Chapter 38
“Well, crap…”
Strange didn’t have any better eyesight than the rest of the people who were watching Peter, but he could see the cloak and knew that the rest of them couldn’t. He’d been watching (without appearing to be watching) as the cloak followed the boy down the beach. The camp dog had decided to stay on the dock and watch the kids swimming, but the cloak only seemed to be interested in Peter Stark and not any of the other children at the camp. It hovered for the most part, simply observing, but when the boy stopped to look up at the wasp nest in the tree, the cloak had stopped to look, too. By then a spell had allowed Strange to get a better look at what was going on and he’d seen the nest and had seen the cloak get much too close to it and actually hit it, causing the wasps to immediately go on the offensive.
He stood when Peter yelled, his reflexes quick but nowhere near as fast as Coulson’s. Of course, he was a sorcerer supreme and not a SHIELD agent, so he supposed it wasn’t a surprise. He heard Coulson yell for Peter to get into the water. At the same time, he saw the cloak trying to protect the running boy from the wasps but the ancient relic couldn’t do much against a hundred tiny attackers, and it must have realized that as quickly as Strange did, because the next thing Stephen knew the cloak had pushed the boy to the side, clearly trying to nudge him into the lake.
When that didn’t work, it simply grabbed him and tossed him in.
“Shit.”
No hiding that, was there? The doctor made an almost unnoticeable wave of his hand, clearing the wasps from the area with the motion, just as Coulson reached the area, running into the water toward the boy. There was clearly a drop off there, because the man suddenly disappeared under the water, coming up sputtering and reaching for Peter, who had already begun to splash his way toward the shore.
Strange followed the small group of people who headed toward that part of the beach, leaving two of the three lifeguards to keep the kids from joining them, but well aware that no one would question the camp doctor coming over to check on Peter.
OOOOOOOOOOO
“Are you alright?”
Phil was reaching for Peter almost before his head broke the surface of the water, but the boy was a good swimmer and plenty strong enough to keep himself above water for the few moments that it took him to get himself back to the shore. His eyes were wide, though, and red, and Coulson knew that there’d be tears in them if the water hadn’t washed them away.
“I’m okay,” Peter told him, looking around when Coulson got a hand around his arm to pull him onto the beach. “Just stung a few times.”
“More than a few…” The boy had only been wearing swimming trunks and flipflops and his upper body was peppered with red marks that were clearly stings. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be any more wasps in the area, because neither of them heard any buzzing. “What happened?”
“They started chasing me.”
Peter looked down at himself, but he only had a couple of stings on his belly and chest. The majority were on his back. Phil winced in commiseration as he started checking for any that looked to be serious, wondering how many were dangerous for a little guy like Peter.
“Let me see…”
They both looked up to see Doctor Strange hurrying up to them, and Coulson was suddenly concerned when he saw the doctor’s worried expression. Peter didn’t notice, because he was suddenly feeling sick – and sore. Tears welled in his eyes – not so much from the pain, but because he was suddenly feeling nauseous, and he was scared he was going to throw up on someone and embarrass himself.
“Is he alright?” Coulson asked.
“He will be.” Strange swept Peter up into his arms and headed back toward the dock – and the trail toward his cabin. “He isn’t allergic to bees, right?”
He’d read all of the camper’s sheets and was sure he’d remember if any of them were allergic, but he wanted to make certain and he knew SHIELD would know anything needed to know about Peter’s health.
“No.”
Strange’s legs were longer than Phil’s, but the SHIELD agent had no problem keeping up.
“I’m okay,” Peter said, feeling a little scared at how serious both men seemed to be. The stings hurt, but not that much. Well, maybe a little more now than they did, before, but not so much that he couldn’t walk himself to wherever it was they were going. “I can walk…”
“You’re fine,” Coulson agreed, hearing the concern in his young charge’s voice and trying to reassure. “But we need to get you checked out as soon as possible, and your legs aren’t as long as Doctor Strange’s. Just hang on.”
“Do we call Tony?”
That was Romanoff’s voice in his ear and Coulson frowned, and then nodded, touching his communications tab. He wasn’t surprised that Romanoff was already aware of what happened, and was almost surprised that Stark didn’t already know.
