Chapter 34
"No," Harry thrashed, "no, don't. Stop! Stop it! No!"
"Harry?" Bucky questioned curiously, appearing in the doorway. At the sight of the teenager thrashing about in the bed, things flying around the room by, what Bucky assumed was, magic.
"Harry!" Bucky exclaimed, hurrying to Harry's bed. It had been two days since the incident at Peter's, and Harry was still supposed to be resting, which was why he was napping now, at ten in the morning.
Harry still wasn't supposed to be performing any magic whatsoever, so the fact that items in the room were breaking or flying, concerned Bucky.
"Harry, bud, can you wake up for me?" Bucky hushed, his tone light.
From the doorway, Steve peered into the room, watching adoringly as Bucky pulled the covers off of Harry, as gently as possible, speaking to him in a gentle voice. It was the softest Steve had ever heard Bucky speak, even to Peter.
"Harry, it's time to wake up buddy," Bucky placed the blankets that he had lifted from on top of Harry's sweating and thrashing figure, on to the floor quietly. He didn't want to make any loud or sudden movements that might wake Harry up violently in a half-conscious state.
Steve watched as Bucky padded quietly towards the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth from a cabinet, dampening it a bit under the faucet, before wringing it out as best as possible and heading back towards Harry.
"Harry," Bucky soothed gently, lightly brushing a strand of Harry's sweat-matted hair out of his face. He knew that when waking someone having a nightmare, especially a rather violent one, it was best not to touch them. But Bucky always found it most comforting when, whenever he was having one, Steve would wake him with light, gentle touches.
If the touches were soft and warm, rather than cold and forceful, Bucky knew he must be safe and no longer with Hydra.
"Shh, there you go," Bucky murmured, now bringing the damp rag to Harry's forehead as the teen began to wake.
"It's okay, you're okay. It's Bucky- you had a nightmare," the ex-assassin hushed, continuing to brush Harry's hair out of his face soothingly. With his metal arm, he gently dabbed the cool washcloth on to Harry's flushed, hot, skin.
Items in the room began to fly back in to place, and everything that had broken repaired itself, until everything was still again. Steve watched in amazement as things reassumed the exact position they had been in before Harry had experienced the nightmare. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought nothing out of the ordinary had gone on.
"Hey there," Bucky cooed softly, giving Harry a small smile as the brilliantly green eyes flashed open suddenly, his entire body tensing. Bucky stood up straight, as Harry shot up, eyes flashing around the room.
Steve jumped into action, abandoning his post as a doorway spy, and raced into the bathroom and grabbing a bucket from under the sink. No sooner had he made it to Harry's side and thrust the bucket into Harry's arms, was the teen heaving his breakfast into the red plastic basin.
Bucky, who had pulled his hands away as soon as Steve appeared with the bucket, now placed his bionic hand on the small of Harry's back gently, careful to mind the still-healing wounds. With the other hand, he draped the washcloth over the back of Harry's neck.
"It's alright, let it out," Steve murmured, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. He looked up at Bucky, who was studying him with an amused smirk on his face. Steve shook his head, fighting a small smile that was pulling at his lips, before looking back down at Harry.
"I'm going to go get a glass of water and some Advil," Steve told the two of them as Harry finished. "Are you done with the bucket, or do you think you might still need it?"
"Think 'm done," Harry grimaced, voice still heavy with sleep, "but don' worry 'bout it. I'll get it. 'S gross."
Steve looked at Harry, raising his eyebrows. "Harry. It's fine, really. I've got it."
He managed to ease the bucket out of Harry's hands, and gave the teen one last light pat on the shoulder before exiting the room.
"Sorry," Harry muttered, looking down at his hands shyly as he realized what had happened. "Didn't mean to interrupt whatever you were doing."
Harry scooted himself up against the headboard, Bucky helping him prop a pillow up to lean against. Bucky then motioned towards the end of the bed, and looked at Harry, who gave him a small nod.
