Harry Potter and the Unexpected Family

Tony was horrified.

When Harry had pulled away from them to pace around the tacky floral living room, he wasn't sure what had the kid so wound up. Well, Tony knew that Harry had just watched the same upsetting memory they all did, but he didn't think Harry was feeling the kind of anger (and let’s be honest with ourselves, Tony, the hurt) that he was still ready to unleash on James. The kid seemed to be feeling more of an agitated distraction than pain or frustration.

And then Harry started talking. Tony had been terrified when he heard that Harry had been set up to die as a fourteen year old, but by that point it was clear that the kid wasn't really talking to them, it was more like he was talking and just happened to be near them. Tony had shouted something, probably along the lines of "what the fuck?", when Harry had dropped the whole death-trap tidbit that made the whole room freak out, but the noise and tension in the room had barely gotten a twitch from the normally hypervigilant teen.

It took a moment for Tony to recognize what was going on, but when he did he stopped trying to converse with the kid and focused on listening. Harry seemed to be able to make quick connections and leaps in logic like Tony could, and when that happened to him, the genius sometimes had to take a step back and try to catch up to the rapidfire jumps in his own thoughts process. Usually, the best way to make sense of things was to talk himself through it out loud, often while doing some sort of repetitive movement like walking or tossing a ball in the air (thank you, ADHD). Tony guessed Harry did this as well, and was validated when Harry started pacing and spewing an admittedly insightful word vomit.

It would be almost (extremely) endearing to see his own habits in the kid if Tony wasn't so upset by what he said.

When James went to get Harry's attention again, Tony put a hand out to stop him, placing a finger over his lips and shaking his head. James seemed confused and irritated at that, but Tony knew that if he could keep the others from interrupting, they would likely learn a lot more than the guarded kid would typically share. He turned around and gave the same shushing signal to the rest of the team. Right now, Harry was lost in his own head and they should let him finish to see what they could find out.

Still, any hope Tony had for his kid’s childhood was destroyed as he was forced to listen to Harry parse through his own grooming like that (fuck, his child was groomed to fight a madman by that Gandolf rip-off). Tony was pretty sure he was tasting blood from biting his cheek so hard, and his limbs were locked from his hot coiled rage. In the back of his mind, he had just enough brain space to be impressed by the way Harry thoroughly and quickly identified how this manipulative headmaster douchebag had orchestrated his lifelong pain; it spoke to the kid’s intelligence and intuition, but the pragmatic, almost clinical way he described his own mistreatment was worrying. Tony felt the rope that Harry had around his heart cinching to the point it shouldn't be able to function at the same time fuel was being thrown on the already blazing inferno of his vengeful fury.

Tony couldn't tell if he was about to cry or scream or punch someone when Harry stopped talking. He was almost startled when the kid finally whipped his head around to them, looking like a deer in headlights as he probably just remembered they were there. At the all but panicked look that flashed in Harry's eyes, Tony took a breath and shoved all that rage neatly into a black box in the corner of his mind. He wouldn't let one drop of it go, not until he could point it toward the ones who did this to his son and make them hurt, but right now Harry wouldn't be able to tell that the anger wasn't for him. Tony needed to give the steering wheel to the part of his brain that was screaming at him to just fucking help his kid. 

In the few seconds it took Tony to get control of himself, Harry and the group of adults just stared at each other in mutual shock. It was clear no one was going to make the first move. Tony couldn't take it anymore, so he took a deliberate step toward the kid, tensing when Harry flinched but not stopping as he walked the few feet it took to stand in front of him. 

Harry seemed absolutely mortified at everything he'd said, and extremely nervous. Tony took the equally agonized reaction of the Remus guy to mean that Harry hadn't come forward about his abuse to anyone before, and figured it must be an unnerving thing to finally have that secret out in the open. Tony wanted to comfort him, to bundle him up and keep him safe from all the evil fuckers out there who thought it was ok to hurt his kid, but he wasn't sure how to go about it. Still, he had to do something, so he followed his instincts (which was a coin flip at the best of times, so Tony hoped that he wouldn't screw his kid over any more with his ineptitude).

