“Congrats, Harry, you’re growing up.”
Saturday, January 13
When Hermione answered the phone, she looked frantic and exhausted and a little crazy… which meant she was probably in the library.
“Harry, it is seven in the morning in New York,” Hermione scowled in the phone immediately. Her hair was a bushy, tangled, mess, and it made Harry grin to watch her tug on a lock of it.
“Why are you awake?” Hermione asked.
Harry smoothed his smile to something innocent and he shrugged his shoulders up.
“I’m taking Joey for a walk before I go to the VA,” Harry said airily. He waited for Hermione to pick up on what he said.
“It’s cold outside,” Hermione snapped. “You’ll get sick.”
Hermione must have been truly studying something terribly important for her to miss what Harry said.
“Joey wanted to go for a walk,” Harry repeated. Joey was actually being a good dog for their first walk together since the first of November. Harry had been worried that Joey would yank and pull on the leash, which would cause Harry to stumble, fall, and possibly break his fake leg.
Tony said Harry couldn’t break the leg, but if anyone could accidentally break an indestructible leg- it would be Harry.
But Joey was being perfect. He didn’t pull on the leash or chase after birds. He stayed right by Harry’s side and let Harry set the pace for them. Joey was even smart enough to bark when a rock on the sidewalk or a step approached, which gave Harry plenty of time to prepare.
It was awkward, walking with a fake leg. It made Harry’s stump uncomfortable and he knew he wouldn’t manage their usual lengthy walk, but it was still a walk.
Hermione still didn’t seem to understand what Harry was saying and he huffed, annoyed that his dramatic declaration was being ignored for OWLS.
“Hermione.” Harry stared dead at the phone until Hermione gave him her complete attention. “I am taking my dog for a walk.”
Hermione blinked at Harry and he could see the gears in her eyes shifting from OWLS to Harry’s news. It took her nearly an entire minute and then she screamed so loud that Harry could hear Madam Pince in the background scolding her.
“YOU CAN WALK?!”
Harry grinned when the phone screen was a blurred mess and then a familiar and freckled nose pressed right up against the screen.
“Mate, you’re walking?!” Ron demanded. “How? When? Why didn’t you tell us?!”
“What do you think I’m doing right now?” Harry laughed. “I went ahead and got a prosthetic made. Well, I mean… my dad - er, Tony - he made it, but I asked him to. Oh, Happy actually said…”
Hermione had snatched the phone back from Ron and patiently listened to Harry’s nervous rambling for a minute. Harry didn’t know why he felt nervous, but Hermione’s eyes filling up with tears certainly didn’t help any.
“Don’t bloody cry,” Harry eventually sighed. “It’s fine. Look!” Harry turned screen so he could hold his left foot up and wiggle his shoe.
Which would have caused Harry to fall on his arse when the prosthetic twisted on his stump in an unfamiliar motion, but Joey saved him with a quick yank of the leash.
“Does it hurt?” Hermione asked when Harry turned the camera back to his face. “Everything I read said it can be terribly uncomfortable at first—”
“Nevermind that!” Ron cried from the background. “Ask him if it does anything cool?”
Hermione turned her head and scoffed at Ron who was out of Harry’s sight.
“Is walking not cool enough?” she demanded. “Does it need extra attachments to help our best friend walk? Hm?”
Harry nodded in innocent agreement with Hermione. And then, as soon as he made it back to the Tower, he hung up on her and text Ron.
It’s got taser toes. It’s like a jolt of electricity that shoots out if I press a button.
Brilliant!
Tony peppered Harry with as many questions as Hermione had on the drive to the VA.
“Does it still feel okay? Any soreness? Doctor Torres said you shouldn’t wear it for more than three or four hours a day at first, how many hours has it been on? Did the knee bend okay? How’s the rotation on the ankle?”
“It’s fine!” Harry all but shouted after ten minutes of questions. “Sorry, sorry.” He felt bad for shouting when Tony made the damn thing and was only trying to be nice. “It’s just… it’s fine, alright?” he said much more calmly.
Tony glanced over at Harry and had his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses so Harry couldn’t see if he was irritated or not.
“Will you tell me if there’s a problem with it?” he asked evenly.
Harry shrugged. “Suppose so.”
