Chapter 37
"It's raining cats and dogs out there," Peter laughed, stepping out of the elevator, sopping wet curls flopping limply into his face.
Harry rose from his spot at the kitchen counter with a smile, walking over to where Peter was dripping in the entry way and planting a kiss on his lips.
"Peter, you're freezing," Harry commented, pulling away from his boyfriend. It was mid-September now, and the rain had brought an early cold front through the city- a stark contrast from the mid to upper 80s that it had been in weeks prior. "Did you walk here all the way from school in the rain?"
"Yeah- it's not too far. Don't worry, I can't get sick. Just cold," Peter explained.
"But you're cold to the touch, and normally you run warm, so regardless of whether or not you can get sick, I'm making you hot chocolate and you're going to go take a hot shower and put on some fresh, dry clothes," Harry ordered, guiding Peter down the hall towards his bedroom.
"Harry, really, I'm fine," Peter reassured, but his skin betrayed him as it broke out into goosebumps, and he began shivering.
"I know you say you're fine, but you can still get hypothermia, and it would even be easier for you to become hypothermic than it would be for anyone else. So I'm telling you again- go take a hot shower, and I'll get you some dry clothes."
"Fine," Peter whined, as they entered Harry's room.
"You go ahead and get in the shower," Harry rummaged through a drawer and found one of his largest sweaters- he knew how much Peter liked his sweaters big- and a pair of jeans that were still too big for his prominent and bony waist.
"Here are some dry clothes, they should fit you," Harry handed the clothes to Peter.
"Umm..." Peter's face blushed bright red, despite how pale and clammy he had previously been.
"Are you alright? What else do you need?" Harry asked, eyebrows furrowing, hoping he hadn't offended Peter with his comment about the clothes fitting.
"I, um..." Peter stuttered. "I need underwear."
Now Harry's face flushed bright red as well, and he pointed to the drawer at the end of the dresser.
"It's... they're... it's in that drawer. I'm- I'm going to go to the kitchen and, erm, start on the hot chocolate."
"Okay," Peter replied, waiting until Harry left the room to reach for the drawer.
*
"Hey- ooh, what are you making?" Tony spoke, entering the kitchen. Harry jumped a bit- he hadn't heard Tony's footsteps.
"Hot chocolate. Peter walked from school in the rain and he was really cold when he showed up," Harry explained, stirring the steaming liquid on the stove.
Tony frowned. "Where is he now? He should have called me and I would have gone and picked him up- he knows he can become hypothermic easier than most."
"He's taking a hot shower, as per my command. I told him the same thing," Harry nodded, turning to grab two mugs from a cabinet behind him.
"Those are new, where did you get them?" Tony smiled, looking at the two mugs that Harry had pulled from the cabinet.
"May. It was a thank you gift, for... helping Peter," Harry responded, looking at two ceramic mugs and smiling sadly at the memory of Peter on that fire escape.
The mugs were adorable- one was pink and had the face of Piglet, and the other was yellow, with Pooh's face on it. Peter had mentioned Winnie the Pooh while Harry had stayed with him and May, and Harry's face had lit up with recognition.
Harry couldn't remember a lot about his parents, as he had been barely over a year old when they died, but there was one hazy memory that he could recall. His father was bouncing him on his lap, and his mother was reading him a book. On the page, there was a chubby yellow bear wearing a red shirt, and a cute little pig walking alongside the bear on a path.
Harry had explained this to May and Peter, and a few days later, May had showed up to the Tower while Harry was resting with the mugs as a simple thank you.
"I think Peter and I are like Pooh and Piglet, actually," Harry spoke, snapping out of the trance.
"How so?" Tony asked, leaning his elbows on the counter and propping his head up with a hand.
"I think I'm like Piglet- I'm small, timid, and practically scared of my own shadow. And Peter's like Pooh- he's just so outgoing and friendly to everyone, with such a bubbly personality that you just have to love him."
Tony reached out his hand and placed it on top of Harry's with a small pat.
"I think that you're right, but I think you're more like Piglet because you're loyal, and you are brave, despite all the reasons you have to be afraid," Tony smiled.
"He's right," Peter spoke as he entered the kitchen. The sweater was oversized, and he was snuggled far down in it.
"Come here Pete," Tony waved him over. Peter walked to where Tony was standing, and Tony grasped Peter's hands in his own.
"You're still cold. Peter, what were you thinking?" Tony chastised lightly, voice stern but not mean.
