Tony instantly called. He should have felt some semblance of apology for calling the kid only minutes after he had left, but now he needed a new game plan.
Instead of SpiderMan actually answering the call, the mirror clad hero swooped through two beams before landing in a ninja crouch on a platform too small for anyone to pull off a ninja crouch.
"What's up, Tin Man?" SpiderMan asked, turning to acknowledge Loki with a "Hanging in alright, Peppermint Patty?"
"Peppermint?" Tony questioned, causing the smaller male to groan.
"Oh yeah, spider senses. That guy smells like he walked through a Bath and Body Works during the December sale. It makes my face hurt."
Tony snickered at how outraged Loki looked in that moment, "I think he wants to make your face hurt for other reasons."
Peter flipping his hand, proclaimed, "Tarantula, Tarantula. Same things, just said differently."
"Are you as hairy as a tarantula?"
"Alright, Mr. Stark. That is on a firm need-to-know basis and you haven't gotten to that stage of being my sugar daddy yet."
The younger jumped down, standing in Tony's immediate vicinity. SpiderMan straightened, still wearing his reflective panel suit, and leant firmly against Tony's chest.
"So, what's the diagnosis, doc? Mild Insanity? Short term madness?"
"Worse," Tony grimaced, "I think, when he invaded with that army, he was under mind control."
Peter scrambled back. His voice, higher than normal, all but shrieked, "That's a thing? Are all of those Science Fiction head-cannons coming true?"
"What head-canons?" Tony blinked. Genuinely he didn't know any, "Are there any about me?"
"Yeah, you and Captain America are apparently banging each other and he makes good apple pie."
"Steve doesn't even know how to use my oven."
Peter shrugged, "To be honest, people my age jump to ridiculous conclusions. And find out things that they shouldn't know but somehow they do?" Peter's voice rose as his confusion mounted, "Like, just the other day a friend of mine was telling me how Captain America is going to substitute teach at Xavier's, as an art teacher?"
Tony blinked, even he hadn't known that. "Really?"
"Never underestimate the powers of fans."
Loki flailed once more, the hollow noise of his fists banging against the hardened cocoon resonated dully. Trails of saliva were hanging down from where the white silk gagged him, even his Asgardian teeth weren't able to saw through.
"Right right, so problem at hand." Spider Man started, "We got Loki and apparently he was mind controlled. What are we gonna do, give him to Xavier? See if he can fix him?"
Tony lowered his faceplate only to give Peter a dry look, "Are you kidding me? I worked long and hard for this caribou, no way am I just giving him to a mutant."
"Hey watch it," Peter shot him quickly, "Technically, I could classify as a mutant."
Well, that wasn't wrong.
"Okay okay, no discrimination here," Tony tried to sooth the situation, "I mean, I love Brucie and Xavier is cool, but I don't like people messing around up there." Tony tapped his temple gently with the Iron Man gauntlet, "Just in case someone messes with the genius."
Peter gave a shrug, "Okay, I get that. Um, I know this guy that apparently is into hocus pocus stuff?"
"Petey, I know that a boy your age participates in illegal substances but-"
"No!" Peter yelped, scrambling backwards and nearly falling off his little platform, "Okay, that did sound like a drug dealer, but I swear it isn't. I think he used to be a doctor or something? And then reports in the superhero network said something about now he does magic-"
"Superhero network?" Tony almost laughed, "Do we have a Facebook page too?"
Tony managed to close his visor just before a wet splat of silk hardened over his face. He opened it with a scowl, "That wasn't funny."
"Oh my bad. But yeah, surprising enough, I do know how to use the web."
Tony paused, "You already used that joke."
"Oh come on, It's not like I have that much to work with."
Alright, Peter had that point as well.
"Okay, you find out more about this magic man you happen to know-" Tony paused, "And if he sells shrooms, let me know because that also is important. To our investigation. Never know what'll cure our frosty friend."
"Shrooms?" Peter deadpanned, "I am a legal law abiding citizen, Sir. I do not think partaking in that sort of behavior is befitting for someone of your caliber-"
Tony shook his head, "Fine fine, I get it. Sheesh, almost as noble as Spangles' sex life."
"Dude, I live in west side Queens. The most noble thing I saw was a drug dealer keeping his side of the bargain."
Tony squinted at Peter speculatively, "You know a weed dealer? Because I got an always angry pal who really needs some weed."
"You got the dough, I'll get it for yo." Peter replied with a perfect deadpan in an embarrassingly spot on drug dealer accent. Complete with gang signs.
"Where have you been all my life?"
Loki was cocooned further, just to make sure the shell couldn't escape. From there, Tony grabbed the casing (thanks to a few handles Peter added to the sleeping bag of angry Asgardian) and took off for a nearby storage facility.
