* (Evening-- New York) *
Thor ran a unnaturally shaky hand through his hair. Electricity crackled in the sky above them as he took deep breaths, attempting to calm his anger.
"And this... man," Loki spat out the word as if it were painful. "He is dead?"
"Yes, and unfortunately I hear it was quick and painless," Bucky snorted.
"How tragic," Loki frowned.
"Mr. Thor," Peter piped up from where he was wrapped in Bucky's arms, playing with some magnets from the fridge on the metal arm-- a fidget Bucky learned that Peter rather enjoyed.
"Yes, man of spiders?" Thor asked, hand gripping his hammer tightly as he tried not to think about the repulsiveness of the man he had just been told all about.
"Can you make the sky quiet down a bit please?" Peter squeaked, burying himself deeper into Bucky's arms as he clutched an Iron Man magnet in his hands.
"He's got hyper-sensitive senses. Thunderstorms, sadly, are not his favorites," Steve explained to Thor, who was looking even more confused than normal.
"I apologize, I did not realize," Thor loosened his grip on the hammer and took a deep breath. Almost immediately the storm raging outside began to calm down.
"I bet you've got weathermen out there stumped," Bruce cracked with a weak smile. He was trying to keep his cool so hard that it was taking almost everything out of him. Even smiling felt difficult at the moment. All he wanted to do was nap, but he knew that either the Other Guy would take over and make everything much worse than it already was, or he might miss an update from Pepper or Tony.
"So, other than this revolting man that you have informed us of, why else has Stark summoned us from Asgard? Especially I, as it seems that in the past that has meant nothing but trouble for you Midgardians," Loki drawled, folding his hands in his lap as if it were a business negotiation.
"Harry... Harry has magic too. Very powerful magic from the sounds of it. According to the stories he's told, and some of the books we've managed to find, it sounds as if he's the most powerful wizard since Merlin," Steve responded, taking a pause to revel in the shocked expression that cross the God of Mischief's face.
Even after the battle over the Tesseract and the wormholes, Steve had never seen Loki look so surprised.
"The child... he has... how powerful is he? Can he do magic of the mind?" Loki stammered, appearing to be, for the first time ever, speechless.
"He can. I've never seen him intentionally do it. But ever since he told us about his magic, things with magically appear when he needs them," Bruce replied.
"One time, when I sneezed, a Kleenex appeared in my face and started wiping my nose for me. That was weird," Peter mumbled to nobody in particular.
"That is weird. You never sneeze," Bucky frowned, looking puzzledly at the teenager in his lap that was still fidgeting with the magnets.
"How old is the man of spiders?" Thor whispered to Bruce.
"He's sixteen, but whenever he's overwhelmed, he has the tendency to retreat into childish mannerisms. Right now, between the news of Harry and the sensory overload with everything new, he's just trying to cope. We're working on it, but for now, he likes being snuggled and fidgeting," Bruce replied patiently. He understood how odd it must be to walk into a sixteen year old boy being cradled by an ex-assassin like a baby koala.
"Ah, I see. Perhaps I will become good enough friends with man of spiders that he will, as you say, snuggle me. He looks very warm," Thor smiled, looking fondly upon the newest Avenger.
"I'm sure he would love that. Just be careful- your hugs can be lethal," Bruce teased, giving the god of thunder's large bicep a nudge with his elbow.
"I hate to break up this plan of 'snuggle-fest', but I think it would be best if we go find the other child," Loki drawled silkily.
Clint stood up suddenly, startling Peter who flinched in Bucky's embrace, and gritted his teeth.
"I'm going to train," he growled, walking away with his fists clenched, angry footsteps echoing through the tower.
"Who pissed in his Wheaties?" Bucky asked, looking up at Steve, who just responded by placing his hand on Bucky's non-metal shoulder.
"He is upset with me," Loki grinned wickedly. "Though I do not understand why. He was a good host, so I was a good guest."
"Loki," Thor growled in a warning voice. "Now is not the time nor place. You will leave him alone. We have been invited as guests."
Loki clenched his jaw, but Thor knew that he had won. There was something about Harry that intrigued his brother, and maybe even invoked an emotional response from him.
