The past few days had been a bit of a blur. For the first time since Tony had arrived in Cardiff months ago, alive and intact, time no longer seemed to drag by at an unbearable pace. Morgan's arrival had forced him to extricate himself from the dark places his mind had begun to inhabit. He was a father again, and with that came renewed purpose. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that this change would be permanent. He had seen enough of the visitors here come and go to know that there was no permanence in this place. Still, he would hold on to this extra time with his daughter with both hands while he could.
Said daughter had developed a particular liking of the magical sweets that had been gifted to her by Harry Potter, and while Nat kept an eye on her while she dozed off to story hour on the wizarding wireless, Tony had gone out to replenish their candy jar and pick up a few more things to help Morgan settle in.
Hearing his name called and then being made to do a 180 in the middle of the street, Tony's brow was scrunched up in a mixture of annoyance and surprise when he turned around. Seeing Peter's face on an English wizard still set him on edge a little, but it was no longer the gut-punch that it once was. "Where's the fire, Potter?" he asked, his expression softening a little. He couldn't help but like the kid. A bit of bias, for nostalgia's sake.