Taking a seat on the end of the mattress, Bucky looked at Harry as if he were trying to assess him.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, making sure he phrased it as a definite question instead of making Harry feel as if he was being forced.
Harry shrugged, looking up at Bucky. "Would it change anything if I did?"
Bucky bit his lip as he thought about the question, before replying to Harry.
"Maybe, maybe not. But, there's an old wives tale that if you tell someone about a dream, you won't have it again."
"Really?" Harry questioned, narrowing his eyes at Bucky as though he thought the soldier was joking with him.
"I'll tell you what, bud," Bucky placed his hands on his knees, and rose to his feet. "You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to. You don't have to tell anyone, and nobody is going to mad at you for whatever you choose to do. But, there's a group meeting at S.H.I.E.L.D in an hour that Steve and I are leading. If you're feeling up to it, and Bruce says it's alright, I'd love if you came. You don't have to, and even if you do come, you don't have to say anything. Sometimes, I find it comforting to just sit and listen to what everyone else has to say."
Harry contemplated this for a moment, before drawing his knees up to his stomach and wrapping his arms around them.
"Do I have time to take a shower first?" He asked after several beats of silence passed between the two of them.
"Of course," Steve spoke as he re-entered the room. "And don't worry about the group. It's not going to be all sad and sappy the entire time. There's plenty of laughing and story telling as well."
Harry gave a small nod, and shakily rose to his feet. Bucky reflexively reached a hand out to help steady the kid, and Harry gave him an appreciative small. Slowly, he shuffled passed Steve, accepting the water and Advil and downing both gratefully, and made his way into the bathroom, closing the bathroom door.
Moments passed before the shower turned on, and Steve reached his hand out to Bucky, pulling him out into the hall and against his chest.
"You're adorable, did you know that?" Bucky teased, standing nose to nose with the super soldier.
"You're pretty cute yourself," Steve purred, eyes searching Bucky's face lovingly, taking in each of his features.
"You stood there and watched me for quite a while," Bucky quipped, moving his hands lower on Steve's back, until they were resting on his ass.
"Caught me," Steve smirked at feeling Bucky's hands lingering. "You're really good with him and Peter. You always know just what to do, and just what to say to help."
Bucky let out a small exhale as Steve's calloused fingers traced his jawline lightly, before tucking a strand of dark hair behind his ear with ease.
"You're going to be a really good dad some day," Steve whispered huskily, and somehow, he made those words sounds like the sexiest thing ever.
"It was a team effort, if you remember correctly," Bucky replied, using his hand on Steve's ass to pull his boyfriend even closer to him.
"Erm-" someone cleared their throat from down the hall, making both Steve and Bucky leap apart from one another as if they were teenagers that had just been caught doing something they weren't supposed to be doing.
Bruce was standing at the end of the hall, looking very red in the face and uncomfortable.
"Um, sorry to interrupt," he coughed, motioning down the hall. "I was just, um, heading to my room and-"
"No, we're sorry. That sort of behavior should be reserved for, er, private locations," Steve winced, elbowing Bucky's ribs as his boyfriend snickered beside him.
"Hey Bruce, I was just wondering if you think Harry could come along to the meeting at S.H.I.E.L.D with us today?" Bucky piped up, eager to break the tension in the hallway. For fuck's sake, they were in their thirties (technically hundreds!)- they could do what they damn well pleased.
Bruce nodded, "I don't see why not. He just woke up from a nap, and as long as he's sitting and not doing much physical activity or using magic, I'd imagine he'll be fine until around three or four."
"Great. He just woke up from a nightmare, and I think going to group will really help him. It helped me a lot," Bucky confided with a shrug.
Bruce frowned before admitting, "I'm worried about the nightmares. They're affecting his sleep, and if they continue much longer, I may have to talk to Tony about putting him on some medication to help with that. And I really don't want him to become reliant on them, but he can't continue the way he is now."
Bucky glanced sadly towards Harry's bedroom door, and then gave Bruce an understanding look. "I'm hoping the meeting today will help him, and maybe convince him to come to more."