There weren't many places to hide a supervillain in New York. Peter was the one to suggest a large storage company, with thousands of small rooms that looked the exact same.
Peter had the exact amount of awkwardness needed for the man in charge to give him a key and not ask any other questions. Tony snuck in the back once the security cameras were disabled and placed the muted webbed mess into one of the larger rooms.
"Great, go team." Tony exhaled, deactivating the suit into a briefcase.
"What do we do with him now?" Peter asked, cramming his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, "This feels wrong."
"Petey, when you live like us, you gotta tear a few tags off of mattresses, even though it says not to."
"Sir, that isn't even comparable to kidnapping a god."
Tony shrugged, "Something to put on your resume."
Peter groaned, turning and mumbling something under his breath as his hands fisted his hair anxiously.
Peter spun suddenly, eyes wide and frightened, "I have a family! What if he gets loose!"
Tony frowned, he hadn't really thought that Peter was that devoted to his family. Tony never really had understood family connections.
"I'll send some security guards to your house? Sneaky ones, like ninja assassins," Tony soothed, "Your family won't even know they're there."
Peter was still fretting nervously, twitching his fingers in a rhythmic anxious habit which was endearing in its own way.
"Tell you what kid," Tony spoke up, breaking the silence, "After all of this is over, you'll work at my tower. R&D, you'll love it. And you can have a private lab, to work on those," Tony pointed to the small devices around Peter's wrists hidden just out of view.
Peter looked struck, "You- you mean it?"
"Wouldn't have offered if I didn't."
"I-" Peter stumbled through what he was trying to say, "I mean- I'd love to, but I don't wanna get in your way-"
"Kid, you're smart." Tony frowned, why didn't Peter understand that? "I still can't understand how you made that webbing, and you showed me the formula."
Peter grinned cheekily, eyes sparkling in delight, "Wanna know a secret, Mr. Stark?"
Tony leaned forward interested. It was no use to try and correct Peter's politeness in how to refer to his new employer.
"I have these things-" Peter mentioned vaguely somewhere on his back, "and it makes the missing component in my webbing."
Tony's jaw dropped, "You have spinnerets?"
Peter winked, then turned and left the storage unit.
Tony paced restlessly as Jarvis dialed. The ringing noise created more tension the longer it went unanswered.
Finally, there was a click and a garbled, "Yeah?"
"Peter!" Tony barked out, feeling inexplicably relieved now that he knew his young friend was alright, "Are you on a bridge or something? Riding in a car with the top down?"
"Um," There was a noticeable pause, "I'm on a car? Technically?"
"Look at you, you little speed demon," Tony snarked, pausing when the other end went grainy for a few moments before clearing out, "Better?"
"You would not believe the traffic; I swear these people are trying to kill me."
"Splat on the windshield," Tony dryly stated, pulling up multiple document files, "So anyways, I checked out doctors and magic and got nothing except referrals to psychiatric wards-" Peter snorted heavily and Tony decided to ignore it, "But, apparently there was this guy who was a good surgeon, I may have let him take a crack at my reactor actually-"
"That good?" Peter whistled low, the sound choppy and distorted on the phone, "Oh man, Stark quality. Not sure that's in my paygrade."
"You get a raise."
"What's my health insurance? What if I or a loved one has mesothelioma-"
"That's because you go flying into old buildings."
"Touché. Alright, hit me with what you got. Some high end surgeon that even you're impressed by?"
"Yep," Tony hummed, "But then he got in a hardcore car crash- ooh, that car is totally my style, and this guy completely wrecked his hands."
"When you say wrecked, do you mean like-"
"Like, Bruce's shirt after he hulks out," Tony emphasized, grabbing a nearby bottle of water, "Totally wrecked."
"Dang, that's Grand Theft Auto level of wrecked. Okay, so amazing surgeon gone to crap- please tell me it's not another Lizard."
"Nah, but he did vanish mysteriously off the grid after giving up on PT. Not that I blame them, they just whine and get angry when you don't do the stretches anyways."
"Vanished? Just like that? This is stinking of supervillain."
"But, he does show up. In a hospital, after being stabbed."
"Which hospital? I can try and go ask around if you want-"
"Nah, Jarvis already broke in," Tony dismissed, flicking through the feed and watching the actual recording, "Although he seems to be our guy. I think he just made a broom cupboard the portal to Narnia."
"Okay, I'm just going to say right now it's against my morals to kill a Lion."
Tony snorted, "Right, I'll just give you to the crocodile."
"As long as it's not a gorilla. I'm still mourning for Harambe."
Once Tony started to look into the files, he realized that this man was one of the surgeons who was going to work on the Arc.
Tony had made plans hastily about getting the shrapnel removed from his body- he had searched the best surgeons on the planet trying to find someone capable enough. Unfortunately, it had dawned on him that every piece of shrapnel was too difficult to remove so the reactor would have to stay.