"What's going on?" Peter raised his head from where it was resting against Bucky's chest and looked up at the two soldiers above him.
"Hey Pete, how you feeling?" Steve asked softly. After sensory overload episodes like the one Peter had just experienced, the teenager was always a bit disoriented and groggy afterwards.
"M' head hurts, but 'm fine. How's Harry?" Peter groaned, sitting up and moving down the couch from Bucky.
"Let me go get you some of your Advil," Bucky rose and walked into the kitchen. He really did care about Peter, and Peter had taken a liking to Bucky almost immediately, to the surprise of everyone in the Tower, himself included. Peter had explained to him once, during a Christmas movie about misfits, that he had always thought of himself as different and that he liked the misfits. The underdogs.
Ever since then, there had always been a connection between the two of them, and Bucky had even come to think of Peter as a little brother, or a nephew.
"We haven't heard anything about Harry yet," he could hear Steve saying as he re-entered the living room with two of Peter's 'special' Advil and a glass of water.
"Can we go see him?" Peter asked. "I can call Aunt May, I'm sure she'll let me, or I could tell her that Mister Stark asked me to stay for some lab, or-"
"Peter," Steve stopped him, holding up his hands.
"I'll tell you what. I'll fly over there tomorrow morning, first thing, and I'll feel out the situation. If everything's okay, I'll let you know and someone can bring you over, okay?"
"I'll can stay with him. He can go to his aunt's and pack, and then come back over if she's okay with that," Bucky offered. "And if everything's okay, we'll bring Thor and Loki, and fly over tomorrow evening."
Steve nodded. He knew how close Bucky and Peter had become, and Bucky was really good at handling Peter when he was overwhelmed, so he wasn't worried about them on the flight over.
"Okay. In that case, we'd all better get some rest. It's going to be a long few days."
From behind them, Loki cleared his throat. "Ah, yes. What about us?"
"We have guest rooms," Clint snapped. "Or are you too good for those?"
"Clint," Bruce sighed, grabbing the archer's arm, reminding him to take a breath.
"Sorry," Clint mumbled half-heartedly, not truly meaning it.
"You called us down to Midgard to stay the night in some spare room?" Loki sneered, shaking his head as to shake the hair out of his face.
"I think that sounds like a terrific idea," Thor boomed, clapping his hands together. "By chance, do you have any cream of ice? You Midgardians really know how to make sweets, and I've taken a liking to this particular one."
"Ice cream?" Peter giggled. "Yeah, we've got some in the freezer, I'll show you where it is!"
"I really do like you boy of spiders," Thor chuckled, clapping Peter on the back a bit too forcefully on accident, knocking some of the air out of the teen.
"Technically it's Spiderman," Peter corrected cheekily, looking up at Thor with big brown eyes.
"You are no man of spiders. You are a boy. I will call you boy of spiders."
"Or you could call me Peter," he grinned at the god of thunder.
"Peter," Thor tried the name out. "Peter it is."
* (The next morning- England) *
Tony shifted in his seat, trying to find the most comfortable position, but finding himself unsuccessful.
It had been two days since the incident with the ventilator, and in that time, Tony had only left his side once to go shower and eat. The rest of the time, the nurses would be kind enough to bring him food from the cafeteria, and he would even hurry in the bathroom so that he could get back out to Harry.
Closing his eyes, Tony leaned his head against the back of the chair with a sigh. The past several sleepless nights were catching up with him, and there was only so much coffee that he could drink, and he was pretty sure he had consumed every last drop of coffee in the hospital.
He hadn't realized he had drifted off to sleep until he was being woken by something touching his hand, squeezing with the smallest amount of strength.
Tony groaned at the crick that had formed in his neck and began to roll it out, before opening his eyes to see Harry's brilliant green ones staring back at him, blinking slowly.
"Harry!" Tony exclaimed in the softest voice he could muster. He looked down at his hand where Harry's was gripping his. Careful of the IV sticking from his hand, he wrapped both of his calloused hands around Harry's soft ones, lowering his head to Harry's knuckles in attempt to hide his tears.
Harry went to reach his other hand up, whimpering when he realized that something was stopping his arm.