"It's at least worth a shot," Bruce agreed. From inside Harry's bathroom, the three men could hear the shower turn off.
"Alright, well I'm going to go grab what I need and head back to the lab," Bruce cleared his throat once more, making his way past the soldiers.
"Have a good meeting."
"Thanks Bruce," Steve responded, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as the scientist passed them and turned into a room down the hall.
"You look like a scolded puppy," Bucky chuckled, looking Steve up and down.
"He just saw us-"
"I'm very well aware that he just saw us," Bucky laughed, giving Steve's arm a playful shove. "Come on, let's go get stuff ready for the meeting."
*
"Buck," Steve stopped him right outside the meeting room. His eyes fell to Bucky's metal arm, and he gave a small nod towards it.
"Oh, right," Bucky muttered under his breath. "I'm going to run it out to the case- it's in the car- and I'll be right back."
Harry shot a confused look between the two, but decided not to ask. He figured if they hadn't been talking to him, it wasn't any of his business.
"Do you want to wait for Bucky to come back, or go in now?" Steve asked Harry, who was standing closer than usual to him. He was wearing one of Peter's sweaters, and it threatened to swallow him with how big it was. The sleeves extended a good six inches past where his hands were, and the fabric fell just above his knees.
That, combined with the dark circles under his eyes, made him look even smaller and more fragile than normal.
"Can we wait? All go in together?" Harry murmured quietly. He was nervous for the meeting- everyone in there was probably way worse off than he was. He just needed to suck it up and get over it, right? There were people out there that were suffering from much more traumatic events than him.
"Of course, buddy," Steve reached out and placed a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. "Now, everyone in here was or is a retired veteran that do or did work for S.H.I.E.L.D between deployments or after. But some people are just S.H.I.E.L.D employees that experienced different traumas in their personal life. So don't be afraid to speak up if you want to share, but nobody is pressuring you to."
Harry gave a small nod, and Steve frowned internally. He knew what Harry was thinking- it was similar to how Bucky had dealt with PTSD at first. He felt as though his problems weren't as significant as others, and he thought he could just 'get over it' on his own.
Steve was just about to say something to Harry when Bucky appeared, slightly out of breath. It was evident that he had ran to the car and back.
Harry's eyes widened as his gaze fell on Bucky's missing arm. He had removed the prosthetic, and now, his t-shirt sleeve was pinned haphazardly to the cloth on the shoulder.
Bucky realized as Harry took a step closer to him and stood up straighter that it was the first time Harry had seen him without his arm, and a sense of pride and love bubbled in his chest as he realized that Harry was, whether consciously doing it or not, acting protective of him.
"I take it off before meetings because I don't want anyone to feel threatened or uncomfortable," Bucky explained. "Besides, there are other amputees in there who have been waiting for prosthetics for a while now, and I want to support them the best I can. I know it's not necessary, but I like the sense of vulnerability it gives me. It's humbling."
Steve grasped for Bucky's hand and gave it a small squeeze, looking lovingly at him with baby blue eyes.
"Come on you two, we're going to be late if we keep standing here all day," Bucky rolled his eyes, pulling Steve towards the door. Harry followed, staying close behind the two men.
"Steve," Bucky spoke as Steve kept his hand intertwined with Bucky's.
"Yes?" Steve questioned, and Bucky gave him an amused look, raising an eyebrow and biting back a grin.
"Either you have to open the door for me, or let go of my hand."
Steve blushed, and reached for the door, pushing it open. It was evident that he wasn't used to Bucky not wearing the arm for everyday activities. Sure, he didn't sleep with the arm on, but that was when they were sleeping- not fully functioning out in public.
Harry stuck close to Bucky's left side, as if he was covering Bucky's exposed side. He didn't know why he felt such a compelling urge to protect the soldier, especially when he knew that Bucky could easily whoop ass, literally, one-handedly.
"Hey!" A chorus of voices called as Steve, Bucky and Harry made their way into the room. The room was set up with furniture in a circle, but not in the stereotypical support group set up. Instead, in place of what normally were thought of to be uncomfortable folding chairs, the room had bean bags, couches, ottomans, and various cushions, all arranged in an circular shape.