"I just needed a walk to clear my head," Peter shrugged, burying his hands into the long sleeves of the sweater once more.
"I'm going to go get a fire started," Tony declared, walking into in the living room.
"Here you go," Harry handed Peter a steaming mug of hot chocolate. "I'm going to go get a few blankets."
"It's not a huge deal, you don't have to make a big fuss about me," Peter sighed, reaching for Harry's hand.
"Peter," Tony spoke in a warning tone. Peter knew that Tony meant business, as he wasn't often times stern.
"I'll be right back with blankets. You pick a movie, and save me a seat on the couch beside you," Harry placed his hand on Peter's cheek briefly before disappearing down the hall.
Peter walked over to the couch, grabbing one of the blankets that were in a basket beside the couch and draping it around himself. Despite wanting to protest Harry going to get more blankets, the ones in the basket were just throw blankets, more for show than warmth.
Moments later, Harry reappeared with a bundle of fuzzy blankets heaped in his arms.
"Are you guys having a rainy day movie marathon?" Bucky asked as he and Steve emerged from the hallway.
"Yeah, do you want to join us?" Peter asked, motioning towards the couch with his head as Harry began tucking him under several more blankets.
Bucky glanced towards Steve, who gave him a chuckle and an encouraging head nod.
"You don't need my permission, Buck," he teased with an endearing smile. Bucky squeezed his shoulder before making his way over to the large, sectional sofa, taking a seat right next to where Peter was.
"Harry, that's plenty, thank you," Peter giggled, stopping Harry before he laid the fourth blanket down on top of him.
"Alr-" Harry had just opened his mouth to begin speaking when a large crash of thunder suddenly interrupted him.
Harry tensed, his entire body going rigid as lightning flooded the penthouse. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the memories of the Ministry of Magic to go away.
Spells flashing wildly around him, crashes of prophecies and the booms of explosions that had been meant for his head, hitting the concrete walls around them.
Desperately trying to will away the memories, Harry opened his eyes to find Peter tense underneath his blankets, and Bucky's face tight and pale.
"Harry... Peter... come here, very slowly please," Steve's voice was low and calm as he moved from behind them to around the side of the couch.
Harry grasped at Peter's hand, helping him rise to his feet slowly before they slowly began backing away. Steve was now kneeling a few feet from where Bucky was sitting, staring at nothing in particular.
Another large rumble of thunder sounded again, and Harry pulled Peter closer towards him, subconsciously placing himself in front of Peter's taller and leaner figure.
"Hey Buck," Steve spoke quietly, lowering his head so he could look into Bucky's eyes.
"Please don't make me," Bucky pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper, yet so full of emotions. "I don't want to, not anymore. Please, don't make me."
A crack of lightning struck, and Bucky's eyes flashed wide open, and he shot up to his feet in an instant.
"Bucky," Steve slowly rose to his feet, careful not to make any sudden movements that could potentially set the ex-assassin off. "It's me. It's Steve. You're with me, here, at the Tower. You're safe, I've got you."
"No," Bucky's gaze was somewhere else, his normally gleaming eyes now dull and emotionless.
Tony took a few tentative steps towards where Peter and Harry were, stepping in front of them protectively. With a press of a button on his watch, the Iron Man glove enclosed around his hand.
"Dad, what are you...?" Harry whispered, eyes wide in horror. But Tony just turned to him with a small, sad head shake.
"Bucky, you were just about to watch a movie. I think Peter had picked out Bambi. Do you want to watch Bambi with us?" Steve continued, taking another tentative step towards his partner.
Bucky's face hardened, his jaw clenching tightly as he swung his metal arm at Steve, who ducked with ease before grabbing on to the arm.
"Bucky," he grunted, holding the vibranium arm tight in his hands against the force that Bucky was shoving at him with. "Bucky, you are safe. It's me. It's Steve. I've got you."
Another crack of thunder, followed quickly by a blinding flash of lightning. As the room returned to its normal lighting, Harry's heart sunk as he saw Bucky crumpled on the floor, Steve's arms wrapped around him in a hug.
Tony let out a small sound of relief. "Friday, initiate thunderstorm protocol."
"Initiating thunderstorm protocol," Friday responded. Blackout blinds lowered down the ceiling to floor windows that took up the majority of one of the walls. Interior lights flipped on to their dullest setting before growing slightly brighter slowly, as not to harm Peter's sensitive senses.