"Shh, it's okay," Tony soothed as Harry began to thrash and whine, eyes flashing wildly with fear at being tied down.
"They're just the restraints to keep you from pulling out the ventilator, it's okay. Calm down," Tony hushed, standing up and grabbing at Harry's wrists gently.
"Look at me son," Tony spoke softly, but there was a stern undertone to his voice. Harry slowly tore his eyes from trying to find the source of the restriction to look up at Tony.
"I'm going to call a nurse in to come get those off, and see about taking you off of that ventilator, okay? But I need you to calm down first. Can you do that for me?"
Harry gave a small nod. He was getting tired of fighting the restraints and his body felt like it was on fire from thrashing about.
"Okay," Tony released Harry's arms slowly and pressed the call button on the wall. Only moments later, a nurse hurried into the room, grabbing a pair of gloves from the wall.
"Hey, look at who's awake," she spoke with a soft South African accent, and Harry immediately recognized her as one of his regular nurses that spoke to him when they thought he was asleep. But he wasn't always sleeping- sometimes his eyes were just too heavy to open, or the lights were too bright.
The nurse grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and gently slid them on his face.
"There you go sweetie," she smiled. Harry blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the prescription again, and glanced at the badge that the kind nurse was wearing, reading that her name was Fatimah.
"I'll bet you want these off, don't you," she tsked, reaching for the restraints and beginning to remove them. "There you go, that's better isn't it?"
Harry tried to let out a sigh of relief, but instead ended up with an odd mixture of air that was trying to be forced into his body and what he wanted to exhale, causing him to cough a bit.
"Oh dear," Fatimah frowned. "You poor thing, let me go get Dr. Atkins, and we'll see about getting you off of that horrible thing, yeah?"
Harry nodded, eyes burning with tears from the pain in his chest that the coughing caused.
"Here you go darling," Fatimah handed him the familiar red pump, and Harry greedily hit the button twice, immediately feeling more relaxed as the feeling of fire throughout his body faded away.
"I'll be right back," Fatimah told Tony, who nodded.
"Thank you," he told her.
"My pleasure. He's a sweetie," Fatimah turned and gave Harry a kind wink before disappearing out the door to go find Dr. Atkins.
Harry turned his head slowly to look at Tony, holding up a hand and making a writing motion. Tony caught on almost immediately and looked around the room for a pen and paper.
"Oh, here you go!" He cried, racing over to the door where a small white board and a magnetized dry erase marker hung. He unhooked it and brought it over to where Harry was reaching for it.
Tony watched as Harry, in a painstakingly slow manner, shakily wrote out the letters.
V
E
R
N
O
N
?
Harry turned the board around slowly, closing his eyes and letting a tear escape down his face.
"Oh Harry," Tony moved to the head of the bed and began stroking Harry's head, running his fingers through Harry's unruly hair. "He's gone. He's really gone. He can't hurt you anymore. I promise."
Harry fumbled with the marker again, right below where he had written the name of the man who had caused him so many years of pain.
H
O
M
E
?
Tony let out a soft, nervous chuckle.
"As soon as they clear you for travel, we'll get you home and into the med bay there. In the mean time, the doctors and nurses have been really good here, and you've got them all wrapped around your finger," Tony replied.
"That he does," a female's voice spoke from the doorway. Tony looked up to see Dr. Atkins standing at the door, giving them a kind smile.
"Fatimah tells me that you might want to get rid of this big, ugly contraption, is that right?" Dr. Atkins asked, motioning to the ventilator. Harry nodded his head as quickly as he could muster, which wasn't as fast as he was hoping.
But his message was clear.
"Well, your oxygen levels look stable enough that I'm confident that, with the help of some oxygen still, you'll be fine without it," she spoke after studying the charts and monitors next to his bed for a moment. She sanitized her hands and grabbed a pair of gloves before turning to the raven-haired teenager.
"You know the drill already. It's going to be pretty uncomfortable for a few seconds, but then, no more big tubes, okay?"
"Let's keep it that way for a while, okay?" Fatimah spoke from the doorway. "That thing covers your handsome little face, and I want to see your cute smile, yeah?"