This, Dr. Strange was one of the top three surgeons on his list for possible open heart surgery.
And as such, Tony had his direct phone number.
Tony considered telling Peter of this development, but decided ultimately not to. It was time for grown up conversations.
He dialed, well, rather Jarvis dialed. And he waited, and waited-
The phone number was at least still in use, Tony had a feeling that this man wouldn't pick up anyways.
Plan B.
"Jarvis, do a facial scan on the security footage and find out who that nurse was that helped him when he got stabbed," Tony clipped out, already searching through employee information.
"Of course, Sir. Ms. Palmer is the nurse you described."
"Palmer, Palmer," Tony muttered to himself, browsing down the list. Thank goodness that the last name wasn't something ridiculously common
"Gotcha, Christine Palmer." Tony nodded, flicking the number to dial.
The phone rang repeatedly, before finally clicking.
"Hello?" The voice was gently feminine, although noticeably puzzled.
"Hi! Yes, Palmer right?" Tony asked, far too giddy to act entirely civil, "At least, I'm guessing that's you since it's on your hospital profile."
"I- excuse me? Who are you?"
"Oh right, my bad. I'm always bad with introductions, well, I actually just forget that I need to do them still. Tony Stark, you may have heard of me." He grinned, the smooth confidence rolling off his words.
The phone was quiet for a few moments, "Right, yes. Erm, how can I help you, Mr. Stark?"
She didn't believe it was him, which was quite the inconvenience.
"Jarvis," Tony asked with a frown, "Can we initiate a link, like, a face to face thing?"
With a low beep, a panel appeared with the baffled and exhausted face of Christine Palmer.
At once, her eyes widened and her breath hitched.
"Oh," She breathed, sounding completely apologetic, "I hadn't realized-"
"No worries," Tony accepted, flipping his wrist dismissively, "I actually am looking for your friend- Mr. Strange? I have a bit of a situation and I need his help, I mean, if he can help."
Palmer's expression tightened, "Oh, I'm sorry. I don't know where he is right now. I'll leave him your name and number and he can call you back when available-"
"Look." Tony sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "We have this guy who has scrambled eggs for a brain through some sort of funky mind control."
Palmer's face twitched with the instant sympathy only nurses seemed to have, "Oh, why don't you go to the X-men, or I could refer you to a psychiatri-"
"No, see," Tony paused, "He's not…. he's kinda a mage."
Palmer blinked, "A mage? That's silly, magic doesn't exist."
Tony shot her a dry look which conveyed the 'yeah-you're-not-fooling-me.'
"All of this is under the table- no government work, no agencies, and no Avengers," Tony soothed, "Only me, and I could really use the help."
Christine Palmer chewed her lower lip, looking uncomfortable with the situation.
"And if it isn't so much to ask," Tony added in quietly, his voice unsteady with the highly uncomfortable topic, "I'd like for him to take a look at this again." He tapped the shell of his reactor, the faint blue light barely visible through the black material of his shirt.
Her expression instantly softened and saddened. "Mr. Stark, I'm not sure if you know but Mr. Strange isn't certified-"
"No, no not like that," Tony recovered, shifting in his seat awkwardly, "I can engineer some machines to do it for me, or find someone else. But he knows his procedures well and-" Tony rambled off, anxiety mounting.
Palmer took pity and nodded soothingly, "I understand. Steven has been terribly busy, but normally you can find him in Greenwich Village. You may see him out on the streets- he likes taking walks?"
"Taking walks, got it." Tony blinked, "Should we just uh, bring our hostage there or-"
"Oh, right." She rubbed her face with one hand, "Your friend. Alright, you can find him at 177A Bleecker Street. You should probably talk before bringing anyone with you."
"I can do that," Tony nodded, "I'm amazing at negotiations, can totally talk to a magician."
"Sorcerer actually, good luck."
She broke the connection with a sly expression of amusement. Somehow, Tony had a feeling talking to this man was going to be a challenge.
The area of New York was littered with roads too narrow for the exotic cars Tony owned. Small street shops and venders on every street corner would make it too difficult to land the suit, not even accounting for how people would swarm him in excitement.
Suit and gaudy car weren't an option. Peter's webs would be just as bad.
There was also a chance that any sort of superhero activity would send Strange even further into hiding, which left the two with the only available option.
(Peter was so smug when he could show off his New York taxi whistle.)
The taxi driver was suitably surprised although didn't try to scam either of them. He took the two down the streets Tony would have taken, and talked only briefly in the New York drawl Peter had never developed.
They arrived in Greenwich Village a few blocks over from the address Ms. Palmer supplied. The streets were just windy enough that it sent a shiver down Tony's spine. Peter slung the hood of his sweatshirt up and over his scruffy hair, hiding his ears from the chill.
