Chapter 7
See, for Tony, most things around him happen at a rapid pace.
He’s not aiming for the Drama Queen angle, but it’s true. Life is usually not boring for him; things just occur so damn quick he feels like he’s in a movie montage or something. Childhood: a compilation of Howard’s approval and attention seeking. College: a blur of drinking and being academically superior to his fellow students. Post-Crash: the constant feeling of falling, feeling like Alice in Wonderland without the blonde hair and spunky blue dress. Meeting Harry: a waterfall of new emotions, like a bottle of sensations spilling over.
But.
The thing is, even though he loves driving, when he drives for an excruciating amount of time, minutes feel way too long.
‘But Tony, if you hate driving for hours, why did you agree to go on a road trip?’ Asks every annoying person ever. Who have clearly, a.) never been in a car staring as the streets go by or b.) never had a conversation with one Harriet Potter. So honestly, these people have been missing out.
Yep, okay, he’s gotten off topic. His point is, is that they’ve been driving for five hours straight once he’d fixed the car and they’d gotten the fuck out of Adams Family Haunted House Point Two before those creeps had gotten the chance to, he doesn’t know, stab them or something. It’s been five straight hours, and even with the music blaring and Harry’s peaceful aura going on, he’s still managed to become restless and agitated and he wants to stop driving so he doesn’t hate all the awesome cars he just knows he’ll buy in the future. And besides, ever since this morning Harry’s decided to be Silent Sally, so she’s not helping his mood at all.
Tony decides that they’re stopping soon, because he’s part selfish and bored and majority in one of his newfound moods where he needs to be the centre of Harry’s attention. (That’s most of the time these days, because, like he said, have a conversation with Harry.)
“Yo, Potter.” He starts, and Harry gets out of her head for a second to give him a stare, her green eyes slightly glazed, which just won’t do. “Wanna stop to pee? I could pee, I downed a coffee like two hours ago, so that’s probably gonna kick in soon enough. What’d you say, you, me, couple of empty bladders? And I’ll buy some snacks. Ooh, a Twinkie for me, I’ve been craving a Twinkie for the past few hours.”
“It’s good to see your will-power is growing,” Harry comments idly. “The memory of you entering the hot dog eating contest is still ingrained in my mind. I don’t think I can look at mustard without feeling nauseous.”
“You and me both Harpo. And let’s not talk about that tragedy. Fifth place? Sixteen hotdogs in five minutes is not fifth place material. The fact I didn’t even get a medal- alright I’m done, I’m done. Rather not go down that particular lane. Again.”
Now, usually this would get a positive reaction from Harry. He’s expecting a chuckle, maybe if he’s really lucky he’ll see her head tip back and one of throaty husky laughs coming into play. But all he’s given is a slight smile, before she resumes her old position and stares out the window of the car. Tony’s no Sherlock, per se, but he knows that this is all a tad concerning, which obviously means something’s wrong. And he’s not one to beat around the bush.
“What’s wrong?” There.
Harry turns round to him once more, but from the corner of his eye she’s got that look in hers, the defensive one when they first met, and he is so not going back to the time where they both had Stranger Danger with each other. So he gets his metaphorical foot, and decides to shove it in his mouth.
“You’re in a whole other planet there, which, fair enough, earth can sometimes smell like dirt and oxygen, which, ew, but if you’re hauling ass, take me with you? Pretty boring being left here on earth alone. With all the dirt and oxygen.”
“What does oxygen smell like Tony?” Harry asks softly, bringing her knees to where her stomach is.
“That’s a pretty ignorant question, but I’ll let you off the hook. You’ve been lost in that old noggin of yours for some time.”
“I thought I was on a planet?”
“Your mind is totally a planet. I have no idea what goes on in there, it sounds ridiculously cool but it’s probably super weird. Like those people we met in our very own horror movie. Gracefully aging, legit food, but creepy as hell.”
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.” Harry’s playing along, which is an improvement and that’s dandy. But she hasn’t laughed yet, and it’s so easy to make Harry laugh apart from now, so being the Mental Knight in Shining Armor (has someone used that title? He should trademark that while he has the chance) that he is, Tony finds a place on the street they’ve arrived at and parks the car swiftly. He so earned his drivers permit, fact of the day, but now his attention is solely on Harry, so that fact means jack shit. Harry, meanwhile, has both eyebrows raised and her lips have subtly parted. Tony can make out a glimmer of white that is her teeth, and then has to stare at her eyes, because lips are a danger zone with this girl.
“Why are we stopping?” She asks, but her shoulders hunch in resignation, so Tony’s pretty sure she’s made the right assumption.