Even if that sounded like the most ungrateful way to show his appreciation for the ability to walk again.
“And you won’t wear it for more than three or four hours a day until the doctor clears you?”
Harry crossed his fingers under his right leg and nodded his head.
“Sure.”
When they arrived at the VA, Harry was again struck by the same pang in his chest as usual at the sight of the building.
If it hadn’t literally been part of Anderson’s last words to Harry, Harry might never have went to another meeting there.
Sitting in the building of the place where they held Anderson’s funeral? Seeing everyone and thinking of the one who was missing? It was a particularly cruel sort of agony.
It was also familiar though and Harry also felt more at ease around the others there. All of them made an effort to include Harry in their stories and jokes, and Harry even exchanged numbers with Greene and they were currently planning a ‘cripples field trip’.
Greene wanted to go play paintball, but Godwin shut that down at the last meeting.
“You trying to send us all to the psych ward, Greene?” she’d demanded. “The first p in PTSD stands for paintball, dumbass.”
Personally, Harry thought paintball sounded loads more fun than going to a museum, which had been Booker’s suggestion.
Harry wobbled some when he climbed out of the passenger seat of Tony’s car and Tony was quick to try and help steady him.
“I’m fine,” Harry said, brushing him off. Harry wanted to walk in on his own, just like the others did with their prosthetics.
Anderson told Harry to keep going to meetings and get a leg.
So Harry did.
Harry walked in the meeting room in the VA with Taylor Anderson’s dog tags tucked beneath his shirt and his chin held high.
“Holy shit.” Lawrence was the first one to notice Harry and he smacked Simmons until she turned to look as well.
“Am I late?” Harry asked. He beamed when the others stood up (except for Greene who needed work done on his prosthetics and was back in a wheelchair) and clapped and whistled.
“Baby Stark got a new leg!” Stokes cheered. He slapped Harry’s shoulder with his right hand, which was actually a bit painful considering that his hand was made of metal.
Harry dropped in a seat between Godwin and Greene and slapped at Greene when he prodded Harry’s left knee.
“Piss off,” Harry laughed.
“Give us a show, Baby Stark,” Lawrence said. He wiggled his black eye brows at Harry with a stupid grin. “Let’s see some fake skin.”
“He’s fifteen!” Tony yelled. Harry looked over his shoulder and saw that Tony had joined Sam by the coffee cart and watched Harry with a fond smile.
“Try not to be too jealous,” Harry warned them all. He pulled the leg of his jeans up so he could twist his leg out and show the group the shining metal.
“Fuck, bro.” Greene whistled lowly and reached out to touch the metal. “What the hell kind of material is this?”
Harry shrugged, “Metal?”
“No, this is metal.” Godwin leaned down so she could place one of her arms beside Harry’s leg. There was a difference, even Harry could see that. His leg looked like silky silver while Godwin’s arm was a dull gray.
“Er…” Harry looked over toward Tony again, but saw he was caught up in a conversation with Sam that involved a lot of arm movements.
“No idea,” Harry admitted. “Dad says it’s indestructible though.”
“That’s what they say about tanks, man,” Mendez said. “Then a bomb hits and— PEW!”
Harry blinked at Mendez.
“Mate, I think my chances of joining the military ended in a potato truck in Mexico,” he said dryly. “So I’m not too worried about bombs.”
“You should be,” Greene muttered. “The US is going to be bombed in the next ten years, bro. Just when we think we’re safe- boom!” Greene smacked the armrest of his wheelchair hard. “China blows our asses to bits.”
The others were quiet and exchanged worried looks that Harry wasn’t exempt from. There was a faraway look in Greene’s eyes and Harry wished they hadn’t brought up bombs.
“If they do it tomorrow then I won’t have to take a math test Monday,” Harry said.
It was stupid, Harry was just trying to push through the painfully awkward moment, but Greene looked over at Harry and had a faint smile on his lips.
“Better get those grades up or even the Marines won’t want you,” Simmons quipped, breaking the spell.
The others started laughing and exchanging barbs that Harry didn’t quite understand about different branches of the military. And as soon as Harry asked why Marines ate crayons, they took great pleasure in disparaging Harry of any idea of ever joining the Marines.