They passed a few people on the street, nobody recognizing Tony miraculously. There was one street vendor who looked almost willing to call out, but seemed to think better of it.
Tony stuffed his cold hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.
"There," Peter blurted, squinting and wincing suddenly at the action. Tony glanced where his younger friend had been staring, the building was nondescript and Tony felt his eyes rolling away-
"Whoa," Tony winced, forcing himself to stare and not turn his head, "What the heck?"
"I know right?" Peter grunted, rubbing the heel of one of his hands against his eye, "This is some Doctor Who crap right here."
Finally, after determined staring, the illusion cracked and crumbled. Nobody seemed aware as the stone itself seemed to shatter like a mirror, large broken shards of paper thin rock tumbled to the pavement and out of existence.
The building behind was spectacularly nondescript.
"That's it? You saw that, right?" Tony's voice rose to something distractingly high pitched, "You saw it just- just do that?"
"Yep," Peter blinked, "I really shouldn't be surprised anymore."
Peter took off across the street, hands in his pocket and looking both ways to prevent getting hit by a speeding car.
"Wait!" Tony gasped out, scrambling to chase after, "How did you know it was there?"
Peter tapped his head just shy of his temple and gave a meaningful look towards the genius. The 'Not-now' look.
They walked up the standard stone steps, although Peter noticed deep grooves in the stone.
"That looks like a diamond circle saw," Tony muttered, looking at other similar marks.
"Bet you it wasn't." Peter grinned cheekily, subtly pointing to a small spot of missed black char. Someone had done an elaborate job cleaning up soot and char from the front of the building.
Why would this Dr. Strange take time to clean so thoroughly if it was only him living here? Why would he try to keep appearances in his self-exile?
The only conclusion was that he had been attacked, and was trying to hide the evidence. With how difficult it was to even find the building, it must be other magical people who visited.
"Stay alert," Tony muttered under his breath, flexing his hand around his phone in his pocket, "I think we're stumbling into a cult here."
"Oh?" Peter had a small grin on his face, probably trying to sooth his own nerves, "Should I have brought a rabbit from the pet store?"
"They probably won't do any blood stuff," Tony paused, "Right? Right?"
Peter shrugged, "I thought they could pull it out of a hat or something."
Peter stood swiftly with the superhuman grace of a gymnast. He took the last two steps quickly, pulling out one hand to rap against the wooden door. It echoed slightly, just enough for Peter to tilt his head and listen. Tony did the best he could to breathe quieter, he even placed a hand over his watch.
"There's someone coming," Peter reported, frowning slightly as he tried to focus, "Male I think, or a really buff girl. The strides are long so either they're taking a stroll or it is a really tall guy."
Tony gave a nod and fiddled with his phone in his pocket. A sharp breeze pierced the two of them, drawing another fit of convulsive shivering.
"What- I think they're just standing there," Peter whined, twitching uncontrollably against the cold, "That dick."
Tony was about to respond that they weren't yet sure of the proper genitalia, but the large door creaked open and blasted the warmth of a heated home. Peter scrambled in, rubbing his fingers reverently while Tony winced at the sudden sharp temperature change. Considering how the casing to his Arc actually hurt for a short instance, that sudden of a temperature change shouldn't be possible.
"I take it back; you aren't a dick." Peter exhaled in bliss from the heat, "You're the least dickish guy I know."
"Flattered," A deep drawling voice echoed, sounding bitterly sharp as well as suspicious. The building opened into a square hall, curved flights of stairs sloped around the sides onto the second level in a dramatic platform fit for a king's decree.
Standing on the platform, both hands on a dented banister, was one of the gaudiest people Tony had ever seen. Almost as bad as Thor.
"If you don't mind, I would like to ask what you're doing here?"
Oh, definitely scathing. A voice that low and in such a smooth grumble shouldn't be that attractive.
"Hi! You must be Mr. Strang- "
"Doctor," The man bit out, unusual hazel eyes flinty in the dim lighting.
Tony could understand that, the man lost his place as one of the best doctors on the planet, Tony would cling to that for as long as he could as well.
"Doctor Strange," Peter was unusually cheerful, bouncing on the balls of his feet, "We were wondering if you could help us help a guy who is currently knocked out and in a storage unit in a giant cocoon because we think he got mind controlled by aliens." Peter paused, thinking, "Oh! And he does magic too."
"Don't forget that he's an alien also, I hear that's important." Tony offered, finally finding his voice.
The man curled his mouth into a small frown. His facial hair wasn't nearly as cool as Tony's.
Then he leant forward, almost the picture of exhaustion and resigned disbelief, "You know," Doctor Strange started, "That's not even the strangest thing I've had someone tell me in the last month."
