“For a genius, you’re bloody daft.”
Tony put all his thrusters and booster levels into his heels as he flew directly out the window of his laboratory and toward where JARVIS had Harry’s location pulled up on his screen.
JARVIS was also sending Tony all street video coverage of the alleyway Harry was in, but so far it was spotty at best. Whatever thugs cornered his kid had probably done it before, they found a nice and remote place to do it.
This was ‘oh have you heard about your kid being tortured for detention’ all over again. Except now it was some random good samaritan calling Tony and telling him his son had been beaten up in a mugging in the city. And what the hell Harry was doing, wandering the city alone, was anyone’s guess. But Tony figured that was a discussion for another time as he flew just above the buildings and zeroed in on the alley where Harry’s location was pinging.
“Mister Stark, there is a person on the nearby roof,” JARVIS informed Tony as he shot toward the ground.
“Don’t care,” Tony snapped, focusing only on finding his son. “Where the hell… god damnit,” Tony swore heatedly, recognizing the slumped body midway through the alley.
Tony landed quickly and retracted his face shield as he knelt on one knee in front of his son who looked to be out cold, curled over his softly whining dog with his face hidden.
“Harry? Kid?” Tony felt frantic as he pulled back his gloves to grab Harry’s shoulder. “Harry!”
“Hmm?” Harry lifted his face and Tony let out a noise between a scream and whimper. Harry’s lip was busted and bleeding, his jaw shaded with a dark bruise, and his eyes were glassy and unfixed with pinpoint pupils.
“Oh, hi,” Harry said in an airy and raspy way that Tony didn’t like at all.
Tony lightly cupped Harry’s cheek and tilted his face upward to try and gauge just how messed up he was.
“Hi,” Tony said, fighting to sound calm and perfectly level. “What do you say we get you to a doctor?”
“Mm, a vet,” Harry said slowly. “Joey’s hurt.”
“Joey?”
“Arsehole, except don’t call him that.”
Tony glanced down at the dog in Harry’s lap and saw that he looked nearly as put out as Harry did. Why someone would mug a kid and beat up their dog, Tony had no idea. The blood on the dog’s muzzle made Tony hope he’d gotten a good bite of whoever dared touch his son though.
“Okay,” Tony agreed with Harry, “I’m going to pick you and Joey up and we’re going to get home now.”
Harry rolled his head back and closed his eyes.
“I don’t have a home,” he said thickly. “Everything’s fucking ruined.”
Tony couldn’t even process that slurred statement as he reached out carefully and pulled Harry in his arms. As soon as Tony jostled his side, there was a sickening crunch of what sounded like a cracked bone, and Harry’s eyes rolled back in his head before he went completely limp.
Someone was going to pay in blood for that.
“God DAMNIT!” Tony yelled. He tried to be gentle and quick, but the increasing whines of the frantic dog were doing nothing but increasing Tony’s blood pressure. “JARVIS, wake Bruce up, tell him to meet me in his exam room. Open the windows too, I’m flying in.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tony locked his arms around Harry and his dog and shot upward in the sky.
Jesus Christ.
While Tony had been in his lab, having a pity party, his kid was getting his ass kicked by some pricks that were going to regret even looking at Harry when Tony found them.
Tony was going to rip their miserable heads from their bodies and use them for target practice.
The night was quiet aside from Tony’s own furious breathing and the dog’s frantic pants. Apparently ‘Joey’ wasn’t a fan of flying. Which sucked for him because Tony wasn’t a fan of wasting time when his son needed medical attention.
Bruce was already in his lab/exam room when Tony shot through the windows.
“Put him here,” Bruce ordered him, indicating a recently made exam bed. “What happened?”
“Mugging,” Tony said shortly as he placed Harry on one bed and his dog on the other. “JARVIS, full scan on both of them.”
Bruce waved his hand, pulling up an electronic screen while JARVIS ran a blue light over Harry and the dog both.
“Contusions, abrasions, one fractured rib, and a moderate concussion,” Bruce murmured, reading Harry’s results. “And two broken ribs in the dog.”
Tony wasn’t technically heartless, but he didn’t really give a damn about the dog.
“What’s this?” Tony asked with a furrowed brow. He drew a finger across an unexpected result. “Infection? Harry’s not sick.”
Bruce hummed and squinted at the screen before he pulled his glasses from his shirt pocket and pushed them up on his nose.
“Not that kind of infection.” He grabbed Harry’s left hand and slowly unrolled the white bandage that covered the cuts Tony knew it hid.
“Here it is,” Bruce said. He held Harry’s limp hand up and Tony saw the red and swollen skin. “It’s a minor infection, Tony, I’ll get him on antibiotics.”
Tony jerked his chin in a nod and tried to pretend like he wasn’t seething. His son didn’t even heal properly from the last time someone hurt him before it happened again.