Blankets and pillows were in large baskets in various places in the room, and a small kitchenette area was in the back corner of the room. A wide spread of different desserts and snack food were on display along the counter, and a variety of soda's and other bottled, non-alcoholic beverages were sitting on top of ice in a cooler.
The walls of the room were a soft, soothing color, and a mural was painted on the wall opposite the kitchen area. A TV hung in the center of an adjacent wall, with shelves upon shelves packed jam packed full of a plethora of books and movies of all genres.
"Harry, this is the rec room here at S.H.I.E.L.D. We use it mostly for meetings, but it's a good place to come and take breaks during or after long shifts," Bucky motioned around the room as Harry took it all in. "Help yourself to any food or drinks, and then take a seat wherever."
He gave Harry a reassuring smile, and nodded towards the counter.
Harry tentatively walked towards the cooler and grabbed a water bottle, opening it with shaky hands and taking a long drink.
Behind him, Steve reached over to grab a brownie from a platter. "You have to try these- Caroline makes them, and they're probably my second favorite brownies ever."
"Second favorite, huh?" A woman, probably in her early to mid thirties teased, appearing beside Steve and giving him a questioning look.
"Well, Harry here makes the best brownies in the world. Best food in general, if you ask me. He's the reason I've had to up my training time recently- without it, I'd be as wide as I am tall," Steve chuckled, taking another bite of the dessert.
"I'm sure yours are a lot better," Harry shook his head, blushing. He didn't want to upset Caroline, a woman he had just met, who seemed like a sweet person.
"I doubt that," Caroline smiled, "Steve is our personal taste tester. I believe him when he says yours are the best. You'll have to bring some next time!"
She gave him a genuine, sweet smile, and extended her hand.
"Caroline. It's nice to meet you," she greeted, shaking his hand firmly but amicably.
"Harry. It's nice to meet you as well," he finished shaking her hand and glanced back down at the floor.
Caroline gave Steve a sad look as Harry wasn't looking. It was obvious to her that Harry was going through similar trauma as she was. It tore her up inside to know that, even someone so young, had been treated so horribly.
"Hey everyone! Meeting starts in one minute!" Someone called, and everyone in the room began making their way towards the furniture in the center of the room. Bucky and Steve took their seats on a loveseat, and Harry sat on Bucky's left in a bean bag chair. His back was beginning to ache, and he could feel his muscles spasming and contracting uncontrollably. He hoped that it wasn't obvious to others that he was suffering from a short episode, curtesy of the extensive nerve damage in his back.
"Alright, how is everyone today?" Steve began, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees.
Mumbled answers around the room shot back at the super soldier, but the majority of responses were positive.
"Good deal everyone," he smiled, "I see a few new faces this week. Why don't we go around the circle and introduce ourselves. You can give a little bit of a backstory if you want, or just say your name and we'll move on from there."
Nods from around the room signaled for Steve to begin.
"Alright, well everyone here knows Bucky and I well, so I'll just start out by saying that I'm Steve and this is my partner, Bucky, and then I'll pass around the room, starting with Joey."
The older man sitting to Steve's right gave a small wave, and began.
"Hi, I'm Joseph, but everyone calls me Joey. I'm a retired vet. Served in Vietnam as a fighter pilot in the Air Force for a full tour, and then came to work as a pilot for S.H.I.E.L.D. I just retired last year, after twenty three years with the program. I'm mostly just working through some PTSD from combat, from both S.H.I.E.L.D missions and my time in 'Nam."
Joey finished, motioning to his right, where a petite woman was sitting on a cushion on the floor, her legs crossed beneath her.
"Hi, I'm Anna, but everyone calls me Anna," there were chuckles around the room, and Joey gave her arm a playful nudge.