Moving slowly enough that Harry could easily see it coming, Tony reached out to touch him. He let the fingertips of his right hand ghost over the livid, dark purple bruise on Harry's jaw, the one he'd gotten from the tub of lard with legs he'd seen in all the photos dotting the ugly wallpaper. Tony wouldn't risk hurting Harry, so he was careful to exert precisely no pressure anywhere near the bruise before he let his hand come to rest on Harry's shoulder. He finally steeled himself enough to meet those wide green eyes and let the kid see his own sorrow, shock, and remorse. Tony had thought this kid had been fucked over enough just getting him as a father, but the reality of Harry's life was so much fucking worse than his own deficiencies. He couldn’t believe people had actually hurt his incredible son on purpose. Tony had just met him and he could already see what a purely good person Harry was. How could anyone try to dim that sort of light?

Tony breathed, then asked a question he knew would have a horrible answer.

"Has he given you any other injuries recently, tesoro?"

The kid swallowed hard, eyes flicking around the room nervously as he cleared his throat. The confidence from a moment before was gone, and Harry looked younger than he had since Tony first laid eyes on him. He seemed to find the question a bit strange, and the confusion over why Tony wanted to know if he was in pain broke Tony’s heart all over again (the box of rage was a bit heavier too). Harry mumbled something Tony had to strain to hear.

"Nothing, uh … nothing major."

Tony felt a slowly building pressure in the air behind him that he was coming to recognize as magic, but he ignored it and kept all of his focus on Harry. Tony let his eyes close for just a moment to control his reaction. Harry had said it himself; abuse gives you a fucked up sense of acceptable injuries, and Tony didn't trust Harry's assessment at all. 

Tony opened his eyes and directed his energy to keeping his expression calm and gentle.

"Where are you hurt, kiddo?"

Harry hesitated even longer this time, which did nothing good for the worst case scenarios spiraling in Tony's mind, and his voice was even lower when he answered. He probably intended for Tony to be the only one to hear, but the older man knew that the two gods and Steve at a minimum would have heard what he said next.

"Just some, um, nearly healed belt marks on my back and, uh, … a couple of bruised ribs, I think."

Tony's breath caught in his throat, but before he could respond in any way, the magical pressure behind him burst outward violently. Tony stepped between Harry and the force that seemed to detonate, barely able to brace himself enough to keep both of them standing.

Looking over his shoulder, Tony saw James standing statue-still in the epicenter of what appeared to be a minor explosion. His jacket was twisting in an invisible wind as everyone struggled to remain upright or get back to their feet where they had fallen to the ground. As far as Tony could tell, James had let out some sort of uncontrolled surge of magical energy, which didn't surprise him since the man’s entire body spoke of agonized rage. Every muscle was locked in obvious tension, and his eyes had an animalistic, feral quality as they glared unfocused at the ground in front of him. A low growl could be heard coming from deep in James’ chest and even with the tears streaming down his face, Tony finally saw the power and wrath that had convinced ancient vikings to worship this man as a god.

Tony turned to face James fully, still keeping himself between his love and his son as he reached behind him to grab the kid's arm in reassurance. He felt Harry's other hand rest against his back as he probably looked around him at the scene. After the initial blast of energy, he and Harry seemed to be … shielded, maybe, generally unaffected by the angry magic wreaking havoc throughout the rest of the room, but Tony wasn't taking any chances.

The forceful, invisible pushing in the air was still building, and even Steve had trouble staying upright as Loki's anger took form and lashed out at the world around him. Tony was bracing for the next eruption when heard Harry speaking urgently behind him.

"He's gonna hurt someone, we have to stop him."

Tony agreed, but he felt helpless (which was a shitty feeling, because he was Tony freaking Stark, damn it - helpless should not be in his vocabulary). “I don’t know what we can do, kid. I’m not letting you go near him right now, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

The picture frames on the walls and the tacky figurines on the bookshelf and mantle piece had started to rattle now, some of them dropping to shatter on the floor. All the rest of them, except Tony and Harry, had now been knocked down and everyone outside their relatively calm bubble had their hands over their heads to protect themselves from falling debris.

Tony was at a loss for what to do until Natasha struggled to pull herself close enough to be heard by James, presumably trying to stop him before he completely lost control. She had to shout over the noise in the small space.

“Get yourself together, Loki! Harry doesn’t need you to go on a rampage, he needs you to show him that not everyone in his life will turn to violence and vengeance when they should be taking care of him! If you keep this up, you’ll be just like the rest of them!”