Harry gave a small nod, and his lips curled up a bit around the blue bite block.
"Just like that one," Dr. Atkins smiled. "Alright, you ready?"
At Harry's determined nod, Dr. Atkins began.
"Fatimah is just going to suction your mouth out, just like that. There we go. Okay, now, blow as hard as you can on three. One...two...three..."
She eased the tube out of Harry's mouth as quickly as possible, wincing as he coughed and gagged.
"There you go, almost there," she encouraged. "One more time with the suction and...All done."
"Good job kid, you did great," Tony praised, continuing to run his hands through Harry's hair before pausing and turning around to pour something out of a pink pitcher.
"Here you go, I recall you liked these last time," Tony spooned a few ice chips out of the cup, and Harry open his mouth excitedly.
Tony carefully spooned the chips into Harry's mouth, and Harry moaned as his chapped lips closed around the most delightful thing he had ever tasted.
Tony pulled the spoon out of his son's mouth and placed it into the cup again, laughing as Harry opened his mouth again expectantly.
"Easy there, we've got plenty," he chuckled. "How're you feeling?"
"Fi-," Harry swallowed thickly, trying to wet his throat enough to get words to come out. "Fine."
"Any pain?" Fatimah asked, bustling around to take his vitals.
"Bit," he croaked. "But s'kay."
"Let's go ahead and up his dosage on the pain meds a bit," Dr. Atkins told Fatimah who nodded. "Keep that oxygen mask on and keep taking deep breaths okay? You'll get winded easily while talking until your voice remembers how to work. I've got to finish my rounds, but I'll be back in a bit to check up on you, how does that sound?"
"Thank you," Tony gave her a kind smile, feeding Harry another spoonful of ice chips.
"The same goes for me, but you both take it easy okay? Get some rest," Fatimah smiled softly, finishing entering Harry's vital into a tablet.
"Thank you, for everything," Tony told her as well, standing up to shake her hand.
"Oh come here, I'm a hugger," she grinned, pulling Tony into a tight hug, making Harry giggle.
"As soon as you're up and out of that bed, Mister, you'd better expect one too," she wiggled her finger at him, scrunching up her nose as she smiled, making him giggle some more. "And keep up that laughing. I find it's the best medicine."
She gave them one final smile before exiting, letting the door shut softly behind her.
"M'sorry," Harry spoke finally, reaching for Tony. "Shoulda let you help."
"Don't you dare apologize," Tony grabbed his hand and held it between his. "I'm sorry for not being there to stop him. I'm... I'm the one who should be apologizing."
"No," Harry rasped. "Wanted to do it... by myself. Wanted to get... closure... on my own."
He swallowed again, and without needing to be asked, Tony reached for the glass of water with a straw in it, helping Harry take a sip.
"Is that any better?" Tony asked, lines of concern etched into his forehead.
"Loads," Harry gave him a weak smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I should have let you know that I was going upstairs to get the key, or that I would be a bit longer."
"Harry-" Tony began.
"My godfather died protecting me, and so did his husband. My headmaster, too. And my potions teacher, who was a complete arse to me, but he still died to protect me. How fucked up is that?"
"That was their choice, Harry. You had no control over that," Tony sighed.
"Really? My best friends, or former best friends at least, won't talk to me because of that. Ron, he was my best mate. His brother died because of me. He and Hermione haven't spoken to me since," Harry stared at the wall, past Tony, eyes glazed over as he relived everything that went down at the Ministry of Magic that night.
"Harry, I'm sure they're not mad at you. They're probably just grieving-"
"I'M GRIEVING TOO!" Harry cried as loud as his voice could muster, before dropping his head into his hands.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you," Harry cowered away from Tony.
"Harry, you don't have to be sorry. If you need someone to yell at, yell at me. Yell away. If you need to throw something at someone, I've got a suit of iron, so throw away. If you need a shoulder to cry on, I've got two, and a line of people behind me that would be more than willing to give you theirs as well."
"I'm so fucked up," Harry lifted his head and looked at Tony with a tear-streaked face.
"You are not," Tony frowned, getting out of his chair and sitting on the foot of Harry's bed.