“Harry’s not joining the military,” Tony said when he joined mid-conversation. He leaned on the wall behind Jones and winked at Harry.
“I dunno, man, they’ll write waivers for prosthetics,” Mendez said. He smirked at Harry with a brow raised. “Think you could do it?”
Harry considered it for a moment.
It would probably come easy to Harry, fighting in a war if it was something he believed in.
Not that Harry had a particular opinion on American freedom as he was British, but still.
Harry could see himself in a uniform like the others wore. Carrying a gun wouldn’t be much different than a wand, except every bullet was Avada Kedavra.
It might even be a natural choice for Harry.
Except Harry could also see himself miserable and dying inside the entire time. Fighting wasn’t… it wasn’t fun. It wasn’t something Harry wanted to do.
Not with a wand, not with a gun.
If a fight couldn’t be avoided, Harry would defend himself and the people he cared about, but that was as far as Harry would consider it.
“Not a chance,” Harry told the others. He scowled playfully at Mendez, who had probably been joking anyway. “I’ve seen what your life is like, I’m not interested.”
Mendez laughed with good-natured humor but Jones shook his head at Harry.
“If the draft comes knocking, I hope you like MRE’s, my guy.”
Harry’s eyes flew to Tony’s, momentarily panicked at the thought. Tony only grinned though, not even concerned.
“Don’t worry, kid, if your last name doesn’t exempt you, your extensive psych history will.”
Harry grinned in relief. “You’re saying having a broken brain has finally come in handy?”
“Being crazy always comes in handy,” Booker said. “‘I’d like to plead not guilty by reason of insanity, Your Honor.’”
Greene was the only one who didn’t laugh at Booker’s joke.
“We’ll see who’s laughing when China strikes and they pull all our asses back in the fight,” he said darkly. “Hell, Uncle Sam might just use us as canon fodder. The more of us that are dead, the less we drain the system and remind them that we exist.”
Harry wasn’t sure what was going on with Greene, but he didn’t exactly seem like he was having a very good time. Harry waited until the meeting broke up to ask him about it though.
Greene wheeled himself to the door as soon as Sam called it and Harry murmured to Tony that he needed a minute before quickly trying to follow him.
“Slow down,” Harry complained when Greene was damn near to the doors and Harry barely made it out of the meeting room. “Your chair is faster than my bloody leg.”
Greene ignored Harry and went straight outside, leaving Harry to catch up with him.
“Mate, what’s up?” Harry asked as soon as he made it outside. Greene was just sitting in his chair, in the freezing wind, staring out at the parking lot.
Harry liked Greene. He was only twenty and the two of them had a lot of common tastes in music and interests. They both had German Shepherd dogs, Greene’s was a pretty brown female named ‘Lucy’. Greene introduced Harry to an app called ‘TikTok’ and kept Harry in constant supply of videos that were just stupid enough to be hysterical. They had even planned on going to a concert together that summer, so Harry wasn’t sure why he was being froze out, but he didn’t think it had anything to do with him really.
And Harry might have dropped it-
If it weren’t for Anderson.
If Harry didn’t see Greene sounding a bit crazy and acting off and didn’t immediately think of Anderson, he would have dropped it.
“Sky?” Harry tentatively put his hand on Greene’s shoulder. “You good?”
Greene didn’t even blink and when he finally spoke, he sounded dazed and shocked.
“I got fired,” he said. “Last week. I just cashed my final check on Friday and it’s- it’s not even enough to cover half my rent.”
“Oh.” Harry was relieved at the relatively simple fix. It was sort of impossible to spend almost all of his time around Tony and Sirius and not see the way that money could fix a lot of problems.
“How much do you need?” Harry asked him. He held his hands up when Greene looked up at him and glared daggers with his blue eyes. It wasn’t hard to guess what his sudden irritation was, Harry didn’t like charity either.
“I can loan you money and you can pay me back when you get a new job,” Harry amended himself. He didn’t actually care to be paid back, but he thought it might appease Greene’s pride.
“I don’t want your fucking money,” Greene snapped. He grabbed Harry’s wrist and threw it off his shoulder. “I want my life back. I want my girl back, I want my shitty job back. I JUST WANT MY FUCKING LIFE BACK!”