James’ head shot up when she said that, eyes frantic when they locked onto Tony shielding Harry from him. The pressure in the room rose just a bit higher, though Tony guessed it wasn’t in anger as he looked at James’ clear distress at Nat’s accusation. Tony wasn’t fast enough to stop Harry from ducking under his arm and taking a step toward James. 

"Stop it, please!"

The words seemed to cut the strings holding Loki up as the raw magic in the air suddenly dissipated. James’ shoulders were hunched as the anger in his eyes was chased away by self loathing, grief, and despair. He let out a wrenched sob as he appeared almost instantly in front of Harry and pulled the kid into his arms like he would die if there was an inch between them. Even in his urgency, James handled their son gently, avoiding the injuries he’d mentioned and touching him like he was fragile and sacred. Harry seemed to release his own tension in relief.

As Tony let out a calming breath (this day was too fucking much, didn’t these people know he had a heart condition?), Harry let himself be held, tucking his head under James' chin and wrapping his arms around the man's waist. The boy was petting James' back with one hand as the elder trembled like he was holding back an avalanche of sorrow (Tony couldn’t believe that he had fathered such a selfless kid, they had just heard all the torment he had suffered and he was comforting them). James’ arms stayed firmly around the kid’s shoulders as he offered one tearful promise.

"I'm so sorry, Harry darling. I will never let them hurt you again."

Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment, pausing in his soothing hand strokes before he took a deep breath and spoke, letting out a slightly unsteady response that had an underlying foundation of steel resolution and forgiveness.

"… I believe you."

Loki had thought that his emotions had already been stretched to their limits today; he’d been repeatedly shoved to either end of his emotional spectrum as he experienced a strange duality, feeling the most intense pain and the most extreme joy he’d ever known in his two thousand years of life. He believed that things couldn't get any more intense than they already had. Surely, nothing could push him further today.

Hearing Harry describe the ways he'd been tormented throughout his life showed Loki how much lower he could fall.

Hearing him say he believed Loki would keep him safe proved how much higher he could fly.

Loki normally prided himself on control and had been immediately horrified when Natasha told him he was just like the ones who hurt Harry. She was right; how could Loki unleash his anger like that in front of his strong, brave son, who had seen more violence than any child ever should?

It was a testament to his little serpent's good heart that he had already forgiven Loki. The father would do anything to keep the unearned but cherished trust Harry placed in him when he said he believed Loki's oath to protect him. He wouldn't fail his child again.

So he tucked the rage away. Harry would not have to bear witness to it, but Loki swore that he would keep his wrath saved for those who'd actually earned it.

Like Voldemort, Dumbledore had signed his death warrant the instant he touched Loki's son.

It took everything in him to pull back from Harry, resting his hands on his shoulders so he could see his eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t think I can manage viewing the final memory today. Do you think we can wait a few days and watch it together later?”

Harry looked almost relieved, and Loki worriedly noted the way exhaustion clung to the boy. “Yeah, I think we’ve all had enough life altering revelations for the day. Unless you’ve got another secret parent tucked away for me somewhere?”

Tony snorted as Harry gave a cheeky smile. It was a bit guarded, but Loki knew that it would take some time for Harry to feel fully comfortable with him, especially after the way he was treated throughout his childhood. He was just thrilled to see the mischief Harry had already shown as a toddler had survived this wretched house.

Loki took a deep breath. He knew this part would be a challenge, but if he waited another minute he might break. “I’d love to get out of this norns-forsaken suburb, but before we leave, would you allow us to sit down and see to your injuries?”

As Loki expected, Harry stiffened. He started to shake his head, quick and sharp, until Loki stopped him by resting a gentle hand on his unbruised cheek. 

“Harry darling, I know you must feel vulnerable and drained right now, but Tony and I can’t bear the thought of you in pain.”

Tony immediately nodded as he stepped up beside him, rubbing a hand on Harry’s arm gently. He seemed a bit awkward when trying to be comforting, but he smiled genuinely at their son and didn’t hesitate to offer whatever he could even if it was new territory for him. Loki had known the man would be a good father if he gave himself a chance, and he was so proud of him for jumping in with both feet today. He hoped his lover could forgive him someday for denying both of them so many years of their child's life.

Tony added his assurance. “It would make us both feel a lot better if we could help you, piccolo.”