“To tell him what happened, yes. Make sure he understands that Peter is fine. It’s just a few stings.”
“It could be more serious than that,” Strange disagreed, rounding the corner of the main building and heading up the trail to his cabin. “There is a possibility of an excess of venom making him ill, so we’ll need to get it cleared as soon as possible.”
“Venom?” Peter echoed, his eyes widening. “Like a snake?”
“Wasp stingers carry a particular form of venom,” Strange told him – and Coulson – automatically falling into lecture mode, because he knew he was smarter than everyone around him. “Individually, there is minimum risk from a sting as long as the person stung isn’t allergic or sensitive. Throw several stings into the mix and there’s always a chance that the build up of venom could be serious…”
Peter gasped, and the doctor didn’t miss the sudden fear in his expressive brown eyes. He hesitated, not immune to the boy.
“But that’s very rare, of course.”
Coulson rolled his eyes, but Peter didn’t see it.
“You’re going to be fine,” he told Peter.
“Really?”
By then Strange’s long legs had carried him and Peter to the porch of his cabin.
“Sure. We’ll put some ice on the stings to keep them from hurting so much and I’ll monitor you for any indication that the venom is going to cause you any discomfort and handle it as needed.”
“How long until we know?” Coulson asked.
“Next few hours.” He turned his attention to the boy as he settled him into one of the chairs on his porch. “I’m going to keep you here, Peter, so I can keep an eye on you for a while and take care of those stings.”
“I’m going to call Stark,” Coulson told them, moving slightly to the side, but staying where he could keep an eye on Peter.
“What do I do?” Peter asked Strange.
The doctor hesitated. How was he supposed to know what little kids did in their spare time?
“You hang out here. Read a book, or something.”
“What book?”
“Any book.”
“I don’t have any books here.”
Now it was the doctor’s turn to roll his eyes.
“What book would you want to read?”
“I don’t know. A calculus book, maybe?”
What a little nerd.
“Give me a title.”
“Early Transcendentals.”
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
“He what?”
“He was stung by some wasps. The doctor is looking at him, now.”
“Is he alright? Do we come bring him home?”
“Doctor Strange doesn’t seem to think it’s too serious,” Coulson said, looking over his shoulder and watching as Strange handed Peter a hard-covered book that looked like a textbook. “He said he’s going to keep him close for a few hours to make sure the venom doesn’t-“
“Venom?”
“Not a lot,” the SHIELD agent said, quickly. “But Peter’s a little guy, so the doctor wants to make sure he’s okay.”
“We’ll be there in an hour.”
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
“We’re not bringing him home because he got stung by some bees.”
Tony scowled at his wife, who was a lot calmer (at least she appeared to be) than he was. They were in a conference room, getting ready for a meeting when Coulson called them. Now there were a dozen bigwigs outside the room, waiting to be admitted, and watching them through the glass walls as Tony paced.
“He’s hurt.”
“Stung by a bee.”
“A bunch of them,” Tony corrected. “He could be really sick.”
“And Doctor Strange would tell us if he thought that were the case.”
“Unless he’s too busy writing Peter’s obituary…”
Pepper smiled, resting her hand on his forearm. Tony Stark was a lot of things; brilliant, handsome, brave, and somewhat erratic at times, but he was definitely reactionary. Which was understandable when it came to anything to do with Peter and his safety. But he could – and did – tend to overreact, sometimes.
“He isn’t in danger.”
“Pep…”
“I know you want to go rescue him,” she told him. “But he doesn’t need you to come save him. He needs to be allowed to have fun at camp – despite having a bit of a tiff with some bees.”
“But-“
“Do you want to embarrass him?”
“It wouldn’t embarrass him.”
“And ruin his last few days at camp by rushing in and insisting he leave early?”
“He wouldn’t mind…”
He would, though, and Tony knew it. He sighed.
“If he needs anything, Natasha and Steve are right there. So are James and Phil.”
The problem, she knew, was that Tony wasn’t.
“Fine. Were not going to go get him.”
She smiled again.
“Thank you. Now call Phil and tell him we’re not coming and ask him to update us as soon as he finds anything out.”
Ugh.
“Fine.”