Harry reeled back and finally saw what the emotion was in the back of Greene’s eyes that had been there all morning.
It was pain and misery.
It was painfully familiar.
It was the same look Anderson had—
“I’m proud of you, man, you know that?”
It was the same look Harry saw in the mirror for weeks, months.
“Sky…” Harry dropped to his knees beside Greene’s chair, feeling just as lost as he was sore from standing and walking so much.
“Just go home, bro,” Greene said flatly. He looked back out at the parking lot and Harry saw the muscles in his jaw clench. “I’m fine. I’m not going to fucking hang myself.”
Harry flinched and Greene must have seen it because he softened his tone some.
“Sorry, it’s just…” Greene huffed and slumped his shoulders. “It was two years this week since this.” Greene wiggled his stumps. “And life is just… it sucks so bad, bro.” Greene’s voice broke at the end and Harry looked away from his face so Greene didn’t know Harry saw the tear that leaked out.
“Taylor made it look easy,” Greene said bleakly. “I mean, I can’t fucking hang myself because I can’t stand up, but it’s not like I haven’t thought about it.”
Harry, extremely subtly, and with a skill he had perfected during long boring hours in US History, pulled his phone from his pocket and relied on memory instead of sight to pull up Tony and send an SOS text.
If Greene was thinking about killing himself, then he might do it. Harry thought about it for months… months and months… and then he did it.
And Tony caught him, so maybe he could catch Greene because Merlin knew Harry didn’t have any idea what to do to help. He kind of doubted saying ‘Go inside and find Hermione’ would work, and that was the extent of what Sirius said when Harry had dangled on the edge of the Astronomy Tower.
“You believe in Hell?” Greene asked. Harry didn’t think he was really talking to him, since he answered himself. “My mom did, Catholic, you know. Catholicism says if you commit suicide, you go to Hell. But I don’t think Taylor would have went to Hell, I just don’t. My man saved lives, what God would send him to Hell just because he wanted to be done with the pain?
“Hell is this shit, bro. It’s trying to save your skin and still losing your life. I’m still breathing, but I just… I wish I’d died there,” he said quietly, hurting Harry’s chest with his plaintive words.
Someone cleared their throat behind Harry and he put a hand on Greene’s shoulder - just reminding himself that he was still there - and was relieved when it was Tony standing behind them. Harry met Tony’s eyes and felt like there was a moment where they communicated silently with each other.
Tony was there to catch Greene. It wasn’t Harry’s job, it wasn’t a job for a teenager.
“I’ll just go…” Harry trailed off when it was clear that Greene wasn’t listening to him anyway. When Tony offered Harry a hand to get to his feet, Harry accepted it then.
“You think you can drive yourself home?” Tony murmured once Harry was on his feet.
Harry was a terrible driver and portaling was easier, but…
“Absolutely,” Harry said solemnly. He gave away the small spark of glee that Tony’s offer lit with a cheeky grin. “Are you going to kick me out if I wreck?”
“Nope. I’ll make you help me rebuild it,” Tony said airily. He gave Harry his keys and held Harry’s hand in his for a moment. “If you think you’re going to wreck, make a portal, okay?”
Harry flushed that he’d been basically called out as they both knew he had a much simpler method home, but he was still eager to drive the car by himself.
“Deal.” Harry sent an uncertain look to where Greene sat, still silent and distant. “You’ll- you’ll help him, right, Dad?”
“Mm, I’ll get him help,” Tony said quietly. “Go on, don’t wreck. Pep’s at home.”
Harry could admit that he loved his dad, he was certain of it. But Harry was also a fifteen year old with the keys to a flashy sports car, two feet to drive with, and a boyfriend who lived twenty miles away. So when the choice went to being a good son or doing something that sounded fun, well…
Harry didn’t have a lot of fun recently.
If nothing else, Peter had been appropriately impressed when Harry showed up at his house not only driving, but also walking.
The two of them goofed off for a few hours. Peter tried to help Harry get back on a skateboard, but Harry’s leg was awkward and difficult to manage on a board.
“You’ll get it,” Peter said confidently.
Harry hummed an agreement while he remained skeptical. He was crap at it before he lost a leg, he didn’t imagine that a prosthetic had somehow improved his skill.