Harry looked between them warily, brow wrinkled in confusion that Loki despised; every child should understand a parents desire to see them safe and healthy.

His son took a breath and looked into Loki's eyes, clearly weighing his reaction. “Will you be able to stay calm if you see them?”

It was a fair question, given what Harry had just witnessed from him, but it still felt like a punch to the stomach. Even so, Loki kept his expression soft, if a bit more regretful.

“Yes, little one, I'll remain calm." Harry blushed slightly at the endearment, but he lost none of his discerning focus as Loki continued. "I’m not sorry for being furious at how you have been treated, but Miss Romanov was right. You don’t need my anger right now, and I'm sorry for losing control like I did. You need my support and care, and am delighted to provide that if you’ll allow me.”

Harry looked a bit surprised by the words (which made that shattered glass feeling in Loki's chest come back again), but after studying Loki's face he seemed to believe him. Loki counted the small, shy smile Harry tried to hide as a small victory. It would take time, but he'd teach Harry that he and Tony could be trusted.

Loki glanced over at Bruce, who obviously understood the unvoiced request as he nodded and once again ushered everyone out of the room. Remus stayed behind at Harry’s request. Loki noticed Thor silently remaining as well; meeting his eyes, Loki saw that the lumbering man's expression held concern and sorrow, but also a well of delight that bloomed when his brother’s gaze shifted to his son. The unconditional love that Thor had always offered Loki, even when they struggled to maintain their closeness as brothers, was now being extended to the most important thing in his universe, and the thought warmed Loki more than he would likely ever admit. He was grateful to see how invested Thor already was in Harry. Besides, Loki would need every ally he could get to make his son safe again.

Harry noticed Thor staying behind as well, and when he saw he’d been spotted the god gave one of his exuberant grins, walking over to stand by the group.

“Harry, you have fought many incredible battles for one who is still almost a babe! I hope to be allowed to stay beside you now as you are healed, hearing of your adventures and celebrating your victories as all heroes deserve.”

Harry’s face screwed up a bit at that and he opened his mouth as if to retort, but stopped short as he seemed to take in Thor’s expression. Where Loki had always protected his emotions and thoughts viciously, Thor was an open book. It was easy right now to read the eagerness, hope, and gentle affection in Thor’s gaze as he held Harry’s eyes. Loki knew how inexplicably persuasive those looks could be, and so he wasn’t surprised when Harry let out a breath a minute later and gave a weary sort of nod for Thor to sit down.

They all settled on the bland furniture. The pensieve was put back into Remus’ bag (Tony still looked like a kid at Christmas when he watched the space bending phenomenon of the too small pouch containing the large basin) before Harry was seated on the coffee table to give the best access to his injuries. Loki and Tony sat on the couch with Harry facing away from them so when he lifted his shirt Loki would be able to treat his back. Remus sat on the couch across from him, offering a strained but honest smile of reassurance.

Once Thor had settled by Remus, knee touching Harry’s, his son looked over his shoulder with a wary glance at the two men behind him. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Loki hoped his expression showed his determination to help without letting the crushing guilt and anger shine through. He replied with a simple “of course, Harry.” When Tony nodded beside him, Harry held their gaze, then after a moment visibly steeled himself with a decisive little head dip of his own.

Harry pulled his shirt over his head.

No one had ever seen Harry's back except for Ron. It had been an accident, and it only happened once when he stayed at the Burrow before second year. He'd been lucky; there had only been two lash marks that he explained away by saying he fell and scraped his back on the snapped branch of a bush back in Surrey, and Ron had been too far away to see the older scars. Harry was sure, however, that his friend caught the lie after everything he’d seen when they rescued him that year, even if Ron never pushed him about it. He just always made sure Harry had access to some healing salves and bandages when he finally got to leave that place each year, and Harry hadn’t been able to admit how much the silent support meant to him.

He couldn’t imagine where he’d be if Ron hadn’t found him on the train in first year.

This was only relevant insofar as Harry used it to explain his currently rising anxiety. He was no stranger to scars, and had no strong emotional ties to the majority of them one way or another, but some of them felt shameful. So, he kept them hidden.