"Unlike most people here, I've never actually been out on the frontlines of a mission, but my job here is to take incoming calls in the emergency department. A lot of my job is taking calls from missions that have gone wrong, and have resulted in injuries or fatalities. I won't go super in depth right now, but the job has just... worn on me a bit. I wouldn't trade it for anything, but I decided that I needed to talk to other people about it."
The man next to her reached out his hand and gave her shoulder a small squeeze. Harry noticed that the man was missing his right leg, and his left leg had a large scar spanning the length of his calf.
"I'm Beau," he introduced himself, his voice low and had a bit of a southern twang. "Anna and I are actually engaged now, after she took the call that saved my life when I had been injured on a mission. A bullet entered right above my right knee, and exited just below it and lodged itself in my left calf. It had nicked an artery, and Anna was the one who told me to make a tourniquet and kept me conscious until she could give my coordinates to an emergency response team. I ended up losing the leg, but I would have lost my life had it not been for Anna. She came to visit me in the hospital after surgery, and ended up staying for almost six hours while I waited for my family to arrive. We've been dating ever since."
He gave her a wide grin, and she leaned her head into his hand.
"Welp, my story isn't nowhere near that interesting or adorable," the man next to Beau chuckled, and chuckles echoed throughout the room.
"I'm Jamie, and I've been an engineer for S.H.I.E.L.D for ten years now. I took a short break in there to serve in Iraq, and I'm just dealing with some PTSD from that, which is why I'm here."
He motioned to the woman sitting next to him, who blushed profusely.
"H-hi, I'm Kimberly," she spoke, her voice very quiet and soft, as if she were afraid to speak up. "This is my first time here, and I'm not ready to share my story yet."
"That's completely fine," Steve encouraged. "It's great to have you Kimberly."
She gave a small attempt at a smile, though it came off as more of a grimace. Next, Caroline was sitting in a bean bag chair.
"Hello everyone! I'm Caroline, I've been coming here since Steve and Bucky decided to start these groups, and it's helped me a lot! I work in control, so you could say that I'm pretty much the brains behind the whole operation."
Everyone laughed and rolled their eyes as she flipped her short hair behind her shoulder.
"I haven't served in the military, or gone on any S.H.I.E.L.D missions. I used to be a detective at a police department, but Fury decided that I was too good for that, and swooped in and brought me here," this earned her more chuckles, purely for the image of Fury swooping in like a bird and picking her up.
"I come to these groups because my ex- husband was fond of alcohol. He was a mean drunk, and that sweet man that I loved, turned into this monster that I feared as soon as he drank. It's been almost ten years now, and I've made a lot of progress from where I was, but I don't think I'll ever be able to forget how he would beat me and rape me until I couldn't move. He'd apologize and convince me it was my fault, all in one breath, and I started to believe him. I isolated myself, broke away from all of my friends and family, until he was the only one I had."
"It was actually my daughter that saved my life," she continued, "Abigail was the product of rare good night with my ex, and, while I was pregnant, he was an absolute godsend, and I truly thought things were going to change. But as soon as she was born, things went back to the way they were before, and I realized that I couldn't raise a child like that. I couldn't raise a child into thinking that it was normal for her dad to beat her mom until she was unconscious, or have to worry about, what if he comes after me next?"
"So after one particularly bad night, he left to go to a bar and I called the police. He was arrested, and I divorced him and moved away. That's when Fury asked me to come join S.H.I.E.L.D, and I haven't looked back since."
She let out a deep breath and looked around the room. "Wow, sorry to bring the mood down like that, and completely spill my guts there, but I think that was the first time that I successfully told the full story without crying, so I do believe applause are in order."
Everyone smiled at the return of the bubbly Caroline, and began clapping and cheering for her. Jokingly, she stood up and took a goofy bow with a grin.
A few more people introduced themselves and gave a brief run through of why they were there, but Caroline was the only one Harry was thinking about at the moment. She seemed so full of life and had such a bubbly and contagiously happy personality- could he ever be like that?
A nudge on his leg pulled Harry from his thoughts, and he looked over to Bucky, who had given him a slight nudge with his foot, before realizing that the person beside him was finishing up.
