It was cold, and dark, and he was scared. The tiny fire in front of him wasn't going to keep him warm all night, and he knew that if it went out, then he was really going to be in trouble. He rubbed his hands to warm them and then picked up the gun that he'd set on his thigh while he was trying to warm up.

The sound of a howling wolf in the distance once more sent shivers through him that had nothing to do with the weather and the snow that was falling all around him and had been for days, it seemed. Was it closer than the last time? Would a wolf attack him? Was his tiny fire enough to keep them away? He heard another noise – the most recent of many – and something moved in the dark. It frightened him and his grip on the gun tightened. Then there was a loud snap and the gun went off in response to the fear laced adrenaline that coursed through his system.

"Peter!"

"I'm alright."

He wasn't, though.

"You're not alright," Strange told him, taking away the sled that he'd been holding. "But you will be. That's my job."

"It hardly hurts. I don't need to stay in bed."

"Stay in bed," Pepper told him, gently. Her expression made him smile. Her hand touched his cheek and she smiled, too. "I love you."

"I'm okay, though."

"No," Tony said, holding him upright, keeping him from falling into the snow, his gloved hand smeared with scarlet. "You're not."

Pain was lacing through him, but he tried to ignore it. Couldn't let them know that he was sore, or they would worry. Everyone worried about him, but they didn't really need to. He was Spiderman, right?

"I'm Spiderman."

"Not until after Sunday," May told him, reaching out and touching his cheek. Her smile was tender, and his eyes filled with tears at the love he saw in her expression. Love that she couldn't provide him any longer – but had made sure to place him with the perfect people who could. "Until then you're Peter Pony."

"I don't want to be in bed," he said, looking at the others.

"Doctor's orders."

"I could get up."

"Better not."

"I have a rock," he reminded them all, peevishly, his hand closing over the stone that was suddenly in his hand. "I can go anywhere. Any time."

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" Wanda asked him, pointedly, her pretty face tinged with red like it always seemed to be when he saw her.

Natasha gathered him into her arms and he put his head against her collarbone, listening to her heart beating against his cheek. He didn't really even need the superhero hearing that he had to listen to the steady beat. It was that close. And comforting. He was safe with her.

"No. I want to be here."

"Then stay with me," Romanoff told him.

"Okay."

"Give Natasha the rock, Peter," Wanda told him, gently, her touch completely different than Natasha's. She was touching his mind, while Natasha's hold was physical and even Pepper was suddenly holding him fast; her grip on the more subtle – but just as powerful – aching need that he had to be loved. "You don't need it right now."

Peter stirred, restless, and opened his eyes, tilting his head up. Natasha was still beside him, her hand brushing against his hair, idly.

"Natasha?"

"Hey, baby."

"Here…" He handed her the teleportation stone, and she took it without comment and then put it on the stand by his bed. "I don't need that, right now."

Romanoff nodded, shifting just a little.

"No. You don't. Go to sleep, okay? Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

He put his now empty hand back on her stomach and closed his eyes.

"What are you going to do?"

"We're going to play a new game."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"A card game?" he asked, sleepily, feeling something right on the edge of his consciousness soothing him and reminding him that he was supposed to be sleeping. The tinge of red told him who it was, but he didn't mind. "I'm not good at cards."

"No. I know. Go to sleep. You'll find out after breakfast."

"Okay."

OOOOOOOO

"Do you feel better?"

Vision opened his eyes and looked at Maximoff.

"I don't feel anything, Wanda. Better or worse. But the pressure is gone, yes. Is the boy asleep again?"

"Yes." She sat down on the sofa, closing her eyes; comfortable with Vision and the magical embrace of the gem in his head. "He's so complicated."

"I understand that is a common theme with teen-aged boys."

"Teen-aged boys that have the powers he does are luckily few and far between."

"Luckily."

"You told Natasha how to keep him in bed?"

"Yes. She doesn't know it was me, of course – or the Mind stone – but the idea is there, now, and she knows what to do."

"Will it work?"

"Probably. For a couple of days, anyway. He's intelligent enough that he bores, easily, and young and used to being active. Enforced inactivity is not easy on him."

"You just need to keep him in bed until he heals."

"Too bad your stone isn't one that can heal him faster," she said with a smile.

"It wouldn't be able to get close enough to do it, even if it could heal with a touch. The damage it caused would be greater than anything it cured."

Maximoff rolled her eyes. He was almost all knowing, and with the infinity stone in his head, he seemed indestructible, but Vision definitely needed to work on understanding facetiousness. She didn't mind. They had plenty of time to work on that.

"Do you need any more help with him?"

"No. The stone is calm, now that Peter is. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

OOOOOOO

"He slept all night?"

"No. But most of it. He had a moment there, when the teleporting stone showed up in his hand, but he woke up and handed it to me and told me he didn't need it just then."

"Really?"

Strange had come to the compound fairly late in the morning, assuming everyone would be up and about. He knew that Natasha had planned on spending the night with Peter to keep him in his bed, hopefully, but had figured that the boy would have been woken and fed by then and Natasha would be going about her regular daily responsibilities.

Instead, he'd found her in the lounge, drinking a morning cup of coffee and relaxing over a late breakfast. He'd joined her, rather than follow the cloak to Peter's room, curious how the night had gone.

"Yes. I'd say he was having an interesting dream, too, to judge by the way he was mumbling to himself in his sleep – almost like he was arguing with someone."

"He might have been," Strange said, shrugging. "I've noticed him do it, before. Tony's with him, now?"

"Yes."

"I think I'll go check on him. I hate to wake him up if he's sleeping, but we'll want to feed him breakfast and he'll have plenty of time to sleep later if he's still tired, stuck in bed like he is."

"I actually have an idea that might keep him occupied – or at least distracted," Natasha told him with a smile.

"Oh?"

"Yeah." She got up, stretching lazily, feeling good for having slept the entire night with Peter. Despite the fact that she was always aware of what he was doing when she was with him, she seemed to get her best sleep with him cuddled beside her. "Come on, I'll tell you about it on the way to his room."