Peter was helping Harry with studying for his test on Monday when Pepper texted Harry and asked him to come home.
“Time to face the muuuusic,” Peter sang.
“There’s no music to face,” Harry said. “My phone is tracked, the car is tracked, my bloody leg is tracked. If Dad wanted me home before now, he would have told me so.”
“Point,” Peter agreed. “Hey, you think Greene’s going to be okay?”
Harry thought it over while he packed his stuff in his backpack.
“Yeah,” he said confidently. “I mean Dad’ll probably figure out what to do, you know?”
Peter spun around in his desk chair and cocked his head to the side.
“I’m surprised you let Tony handle it,” he said.
Harry faltered in his prior confidence.
“Why wouldn’t I have?” he asked slowly. “You think I should have stayed?”
He should have. Harry should have stayed. Damn.
Harry just thought that it was one of those things that were out of his ability to fix.
“No, it was a smart move to have your dad do it,” Peter assured him. He stood up and popped his back before grinning at Harry again. “It’s just surprising.”
Harry narrowed his eyes and gave Peter a curt goodbye and only begrudgingly returned his kiss—
It might surprise Peter, but Harry wasn’t stupid enough to ignore his rather fit boyfriend when he was offering up his mouth to kiss.
“AND THEN HE CALLED ME STUPID!” Harry smacked the steering wheel and then quickly corrected the car when it caused the wheels to jerk.
Ginny’s sigh was audible even over the Bluetooth connection Harry had going between them. He had called Hermione first, but she asked if it was an emergency (Harry said yes and when he started talking she just hung up on him) and so he called Ginny to vent.
“You are stupid,” Ginny said. “He wasn’t saying it was surprising you made a smart decision, he was saying it was surprising you asked Tony to deal with it.”
“How is that surprising?!” Harry demanded while he kept his eyes on the road. Driving wasn’t hard, necessarily, but the other cars made Harry nervous. If one of them swerved and hit Harry’s car, then it would be tricky explaining how he doesn’t technically have a license.
“Okay, let’s play pretend,” Ginny said. “Remember the Yule Ball?”
Harry snorted. “Yeah, I do.”
“And remember when Ron and Hermione got in that big fight?”
Harry wasn’t sure where Ginny was going with her story.
“Yeah?” he said.
“What would you have done if Ron had gotten depressed over that fight with Hermione and said he was thinking about drinking enough Dreamless Sleep to kill himself?”
Harry clenched his jaw in brief irritation. Every time someone mentioned killing themselves it brought up a sick feeling of shame in Harry for his own actions and a wave of grief for his friend.
“I dunno, tell him not to do it?” Harry said. “Ron wouldn’t do that though, he’s not- Ron’s not…”
Ron wasn’t a quitter was what Harry couldn’t say.
“Your best mate says he wants to kill himself and you’d say ‘no, don’t’?” Ginny scoffed. “Think about it, what would you really have done?”
Harry considered it seriously for a minute while he drove. If Ron had told Harry after the Yule Ball that he wanted to die, what would Harry have done?
“I’d tell McGonagall,” Harry decided. “And then she could take Ron to the Hospital Wing or call your mum or something.”
“Liar.”
“I’m not lying,” Harry said hotly, a bit overly defensive.
Ginny sighed again and Harry was getting as fed up with her as Hermione was him.
“Harry Potter never would have gotten a teacher if his friend was in trouble, he would have handled it himself,” Ginny said. “Which is stupid. So Peter was probably just surprised that Harry Stark—”
“Potter-Stark.”
“Whatever. Peter was probably just surprised that you, for the first time in your bloody life, let an adult handle a situation,” Ginny said. “For the record, so am I. Congrats, Harry, you’re growing up.”
When Harry hung up a few minutes later, after letting Ginny vent about Luna and her bullies that Ginny plotted murder for (Harry mentioned locking them in Slytherins Chamber and Ginny thought it was a brilliant idea), Harry considered what she said.
Maybe Harry was ‘growing up’ or maybe, for the first time in his life, he had an adult he trusted to take care of difficult problems.
Not that Sirius wasn’t trustworthy, but most of his plans tended to be incredibly illegal. And also there was that problem with Sirius also running to Tony about Harry’s problems, so it was just for the best that Harry cut out the middleman on occasion.