"Sound proof too," Tony shrugged with a sigh, looking at Harry and Peter as he retracted the glove back into the bulky bracelet.
"You two are safe to come back over here," Steve called sympathetically as he placed a panting Bucky on the couch.
Peter bounded over to the couch and plopped down, sitting with his legs crossed in a pretzel shape, but Harry was more hesitant.
Bucky had just tried to hit Steve.
The man he loved the most, he had just tried to punch with his metal arm. If Steve had been any normal person with reaction times even a split second slower, or normal strength, the punch could have been very damaging, or even fatal.
Who was to say that he wouldn't snap again and try to hurt someone else?
"Harry?" Tony spoke, voice soft as not to startle the trembling teen. But despite the low tone of voice he was using, Harry still flinched.
"Harry, you're alright. It's safe. Bucky just had a flashback," Tony attempted to reassure.
Flashback.
Spells flying.
Explosions booming.
Magic crackling.
People screaming.
Pain. So much pain.
Laughter cackling.
More pain.
Dying.
Lots of dying.
Anguished cries.
Ron punching at his body, screaming hysterically after Fred...
Silence...
"Harry," Tony's hands were on his arms, touch light and gentle.
"No," Harry whimpered, his knees giving out on him. Tony's strong arms caught him as he sank to the floor.
"It's okay, I've got you," Tony hushed, kneeling down and gathering Harry in his arms. One hand embraced his kid as he kept him upright, and the other found its way through Harry's unruly hair.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, didn't mean to. All my fault, I'm sorry. Please don't hurt them. Please don't leave me," Harry sobbed, mind still trapped in the flashback.
"I've got you, just breathe," Tony soothed.
Vernon.
Punching.
Kicking.
Whipping.
Raping.
Biting.
Throwing.
Pain. Hurt so bad.
Loneliness.
Freak. I'm a freak.
Fucked up.
Nobody will ever love you.
"I've got you son, I've got you," Tony murmured into his hair. "I'm here, I love you."
Bucky stood off to the side, re-oriented with his surroundings and looking sheepish and ashamed.
"I'm sorry I scared him. I didn't mean to, it just kind of-"
Tony held up a hand, silencing the ex-assassin.
"I understand. You don't have to apologize for it. He's going through his own flashbacks," Tony glanced sadly at the kid bundled into his arms.
Warmth.
Strength.
Embraced.
Loved.
Hugged.
Voices low and loving.
A kiss to the top of his head.
"Dad?"
"I'm here buddy," Tony replied, giving Harry a small squeeze.
"I'm sorry. What happened?" Harry felt disoriented, as though he had just woken up from a long nap.
"Nothing that was anyone's fault. There was a thunderstorm, and both you and Bucky experienced some flashbacks. It's completely normal, and nothing to blame yourselves for," Steve replied, wrapping an arm around Bucky's waist and giving him a small squeeze.
"I'm sorry if I scared you," Bucky apologized, kneeling down in front of Harry. "I didn't mean to, truly."
"It's okay. It's not your fault. It happens, I understand," Harry felt, in some odd way, comforted that he wasn't alone. That he wasn't a freak.
"Now, if you'll allow me, I think I remember something about watching Bambi?" Bucky held out his normal hand to Harry, offering to help him up. "I am definitely up for some Peter and Harry snuggles."
Harry couldn't help but laugh. If someone had told him when he had first seen Bucky that the man would be requesting 'snuggles' from him and Peter- and they were obliging- Harry would have laughed at them. But now, knowing the soft spot Bucky held in his heart for the two of them and the rest of the team, Harry would find it weird if he didn't want that type of affection.
"You three are pathetic. But adorable, I'll give you that," Tony chuckled as the two teens and the winter soldier settled underneath layers and layers of blankets on the couch. A mess of tangled limbs could be seen, as Peter's legs rested on top of Bucky's lap, and Harry's arms encircled Peter's midsection. Peter's arm was around Harry's shoulders, and Harry was leaning his head against Peter's chest. Bucky's human arm was mindlessly carding through Peter's curls, and his legs were propped up on an ottoman.
The movie began playing, and from the kitchen, Steve let out a small, quiet chuckle. Tony glanced to him curiously, a smirk toying at the side of his mouth.
"I sure do love that bunch of goofballs," Steve shook his head. Tony found himself nodding in agreeance, the smile on his face growing bigger.
"Yeah. I do too. I really do."