all of the sudden and wasn't really sure why. Yes, he couldn't go outside and that wasn't fair, but Peter was well aware that life wasn't fair all the time.

"I'll take you," Strange said, setting the Avenger book that he'd been idly reading aside and standing up.

It didn't show, but the doctor had been watching him carefully since he'd been brought back inside, keeping a close eye on his patient and hadn't missed the boy's gloomy countenance.

"I can walk," Peter told him, not wanting to bother him. "It's not that far."

"I don't want you on the stairs. Your wound is starting to close a bit and stepping up – or down – might rip the scabbing and put us back where we started. If I take you before MJ or Elmer come in, we can do it the easy way."

"Okay."

"You have him okay?" Stark asked as Strange assisted Peter to his feet with a hand under his arm.

"Yes. We're fine, Tony."

An instant later both Peter and Strange vanished.

"Think I should go help?" Tony asked Natasha.

"No. Stephen's going to have a talk with Peter, I assume, and it should probably be done in private."

"About what?"

"Why he didn't warn him about just how badly he was going to hurt if he went outside."

"Did you know it would?"

"I've been shot before – and it gets pretty cold where I'm from. I didn't know if it would be the same for Peter, though. I would have warned him. He might not have listened."

"Why? He trusts you."

"He's young enough to think he knows everything – and having the abilities that he does only adds to the illusion that he's invincible. He moved to step in front of a bullet, after all. Sometimes we'll have to allow him to learn a lesson the painful way to make sure it's really learned."

"I don't like that."

Romanoff's smile was warm and understanding.

"I know. Which makes it a lesson that you can't teach him – but Stephen can."

OOOOOOOOO

The blanket went with them. Peter set it down on the bed that he was using, but he didn't sit down on the bed with it. Instead, he moved to the window, walking painfully, and looked out. Below, he could see the others working on building what was sort of looking more like a snow fort than an igloo. He couldn't hear what anyone was saying since the windows in the cabin were well insulated.

Strange walked over to stand beside the boy and looked out the window as well.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Are you mad?"

"No. I probably deserved what I got – not listening to you."

"Yes."

"You didn't try very hard to convince me, though."

The accusation was easy to hear in his voice.

"Would you have listened if I had?"

"I don't know."

"You'll listen next time, though, I imagine."

"Yeah. You made your point." But it hurt more than the injury ever could to feel that Strange had betrayed him. He'd thought the doctor liked him. "You could have tried harder."

"Probably. I can be a bit egotistical, sometimes. When I'm right, I like to prove that I'm right. Sometimes at the expense of others. You wouldn't have listened, though. And Tony would have backed you. Then, when you found out that I was right, he'd have felt guilty for allowing you to do something to hurt yourself."

Peter was silent for a moment, digesting that as probable truth. Then he sighed and leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window.

"I just want to go outside."

"It'll close in a couple of days," Strange assured him. "You heal quickly, we already know that. When it does, then you can be outside, too – in a limited capacity."

"We might not be snowed in, then."

"True enough. I hope we're not, to be honest. This place is lovely, but it isn't home."

"I know."

"I miss my bed."

"Me, too. And I'm probably getting behind on homework, again."

"I would assume Ned and MJ are, as well. Your teachers will understand."

"Yeah."

Strange put his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Do what I tell you and we'll see how it looks tomorrow evening, alright?"

"Okay."

"Are you going to sit up here and brood?"

"Probably," Peter admitted.

"Do you want company?"

"I'm not good company when I'm pouting."

It didn't happen often, but even May had commented on it with an amused smile the few times that he'd raised his rebellious side.

"I could probably find someone that could deal with you at your worst."

"I doubt it."

Strange turned from the window and made a circular motion with one hand, and a portal formed in the middle of the bedroom. The destination was clearly the 3rd floor library at the sanctum, and there was a slight pause, but suddenly a heavy piece of fabric was soaring through the portal and instantly wrapping itself around the boy's head, shoulders and neck, crooning happily in his mind.

Peter smiled, cheered instantly. It was hard to brood when something was so genuinely happy to see you, after all.

"It can't stay," Strange told him. "MJ knows it's special, but I don't want to deal with Elmer's reaction. If it doesn't want to go, it would have to stay in your room where Rupp won't go."

"I'll let it decide," Peter assured him, walking over, painfully and sitting down on the bed, his side hurting too much to stay on his feet any longer – and his balance thrown off as usual by the heavy fabric cuddling up to him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Stephen smiled at the way the cloak was loving up to Peter – although it was avoiding his hip, completely, obviously knowing about the boy's injury. "If you need anything, call me – or Tony. And don't you dare try coming down the stairs on your own. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Good."

The lesson was still learned, then. That could only be a good thing.

Strange left the boy's room and walked down the hall and then down the staircase to the living room. He could have transferred himself, he saw. Pepper was the only addition to the group since he'd left. She was sitting on the sofa beside Stark, sipping a cup of coffee and obviously chilled from being outside.

"Is he okay?" Tony asked.

"He's fine," the doctor assured him. Them. "He'll call when he's ready to come down."

Stark hesitated, and then decided that if Peter needed anything, he would let him know.

"Cards?"

They all nodded.