By the time Harry made it up to the flat, he was limping, sore, and relieved to see Pepper waiting for him.
“For the love of God, Harry, how long have you been walking on that leg?” she asked the second Harry stepped off the lift.
Harry checked his watch and grimaced.
“Er… since I woke up,” he said. “Is Dad home?”
“He stopped by long enough to tell me to tell you that your friend is safe and that you were right to get him,” Pepper said. She patted the seat beside her on the sofa. “Come sit down and rest. You weren’t supposed to be wearing that prosthetic for more than three hours a day.”
Harry limped over to the sofa and immediately breathed easier with the weight off his leg. He’d tried to rest it while he drove, but the stress of driving kept having him tense his leg up.
“Are you hungry?” Pepper asked. Her soft face was wrinkled up with concern as she watched Harry massage his stump over his clothes.
“I’m fine,” Harry told her. “Where’s Dad?”
Pepper hesitated just long enough for Harry to start trying to stand back up.
“Just relax,” Pepper said. She grabbed Harry’s right hand and held it between hers as she guided him back to the sofa. “He’s with Sirius, nobody’s hurt.”
Harry sensed a ‘but’ in Pepper’s tone.
“But we should wait until he gets back to talk,” Pepper went on.
“Is Greene really okay?” Harry asked anxiously. “Shit. He hurt himself, didn’t he? Or- is it Sirius? Did he go on some stupid mission and get hurt? Is it- JOEY!” Harry called for his dog as he tried to mentally list off the people that could cause Pepper to want to ‘talk’.
“Your zoo is fine,” Pepper said quickly. She rolled her neck in what seemed to be resignation. “Your dad is talking with lawyers.”
“What?” Harry’s panic receded and he blinked at Pepper in complete confusion. “Why?”
Harry would have remembered hitting someone else’s car while he drove…
“Harry…” Pepper reached over and grasped one of Harry’s hands again. She held it tightly and smoothed her thumb over the back of his hand and refused to let Harry pull away.
“President Quahag called your dad,” she said slowly. “They released Barnes from the hospital in London, he’s being held in the magical prison in Massachusetts until his trial.”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat and suddenly he could smell his flesh rotting away, he could taste the earthy scent of potatoes in his mouth, crushing him. Harry’s ears wanted to fill with buzzing that would make everything meaningless again, but Harry couldn’t let it.
“Trial?” Harry asked faintly. He felt lightheaded and had to squeeze Pepper’s hand to stay grounded.
“The prosecutor wants to meet with you, to get your testimony,” Pepper said. “They’re charging him with a number of felonies.”
Harry nodded his head even if he didn’t quite understand.
It was… it was something that someone was being charged for their crimes against Harry. But Bucky had been sick. Harry had seen it, felt it.
“When do I have to talk to them?” Harry asked Pepper.
“As soon as your dad and Sirius find a lawyer to go with you,” Pepper said. She was the one to squeeze Harry’s hand then. “You don’t have to do it alone, honey. We’re all here for you.”
“What happens if I don’t?” Harry asked, a bit desperate. He looked over at Pepper and saw that she looked about as happy as Harry was.
“What if I don’t want to talk to them?” he asked again. “I just… everything’s better now,” he said, his voice quivering some. “I can walk and my grades are better. Strange said I’m a good student. And Peter…” Harry trailed off when Pepper didn’t interrupt to say that he didn’t have to. She just let him ramble with her pretty teal eyes sad and soft.
“I have to?” Harry asked.
“If you don’t, then he could walk away from it all,” Pepper said carefully. “It’s unfair, I know. But without your testimony, then there might be no consequences for his actions.”
Why did that burden fall to Harry? Why did Harry have to lose a limb, lose a part of himself, and then have to relive it to complete strangers?
“I know.” Pepper let go of Harry’s hand so she could pull him to her side while Harry stared blankly at the wall across from them.
“You don’t need to decide anything right now,” Pepper murmured. “We’ll talk about it with you dad.”
Harry nodded in acknowledgement and then just let Pepper cuddle him in her side for a while. It was nice having Pepper there, Pepper caring.
Harry imagined that if his mum could meet Pepper that she’d probably like her.