Harry remembered what both Steve and Bucky had told him about how he didn't have to share what he didn't want to. But after seeing almost everyone else open up to the group, and nobody face any judgement, Harry was contemplating sharing.
Steve thanked the older woman to Harry's left for sharing, before everyone's gaze shifted to him. Harry felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment, and anxiety swelled inside of him.
"Um, hi, I'm Harry and I," he began, looking towards Bucky, who's face wore an expression of surprise, but he gave Harry an encouraging nod, letting him know it was alright to continue.
"I wasn't planning on sharing my story today, but all of you have made me feel like I can. It's a bit of a long story, so I apologize in advanced, but I think I need to say it. If I don't say it now... I don't think I'll ever have the courage to do so."
"Of course, Harry, take all the time you need," Caroline spoke up, and everyone nodded and mumbled in agreeance. Wiping his palms on his pants, Harry began.
"Life... hasn't been easy for me, to say the least. My biological parents were murdered when I was a year old, and I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle. They..." Harry closed his eyes, letting a tear slip down his face. "They abused me. Beat me. M-my uncle, h-he whipped me... r-raped me."
The room was deathly silent, and the older lady sitting next to him reached over and held her hand out. Graciously, Harry accepted it, and gave it a small squeeze.
"It started when I was six, and it continued up until the day that I was rescued. My only escape was the boarding school I attended from the first of September until the first of June. I would stay for holidays, only going home for summer. But there were... it wasn't always safe at my school. Two years ago, the... the man that I loved, the first person who I had told about the abuse... he was murdered in front of me. It tore me up inside- I was only fourteen, and nobody my age knew what I was going through. I couldn't tell anyone- my uncle would have killed me. The only person who knew was dead... I wasn't in a good place.
"I started cutting. I know now that... that's not the right thing to do. It won't solve any problems, and it doesn't make you feel any better. But at the time, that's all I knew. That summer after his death was one of the worst so far. My uncle wouldn't let up at all, and he began to favor other forms of torture, things that I won't even begin to try to explain. When I went back to school in the fall, I tried my hardest to cover up the bruises and scars and open cuts, making excuses as to why I wouldn't change in the locker rooms, or in front of everyone in the dorms.
"As what always happened over school years, I grew healthier and I healed physically. But my mental state was... is still, suffering greatly. At the end of the year, there was a fight. My godfather and his husband, my headmaster, and the brother of my best friend were all killed. My two best friends told me to go to hell, and haven't spoken to me since. And I gave up."
Harry paused as his breath hitched. "I went back to my aunt and uncle's over the summer. I was really ready to end it all. But one morning, my aunt sent me to the market for groceries. It was hot, and I had experienced... a lot the night before, and I passed out. A man who was also at the market saw me, and became very worried. He called his fiancé and they were going to take me to the hospital, but I insisted on going home. Reluctantly, they dropped me off, but they told my aunt and uncle about what had happened.
"The man was Tony Stark, and I didn't know it at the time, but he figured out what was going on, and came up with a plan to get me out of there. He and Pepper left, and went to get groceries, claiming that they were mine and that I had forgotten them. They decided to do this to check on me, and if they hadn't... I don't think I would be here right now."
Harry wiped at his eyes, but kept going. He knew he had to finish his story, because he needed to say it. He needed to talk through it. He needed to acknowledge that this was his life, and this had happened to him.
"My uncle was mad. He whipped and raped me badly, and threw me down the stairs right before Tony and Pepper rang the doorbell. I was hurt really bad, with a collapsed lung and wounds so infected that it led to sepsis that shut down my kidneys. Tony and Pepper called the police, and my uncle was arrested. Tony made sure I got the medical care I needed, and Natasha even donated her kidney to me.
"I went back to England last month to retrieve my belongings from their house. My aunt and my cousin moved away, and my uncle had escaped somehow. I told Tony and Natasha, who had come with me, that I wanted to go in by myself and get some closure, but..." Harry closed his eyes, remembering the events of that day, down to the second. Flinching as the woman beside him gave his hand a squeeze, he opened his eyes again and faced the group, before continuing.