Was it any wonder that Tony wanted to wrap the world in a shield so safe that his kid never had to be hurt again?!
“Something for the pain too,” Tony told Bruce when he went to grab a bag from their stocked cabinet of medication.
Bruce’s hand hesitated over the vials of medication and he glanced at Tony over his shoulder.
“Narcotics and concussions don’t go together great,” he said with a pitying look.
Tony grabbed a silver test tube rack and threw it at the wall, desperate to vent his fear and rage any way he could.
“I DON’T GIVE A DAMN!” he yelled at Bruce. Harry was pale and sweaty just from where Tony could see, and he was sure his ribs and hips were in rough shape if the result of his scan was any indicator. And since it was a perfect read, Tony knew it was the only opinion that counted. “HARRY IS IN PAIN, FIX IT OR GET THE FUCK OUT!”
Bruce, who was long since used to Tony’s fits, sighed and snatched a vial of morphine to go with the penicillin.
“Fine, when he’s high as a kite, don’t complain to me,” Bruce muttered. “Hand me the IV kit.”
Tony complied quickly while he switched his suit off, tossing it to the side.
“Hold his arm,” Bruce said after grabbing a needle from the kit. “Don’t let him move, his veins are small.”
While Tony held Harry’s arm and Bruce quickly inserted the IV needle, Harry’s eyelids fluttered.
“Hey, don’t move,” Tony told Harry while Bruce’s quick hands set up the IV drip. He let go of Harry’s arm and carefully brushed his messy dark hair from his face, cringing at his clammy skin. “How you feeling, kid?”
Harry’s eyes didn’t fully open, but he did turn to look at Tony with a little pucker between his brows.
“Fine,” he said, still sounding as drunk as Clint did after his last concussion. “What’re you doing here? Where’s Siri?”
Tony winced, but it was fair. He’d been thinking it all day that Harry would want Sirius- why wouldn’t he? Sirius and Harry had years more time together, years more history together, a million things more in common.
Blood didn’t make a family, who knew that more than Tony?
“You want me to get him?” Tony offered. He kept his hand on Harry’s face and didn’t know if it was a good sign of progress that Harry didn’t push him away or a bad sign of him being completely out of it.
“No.” Harry blinked heavily and Tony checked the fluids drop in his IV. Harry lifted his hand and touched Tony’s hair before pulling his hand back and dropping it on the bed. “Why’re you here?”
“I told you he’d be high,” Bruce told Tony in an irritating know it all tone. Tony only liked it when he used that tone. He rolled his eyes at Bruce, who was taping up the dog, then looked down where his kid looked genuinely curious.
“I…”
What the fuck was he supposed to say? Why wouldn’t he be there if Harry was hurt? He wasn’t Howard, sending his assistant just to jump his ass over it. Tony liked to think he was a better parent than his dad had been.
He sent a furtive look at Bruce, but Bruce was steadily pretending to not notice the awkward conversation happening. Kind of him, really.
“You’re hurt,” Tony said, bewildered. “You got hurt, did you think I wouldn’t want to be here with you?”
Harry looked so vulnerable, so completely guileless, that Tony could see the answer in his eyes before he even opened his mouth.
Tony sighed and sank to his knees beside Harry’s bed.
“I want to be here,” Tony said plainly. His stomach did an uncountable twist when Harry’s green eyes suddenly looked wet.
“Hey, are you in pain? Bruce! Did you give him pain medicine or not?” Tony yelled, turning to glare accusingly at his friend.
“I’m fine,” Harry said quietly before Bruce could even respond. Tony felt more than useless as a little tear trickled out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t look like he was hurting, but Tony suspected he had a higher pain tolerance than Tony had at his age.
“I’m sorry,” Harry added.
Tony’s brows climbed his forehead and he kept up what he hoped was a soothing motion of brushing Harry’s hair off his face.
“For what?” Tony asked. He thought maybe Harry was apologizing for walking around New York alone, or for forgetting to have JARVIS alert Tony the moment he ran into trouble, or for anything rational. But what Harry said was not rational, or logical, and Tony had no idea how he was meant to deal with it.
“You’re disappointed, right?” Harry asked. He turned his head up to the ceiling and blinked heavily at it. “I’m not the son you wanted.”
“Well I’m so fucking sorry I’m not the son you wanted! I’m just a big disappointment, right? Come on, mom’s still young enough, you’ve got time to try again!”
“You will watch your mouth in my home, Anthony!”
“I don’t fucking care about my language, Howard!”
Tony sat back on his heels and stared at Harry, speechless.
How was he reliving his childhood with his own son?
This whole time Tony had been patting himself on the back, telling himself he was doing so much better than his dad had, and Harry thought Tony was disappointed in him?
Tony looked around quickly, secretly hoping Bruce would step forward with the right words to say, but he disappeared at some point. The dog blinked at Tony slowly, his big puppy eyes demanding Tony answer his owner.