"I am. I'm grieving the death of my godfathers, yes, and my headmaster, my friends and teachers that sacrificed themselves for me, and the loss of my best mates, but I'm also grieving Vernon's death. How fucked up is that? He was the person that hurt me most in this world- more than Voldemort ever could. But he was the last of my family that gave a damn about where I was, even if it was to track me down to hurt me. I'm fucked up."
Harry began sobbing, burying his face into his hands.
"Oh Harry," Tony broke, wrapping his arms around his kid, rocking him until they were both out of tears and Harry was breathless.
"Here you go, deep breaths," Tony grabbed the oxygen mask from the wall and turned it on so that it was delivering oxygen to his son's lungs.
Suddenly, the doors to the hospital room burst open, making both of them jump.
"Tony, we've got a problem," a ragged Steve said in the most breathless manner Tony had ever seen.
"What now?" Tony growled. He was just getting Harry to open up, and now there was yet another interruption.
"It's the wife. She's filing a lawsuit against us."
*
(Meanwhile-- The Burrow)
Minerva McGonagall knocked on the door, pulling her cloak tighter around her body as the rain pelted down upon her and Poppy Pomfrey as they waited on the doorstep to the Burrow.
"Minnie! Poppy! What're you two doing here?" Molly Weasley asked, opening the door.
"So sorry to drop by here unannounced Molly, but can we come in for a moment?" Minerva asked.
Molly nodded, stepping to the side as she opened the door wider to let the other two witches in.
"Would either of you like some tea?" Molly asked as a polite gesture, but Minerva could see past the woman's formalities. She was exhausted and hurting. She looked... empty.
She supposed that losing a child could do that to someone.
"No, thank you," Poppy replied kindly. "We just wanted to stop by to ask you a few questions. Have you heard from Harry at all this summer?"
Molly's kind, welcoming façade broke at that, leaving her standing there, bottom lip quivering and legs shaking as if they were about to give out on her at any moment.
"Ronald!" She called shakily up the stairs.
"If you'll excuse me," she mumbled to the other two witches, before disappearing into the kitchen.
"Mum?" Ron asked, coming down the stairs, looking around for his mother.
"Professor McGonagall? Madame Pomfrey? What're you doing here?"
"Mr. Weasley," Minerva greeted him with a thin lipped smile, but she knew that based on Molly's reaction, they were not going to get the response they wished for. "How has your summer been?"
"What's going on Professor?" Ron slunk towards them wearily.
"Mr. Weasley, to get right to the point, we are looking for Mr. Potter. Have you seen him this holiday?" Poppy asked, bypassing all formalities.
Ron's eyes darkened, and his face fell into an icy slate, none of the previous warmth or concern there anymore.
"He is not welcome in this house. He's caused enough damage to my family, and those that I love. We don't need him anymore."
Poppy had to stifle a gasp at the Gryffindor's response. After everything those three had been through the past five years, she couldn't believe that Ron was so quick to shove Harry out of his life.
"I think it'd be best if you left, Professor," Ron walked to the door and opened it up.
"Mr. Weasley-" Poppy began.
"Please. I'll see you when the new term begins," Ron responded.
"Do you have any idea where Harry could be?" Minnie asked, hoping for even a hint to where they could find him.
"Goodbye Professor," and with that, the door swung shut, leaving both witches standing in the downpour.
*
(A/N: Whoa there, it's been a minute. Happy holiday season to everyone who celebrates! I'm so sorry that it's taken me so long to update, it's just I have been facing some major deadlines at school [someone please explain to me why this 4000 word essay has been so hard to write over nine months but I can write a 4000 word chapter in a week? Ugh, essays are hard], and I've had a few presentations to prepare for [one of them being 10 minutes about how the intent of the artist affects the degree of emotional reaction...yeah that wasn't fun], plus trying to balance other classes, a social life and overcome some writers block [and the fact that we got Disney+ and Hulu this week aren't helping either]. Anyway, I hope to have some more updates for you by the end of this weekend, because I won't have school Wednesday, Thursday, or Friday, so hopefully I can get some writing done then! Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate, and have a great week even if you don't! Thanks for reading and I hope you're still enjoying! Stay safe everyone!)