"Tony, I'm afraid I have some good news and I have some bad news. Which one are you feeling in the mood to deal with first?" Bruce was making a concerted effort to keep his voice calming and controlled while speaking to Tony, on. A good day you didn't want to get the billionaire too riled up or concerned about something, and this wasn't a good day, couldn't even be considered an okay day, what with the kid involved and all.

"Let's start with the good and think about the bad later when the kid is in bed I can have some whiskey."

"Tony" the warning was clear in his tone.

"I know, I know. No drinking with the kid around, I was only joking. And you don't have to worry, Rhodey's here to keep me on the straight and narrow if you don't trust me."

"You know that's not what I meant Tony, anyway, the good news is that Peter isn't going to be getting any younger, the de-aging effect in his cells appears to have run its course."

An audible sigh of relief rushed down the line, and Bruce continued. "As well, whatever was in the serum Pete was injected with, it isn't doing any actual physical harm to him. It's not spreading poison, eating his cells, anything like that, asides from him being much younger, it hasn't had any other effect."

"Well that's a relief." And it was, some might have thought Tony was being flippant with his answer but if you knew him well enough you could hear the sheer relief in his voice at the news that the kid, his kid, wasn't suffering some irreparable damage. "Now I hesitate to ask, but what exactly is the bad news then?"

"The bad news is, that this isn't something simple that can be fixed with science, much as it pains me to say it. I can see the way his genes have changed but not how they've been changed, it's almost like some kind of force has just reached in and switched things off, played with his genetic code like it was a toy."

"So what are you saying Bruce?"

"I'm saying that this wasn't science, and you're going to need something not science to fix it. You're going to have to swallow your pride, put your ever so impressive ego aside and contact Strange."

With a wince, Bruce pulled the phone away from his ear in preparation for the ranting tirade that was sure to follow the mention of Strange and the suggestion of asking for help in the same sentence. Surprisingly, no shouting issued from his phone's tinny speakers and he tentatively returned the phone to his ear just in time to hear the quietly exhaled "fine" from Tony's end. His eyes widened in surprise, and his heart warmed at the change that was so evident in his friend, fatherhood suited his erstwhile playboy friend.

"Good, you know where to find him?"

"I know I met him in Central Park but that's about it, he could live in Timbuktu for all I know." Tony muttered grumpily, pulling a notepad and pen towards him. Usually he would trust his AI to take down any relevant information for him but when it came to the super secret location of New York's resident magic man, even he wouldn't take the risk of someone getting through his firewall, no matter how unlikely.

An hour later, after having managed to get an extremely sticky and grumpy Peter into and out of a bath full of soapy water and into a new pair of jeans and jumper, here he was strolling briskly through Central Park with an exhausted toddler cradled in his arms, hot breaths puffing against his neck.

He wasn't sure if it was just his imagination but he could feel eyes burning holes in the back of his head as he walked. He had made sure to put on his darkest pair of sunglasses, brushed his hair down as flat as it would go and had even foregone his usual going out trousers with a pair of cream chinos and a Metallica t-shirt, and that was covered with a leather jacket. Casting a furtive glance around, he hefted Pete higher in his arms and picked up his pace slightly, the faster he got inside the sooner he could shake off this feeling of being observed, and get the kid out of this chill wind that had picked up in the past ten minutes or so.

It was with no small measure of relief that he spotted the frankly medieval looking towering wooden doors that marked the entrance to the New York sanctum, or so Bruce's instructions told him. Double checking that he had indeed approached the right door, it would be beyond embarrassing if Tony Stark and a toddler appeared at some random institute's front door. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, he seized the big brass knocker and rapped determinedly three times.

All of a sudden, the door swung open with a massive gust of wind that tugged on Tony's hair and threatened to carry off the beanie hat from Peter's head. "Come in" Stephen's drawling tone echoed through the cavernous hallways, and nothing had ever made Tony want to punch something more.

But, he was here for Peter, and so he stamped down the childish desire to call something snarky back at the distant magician. Instead he pulled Peter's hat back down on his head and left one large hand cupping the toddler's head close to his chest, and indulged in his instinct to stick his tongue out at the air before making his way deeper into the building.

"Mr Stark" Stephen greeted in a measured tone, not even bothering to turn from his place gazing out the huge porthole window, leafing through an aged, crinkled book. "To what do I owe this peculiar pleasure?"

"I'm sure your wizardness is already fully aware of why I'm here, and if you aren't then the freaking toddler I'm carrying that used to be a sixteen year old boy, should clue you in pretty sharpish!"