But when Tony turned back to Harry, his eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell in an even motion.
Tony had pulled up a chair and listened to the steady beeping of Harry’s vitals while he closed his own eyes and let his mind drift.
There were approximately seven billion questions on his mind and no answers in sight; the worst frustration for any man.
Why didn’t Harry want Sirius? Did he not want him to see him all banged up? Did they have a disagreement? Was that why Harry was out walking the streets by himself?
Who attacked Harry? Who called Tony? Why didn’t they wait with Harry until Tony got there? Granted, it took him less than four minutes to arrive, but still. Did they want no recognition for helping him? They’d refused to give Tony a name on the phone, merely stating that they were ‘taking care of the problem’ but that he should ‘come get Harry because he’s all fucked up’.
There were questions about Ultron and Darth Vader and the bitch in pink, but Tony wasn’t really fixating on that.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re disappointed, right?”
“I’m not the son you wanted.”
He definitely wasn’t a son Tony expected, but damn if he didn’t love him anyway.
It was a tight pain in Tony’s chest that Harry thought of Tony the same way Tony had thought of Howard. Some cycles were best left broken.
After a couple hours of Harry sleeping soundly, the morphine coursing through his veins, the lab door opened and Tony peeked through one eye to see Sirius sliding in.
“Oi, what the fuck happened?” Sirius hissed as he approached the bed. His eyes were wide and he still wore his pajamas. Bruce had probably gotten him, which was irritating as hell.
“Mugging,” Tony said tightly. He eyed Sirius subtly while Sirius studied Harry’s face and the IV hooked up to his arm.
Sirius was… well… he even stood like Harry did. They both had a tendency to stand on the heels of their feet, rocking backwards just slightly. Sirius had one hand fluttering out toward Harry’s feet that were bare after Tony struggled to undress the kid and redress him in a gown. Sirius’ other hand was on his right thigh, tapping his fingers the same way Harry did when he was agitated.
“And you didn’t call me?” Sirius demanded quietly. He glared and Tony and the sarcastic way he twisted his lips to the side and furrowed his brows were also expressions Harry mimicked.
Forget the Avengers, Sirius Black was obviously Harry’s personal hero.
“I should have,” Tony admitted. He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back. His eyes skipped away from Sirius’ and landed on Harry’s soft face. “I offered, he said no.”
Sirius pulled his dark wand from his pocket and held it up with a mocking expression.
“So you’d rather Harry suffer instead of just having me heal him?” Sirius scoffed. “Petty isn’t your color, mate.”
Tony was left speechless as Sirius went to work healing Harry’s bruises and lacerations. He…
Had he forgotten that Sirius could instantly heal Harry because magic was still so utterly mind boggling or did he intentionally not think of it because it was just another way that Sirius beat Tony in Harry’s life?
The first made him human, the second made him a monster.
“Mind taking whatever this is out?” Sirius asked, gesturing to the IV hookup.
Tony got up, resigning himself to helping however he could, and gently removed the lines from Harry’s arm and twisted them around the pole.
“His rib is broken,” Tony told Sirius flatly, pointing toward the rib instead of touching it. “The dog too.”
Sirius turned and made a sympathetic face at the dog.
“Poor Joey,” he said quietly. He tapped Harry’s side with his wand and Tony heard the bone snap in place and Harry hiss out a sharp breath just before he went back to sleeping. This time, without the creases between his eyes.
“Figures that you’d know the dog is called Joey, apparently,” Tony said bitterly as he took his seat beside his kid once more.
Sirius was running his wand over the top of the dog and only paused long enough to give Tony a look.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh nothing,” Tony said with a bit of unchecked bite to his tone. “I didn’t know the dog had a name besides Asshole, but you did. Just like you got told all about Harry’s life and you are the one he called about his teacher and YOU ARE THE PARENT HE WANTS!”
Sirius stood beside the probably perfectly healed dog and watched as Tony ranted at him. He raised an unimpressed dark brow when Tony finished and looked down at his lap while his chest heaved with the fucking unfairness of his son being so difficult to win over because he had an adult he loved already.
And it certainly wasn’t Tony.
“All done there?” Sirius scoffed. “For a genius, you’re bloody daft, aren’t you?”
Tony snapped his head up and opened his mouth to argue, but Sirius cut him off.
“Harry loves you,” Sirius told him. He hopped back on the bed with the dog and let it drop its head on his lap so he could pet it while he spoke. “But—”
Tony flattened his lips in an unhappy line. There was always a but. ‘Harry loves you, BUT he loves Sirius more’. ‘Harry loves you, BUT he also hates you’.
“—Harry doesn’t know how to express love like a normal person.”
“What?” Tony shook his head and tried to shoo away his own thoughts so that he could take in what Sirius was saying with his solemn expression and pitying eyes.