The lash marks on his back, collected and layered over several years, were the worst ones. Harry knew that the way he was treated at home wasn't right. He'd known it since the first time he'd accompanied Aunt Petunia to the store when he was four and a lady had looked horrified when she grabbed him around his upper arm and dragged him over to swat his bottom for not keeping up (he could hardly be blamed though; at that particular time, it had been almost two days since he had eaten and he was tired). Still, knowing he wasn't in the wrong and feeling like he had nothing to be ashamed of were two different things entirely. Harry had almost never resisted his punishments, since it just ended in more pain for him, and he had always had a creeping suspicion that if he had just fought harder, been stronger, he could have protected himself from those marks.

It got worse after Harry joined the wizarding world. His yearly escapades proved that he was able to defend himself and others. So if that was true, why did he let his horrible uncle keep beating him?

He internally scoffed again at Thor’s comment. Him, a hero? How could he get that from everything Harry just accidentally shared (and what a fuck up that was, huh Potter)? He wasn’t a hero, he was a pawn, and a bit of a disappointing one considering all the people he’d failed to save. But Thor’s face was so freaking open and hopeful that Harry didn’t have the heart to call him out on the lie.

Harry knew intellectually that the self-blaming thing was just some unsupportable logic born from a load of trauma. He'd pulled a Hermione sometime in third year and researched childhood abuse, and he knew that the conditioning you get as a kid is the hardest to break; it made sense that Harry had such an instinctual fear of the man who had reveled in hurting him. (It also helped explain his lack of self preservation instincts, since he had been taught that he was an expendable burden from the tender age of one, but that was another issue all together.) Still, it felt like Harry was to blame for all the scars on his body, like if he’d only been better then there would be less of them.

All these things seemed to fly through Harry's head before he scolded himself for being a coward and pulled his shirt over his head. He tried to block out those thoughts, focusing on finding patterns in the sofa fabric so he wouldn't have to face this moment (something he, coincidentally, learned to do when standing with his hands on the wall waiting for the next crack of leather and line of fire), but he gave this up as a bad job after after about thirty seconds of unbearable silence. He started to fidget in quickly mounting anxiety, and when he finally broke he glanced over his shoulder, avoiding the gaze of Remus or Thor, to see Tony and James' faces. 

Both looked like they had quickly rearranged their expressions, meeting his eyes with smiles that clearly sought to comfort. Harry could see behind that, though. The tightness around their eyes, the tension in their shoulders, the way Tony’s nails had dug into James’ arm - all of it showed that they were very upset by the sight in front of them.

If Harry was logical, all of their behavior so far would indicate that their current turmoil was because they wished Harry hadn’t been hurt, and were … sad? guilty? when they saw the scars. Hell, they could probably guess that there were an exponentially greater amount of injuries that didn't leave permanent marks, which wouldn't help whatever they were feeling. They were his … parents, and Harry theoretically knew parents felt protective of their kids and worried when they were in pain. That would even make sense given everything he’d seen and heard today, and the sense of safety he felt when he was near them (which Harry found unnerving, because why was he beginning to trust them so quickly?).

But despite all his rational assurances, they are still essentially strangers to him. So he couldn't shake his fear that the tension lying under their calm, soothing smiles was there because they were disgusted or disappointed.

Harry gave his best attempt at maintaining a strong facade, though he was sure that the vulnerable state he was in and his overall exhaustion were conspiring against him. He saw both James and Tony’s eyes widen in panic and slight horror as Harry’s traitorous eyes misted over, even if he looked down and cleared his throat to hide it. Surprisingly though, Thor broke the silence before they could. 

“Nephew, when did you receive this mark? I imagine it has quite the tale, and we would love to hear your battle stories as Loki tends to you.”

Now, Harry knew a distraction when he heard one, and usually he thought those sort of attempts to calm him were rather patronizing, but there was something in Thor's voice that made him turn around to look at where Thor was gesturing. It was the three inch round scar just above his right elbow, where the basilisk fang had pierced clean through to the other side of his admittedly skinny arm.

Gazing into Thor’s expression once again, Harry considered it. This scar was actually one of his favorites; even though he knew Dumbledore had set him on the path to face the monster, he was proud of how he’d been able to protect the school and save Ginny. He should have done it faster, of course, and it was really Fawkes who did the heavy lifting, but generally the basilisk scar was something he looked to in his darker moments to remind himself that some things were better because he was here.