"My uncle was there. He... he hurt me pretty bad. 57 lacerations on my back with an electric whip, internal bleeding, and some injuries pertaining to the ra-rape," Harry told them, not wanting to go into detail. "I'm still healing, and it's been a rough few weeks while recovering. But Natasha and Tony rescued me again. My uncle pulled a gun on Natasha, but she turned it on him and... somewhere along the lines, in the struggle, the trigger was released and killed him.
"And my aunt... she's suing Tony for custody of me. Because Tony and Pepper want to adopt me, and I love them so much, I love the entire team. Bruce, Steve, Clint, Natasha, Pepper, Tony, Bucky..." he was careful to mind Peter's name, not knowing who knew Peter was Spiderman and who didn't, and not wanting to accidentally expose the superhero.
"We're still waiting for the trial, but I don't understand why I have to be subjected to this anymore. I've tried to kill myself because of my aunt and uncle, and my cousin... he did. I don't understand why this is even an option. I'm happy here, now. Why can't they just let me be happy?"
Harry looked down at his lap and let a deep sob out.
"Harry," a small voice murmured as someone appeared in front of him. Expecting to open his eyes and see Caroline, Harry was shocked to see Kimberly kneeling before him.
"Thank you for sharing your story, it was very brave of you. I... I went through a similar experience with my boyfriends as you did with your uncle. Not to the extent that you have, but still pretty bad. He just died about a month ago in a car accident, and I don't even know how to feel. Part of me is relieved that it's over, that I don't have to go through it anymore. But part of me is wondering, why? Why am I upset that he's gone? Why did I love him? Why, when I wished so many nights after he was done with me, that he would disappear, did it hurt so bad now that he's gone? Why couldn't I just be happy?"
Kimberly wiped a tear from her own face. "But I know for a fact, that Steve, Bucky, Tony, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Pepper- they're not going to let you be taken away. Your health and happiness is of top priority for them. I know Steve- he's the one that convinced me to come to this meeting- and I know Tony and Pepper. They're not going to let anything happen to you. Happy days are coming, I promise."
"Harry, it's not easy, and will probably never get much easier to tell your story," Caroline spoke, placing her hand on her chest "and I just want to say that you are very brave for sharing your story. Thank you, sincerely."
"I think everyone here can agree with that. Coping with the emotional and physical trauma might get a bit easier, but reliving the events that caused it? It's always going to be hard, but the way you handle it is what changes," Steve piped up. "I think that's a good lesson to take away from today.
Instead of always looking at the negative occurrences in your life and how they've hurt you, look at them as how they've helped you grow."
Everyone around the room nodded, and Harry shakily opened the cap to his water bottle and took a sip. Silently, Kimberly slipped back to her seat, looking more comfortable now than she had at the beginning of the meeting.
"On a lighter note, we've got thirty minutes left, so how about a game?" Steve asked. "Get to know one another, and if you need to talk one on one, you know where to find me."
The room quickly filled with chatter as everyone rose to their feet and made their way over to the shelf that held all of the games. Harry, too, rose to his feet, but he didn't follow the crowd over to the table where they were dealing several decks of cards to all participants.
"Harry," Bucky spoke in a soft, husky voice. Harry turned to face Bucky as the man placed his hand on his shoulder.
"I'm very proud of you for sharing today, and I'm really glad you felt comfortable enough to do so. This is a safe space, and I want you to know that anything you shared today will remain here, and here only."
"Thank you. After hearing everyone else's stories... I felt like I could share my own. But now, I think I'm feeling it," Harry motioned down at his body, which was shaking like a leaf.
"You're a remarkable kid, did you know that Harry?" Bucky told him. "I really am proud of you."
Suddenly, to Bucky's surprise, Harry's arms were thrown around his torso and hugging him tightly.
"Thank you," Harry murmured into Bucky's chest. Bucky squeezed him lightly with his arm, and rested his chin on top of Harry's head.
"Any time, buddy. Any time."