“Harry told you he loves me?” Tony asked, sounding as hopeful as a kid. He thought - before Hogwarts, before Ultron, before Sirius - that Harry at least liked him, but… but Tony would rather have his son’s love.
Sirius’ eyes went soft and he shook his head at Tony. “Of course he didn’t say it like that, he said he wanted to earn your love. And why would he do that if he didn’t love you?”
Tony leaned his chair back and looked away from Sirius so he could study the face of the kid that looked so much like him.
“You’re disappointed, right? I’m not the son you wanted.”
“He’s so much like me…” Tony said softly to himself as he reached out and stroked Harry’s hair. Of course Tony’s kid would see parental love as something that he had to work toward, to earn. Tony hadn’t achieved it when he’d been a kid, and he didn’t know it wasn’t a thing to be achieved until he’d gotten Harry.
Harry taught Tony that some parents just loved their kid no matter what; which meant that Tony apparently needed to teach it to Harry.
“Poor bastard,” Sirius snorted. “What’d you think? That he didn’t want you anymore now that I’m here?”
Tony said nothing, which only prompted Sirius to snort again.
“Peas in a pod,” he quipped brightly. “Look, mate, I’m about as terrible with the whole relationship bit as the rest of you obviously are, but Harry’s easy, alright? Just tell him you love him, tell him he doesn’t have to fight Voldemort for you to be proud of him, and for the love of God get yourselves in therapy and sort yourselves out.”
Tony rolled his eyes when Sirius sauntered out of the lab, whistling a jaunty tune.
It wasn’t that he was wrong, it was that Tony wasn’t used to everyone else knowing more than he did.
Tony had managed to sleep a couple hours before Harry began tossing and turning on his bed, waking up in a flurry.
“Hey, hey, you’re fine,” Tony said quickly, yanking his hand away from Harry’s head where it had been resting. “You’re in Bruce’s lab.”
Harry sat up, ignoring Tony’s half-hearted request that he stay laying down, and blinked around the room filled with equipment and various experiments Bruce had been working on. His eyes were frantic as they flicked around, not resting until they landed on the dog.
“Joey,” Harry breathed. The dog yipped and did a spectacular leap from its bed to Harry’s, landing in his lap where it immediately began licking Harry’s face.
Tony watched and felt ashamed at the envy he felt at the easy way Harry related more to a dog than he did Tony. If Sirius was right and Harry did love Tony, surely Tony would sense it somehow.
“What happened?” Harry asked, finally pushing the dog away to blink at Tony. He scowled and pinched the green hospital gown he wore irritably. “I don’t think I had this in my dresser.”
Tony grinned crookedly and relaxed in his seat. If Harry was up for being a smartass again, then Sirius must have done a hell of a job healing him. His face didn’t look any worse for the wear, anyway, it was free of the marks that had covered it and only the dirt remained proof that someone had gone after him.
“You had a nasty concussion, I’m not surprised you don’t remember,” Tony said. “What’s the last thing you do remember?”
Harry’s lips twisted to the side and he furrowed his brows together in concentration.
“Er… I went for a walk… and then…” Harry’s eyes unfocused then focused on Tony and his face darkened. “How’d I get here?”
Tony rolled his neck, working out the kink and stalling just a smidge.
“You got in a fight,” Tony hedged, giving the kid the benefit of the doubt. “Someone used your phone—”
“The red skinned bloke!” Harry said abruptly.
Tony raised a skeptical brow at his son. Sure, New York had all sorts of weirdos wandering around, but a guy with red skin seemed more likely to be a figment of a concussion.
“I don’t know,” Tony admitted. “Someone called me and said you needed help so I brought you back here and Sirius healed you.”
It burnt like acid on his tongue to admit that Sirius had been the one to save the day - again - but Tony wasn’t going to lie to Harry either.
“Oh.” Harry nodded and then began twisting his fingers in the blanket that covered his legs. “Er… where’s Sirius at now?”
Tony was proud that he kept his face perfectly impassive when he answered.
“Upstairs, do you want me to call him?”
Harry squinted at Tony, a cloud of confusion in his green eyes.
“Don’t you want to?” Harry turned the question back on him, confusing Tony now.
Why did it always feel like they were speaking two different languages?
Tony ran a hand through his hair again, feeling frustrated at the damned barrier that seemed to linger between him and his son.
“Look, plain English here, I don’t want Sirius here right now, but if you do then I’ll call him,” Tony told Harry bluntly. “So do you?”
Harry leaned back against the pillows piled up at the head of his bed and gave Tony a heavy look as he stared directly in his eyes, searching for something that Tony couldn’t begin to guess at.
“No,” Harry said softly, his usual sarcasm gone. “I’d rather have you here.”
“Alright then.” Tony smiled and felt a little weight shift off his chest. “I suppose I’ll stay.”