Thor was pretty shit at hiding his emotions (Ron was the same, totally open book), so Harry could clearly see the sorrow in his eyes when he looked at the scar, but the excitement he was projecting still seemed … genuine. Harry had never had anyone to tell his adventures to, because his two closest friends had always been right in the thick of it with him and he didn’t trust anyone else enough to share with them, so he'd mostly kept things to himself. Now, though, he looked over his shoulder to see what James and Tony thought as he felt a surprising amount of his own excitement. Not enough to overcome the exhaustion or the anxiety, just a spark really, but one he thought he might indulge. This was family after all (what a mindfuck that was), and he should give it the best shot he could.

“It’s a bit of a long story.”

Loki’s strained smile gained a lot of longing, even if it also gained a bit more anxiety. “We’d love to hear it, Harry. We want to know everything you’re willing to share.”

Tony nodded too. “Go for it, kid.” He gave a wink that almost hid his own worry. “We could use some entertainment while Loki’s fussing.”

Loki scowled half-heartedly at the man, but Harry snorted and gave a nod, grateful for the attempt at nonchalance even if they all knew that everyone was stretched to the max.

So, he told them. He started with Dobby’s visit and the resulting jailbreak, then the flying car and landing in the Willow (Thor guffawed at the idea of a tree that beat up anyone who came near it). He told them about hearing the strange voice and the message on the wall, the dueling club and finding out he was a parseltongue (both Loki and Thor were delighted), and being ostracized by the whole school except for Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George. Finding the diary and talking with Tom, the continuing attacks that led to Hermione being petrified, the arrest of Hagrid, following the spiders and then fleeing for their lives (Tony was twitching here, both in fear and obvious desperation to see a car that thought for itself). He explained finding the page in Hermione’s hand and identifying the monster, Ginny being taken and confronting Lockhart when he tried to flee. Then descending into the legendary chamber, finding a dying Ginny and a young Voldemort growing in strength. Harry got more energized describing Fawkes arrival and his fight with the basilisk, which Thor encouraged him to recount blow by blow (the man gasped and cheered in all the right places). Harry finished with Fawkes healing him after he had stabbed the diary, banishing Voldemort once again, and guiding his friends back to the surface.

Harry didn’t realize how animated he had gotten throughout the story, but Thor was such a perfect audience and the others hid their horror and followed his lead enough that it was easy to get into the moment. He barely felt Loki’s gentle magic as it erased his mostly healed lashes, faded away the mark on his jaw, and soothed his (admittedly rather uncomfortable) bruised ribs. Harry was just so grateful to have someone to tell, really. He never thought he was missing anything in that regard, but the clear pride on all four adults' faces, even mixed with the panic and pain, bolstered him in a way he never knew he craved.

It felt almost dangerous, setting himself up to be let down again, but Harry didn’t think he could fight the connection they were building. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. 

None of that meant that Harry waited a single second after Loki finished to whip his shirt back on. His earlier anxieties came back to him as he stood, stepping away so he could face all of them at once. He tried and failed again to mask his nervousness even if there really wasn’t any reason to.

"Um, thank you for, uh, that." Harry cleared his throat, trying to get his shit together enough to make a proper sentence. "You said we were leaving? Because it'd be great to get out of this hellhole."

Tony brightened a bit, clapping his hands together as he turned to the others. They all stood, and Harry figured he wasn't the only one ready to leave.

"Kid's right, let's get the hell out of Stepford. Me and the munchkin over here are gonna go pack up his things," Tony said. Harry gave a soft, indignant "hey!" At the words that had Tony throwing a purposefully light, mirthful grin his way. "You guys can get the team together and ready to head home, right?"

The others nodded, clearly trying to stave off the heavy atmosphere they all felt waiting to claim them if they thought too hard about what had transpired that day. Tony and Harry went to leave, moving quickly toward the door. When they passed by, James rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. He stopped to look at the man, and saw the soft expression James wore when leaned down to place a kiss on Harry's forehead. It made him feel a bit off balance, but not in a bad way.

"I'll see you in a moment, alright?"

Harry nodded. James looked like he had wanted to say more, but right now Harry didn't have the energy for another breakdown or heart to heart. He was fighting the numbness again, his brain trying to protect himself from the overwhelming emotional marathon that the day had been.

He really was ready to leave this place.