“Ah, you know, a little one on one, a heart to heart if you will.” He levels her with a look that he hopes comes across as non-threatening and open because Tony, all jokes aside, wants to present himself as a safe space, so she can let whatever’s bothering her out, and maybe she’ll be happier? He really should’ve visited his guidance counsellor more often, damn.
“It’s nothing. I’m fine, Tony. Really.”
“Harriet. We’re gonna be in this car for a while if this denial keeps up, and I don’t want to be stuck in a car that reeks of bullshit.”
Harry looks up at the roof of the car and sighs, which sort of reminds him of when he was little and knew no better than to ask Howard questions. Tony wants to rapidly shake his head at that thought, because Harry and Howard don’t even clash slightly on the Venn Diagram.
“Really, it’s nothing. I just had a bad dream, is all.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“No really, it’s silly. I don’t even know why I’m upset. I’ve had worse dreams.” And her fingers do that thing, when they absentmindedly reach up to softly circle that small scar on her forehead. Tony’s had time to look at it in the past few weeks. He can close his eyes and see the outline of that lightning bolt, something that could never be an accidental carve. When he feels his palms sweat, he’s surprised to find his fists already in clenched positions. Go figure. His body’s better at revealing emotions then his mind will ever be.
“If you’re trying to comfort me with that statement, you’ve failed spectacularly.”
Harry scoffs, shaking her head in distaste. “You sound like Draco.”
“Who?”
“My former boyfriend. Total know it all.”
Oh.
Oh.
Oh hell. No.
Tony’s alert now, holding himself up in a higher position while trying to look non-chalant. Even he knows he’d not doing the best of jobs. “Former boyfriend.” He repeats, just to double check, or see if his ears are intact, or if she was just having a moment.
It’s Harry’s turn to straighten up, as if they’re both having a competition of whose spine will hold out longer. But Tony’s getting worked up and he’s always been competitive at heart, so Harry will lose at this for sure.
“Yes. Former boyfriend.” She says airily, all very blasé, a contrast to Tony’s internal ‘What the Fuck’ mindset he’s taken on.
“Interesting.”
“Isn’t it?”
“How long”-
“Two years, on and off.”
“Long time.”
“Exceedingly.”
“Keep in touch with Drew?”
“Draco.”
“My bad.”
The air has become stale and heavy, and it’s getting increasingly stuffy in this car which is annoying, seeing how the cars already heated. Fuck if he’s gonna break the eye contact and scroll up the window though. Not after she dropped the Ex-boyfriend bombshell on him like it was as simple as commenting on the weather. So English.
“Boyfriend, wow. Fair enough,” Tony nods, copying Harry’s current persona. Quick note: did he mention he’s competitive? “We’ve all been there. Don’t ask me to count my past interests, it’ll take days. On end.” Harry’s eyes flash and her lips thin, and just like that, her blasé attitude is gone.
Harry: I. Tony: I.
“Is that so?” Harry asks, the stare off between them becoming achingly long. Tony hates too much eye contact, he means, who likes it? But maybe he is Alice in Wonderland, since he feels like he’s falling down a mass of emerald and can’t stop. It’s not as terrifying as the average sane person would think.
“Yep.” Tony declares, tone smug and victorious, because ha. “Maybe I should’ve kept a diary, kept tabs on conquests.” He also hopes Harry isn’t as good as detecting lies as she looks. When provoked, Harry can really nail the ‘Don’t Fuck with Me’ face, it’s pretty intimidating, he loves it, he’ll get a picture of it, maybe frame it. As long as Drew isn’t next to her in any of them.
“I feel like that’s an overload of information for the day.” Harry voice is wry, edged with steel, so Tony knows she’s believed him, and that’s- actually, it doesn’t feel as good as he had hoped it would. “Excuse me, I’m going to get some air.” When she leaves the car, Tony lets out a breath he didn’t clock he’d been holding until now. He runs a hand over his face, knowing that if Rhodey was here, he’d get a smack on the head.
"I'll come with. Can't get enough of that oxygen."
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They walk in silence for a while, Tony not knowing how to fill the silence that he may have unintentionally caused. Well, she kind of started it, and he finished it with flying colours except Harry doesn’t see it that way so it’s all gone very tits up. And even though that expression sounds good, it really, really isn’t.
The walk isn’t long, like Tony said, things happen around him at a rapid pace. But it begins to stretch out longer and longer whenever Tony attempts to say something to lift the mood and just can’t. He’s getting the idea that Harry could give less of a shit; she’s been lost in her head like she was in the car. So, really, the only thing he accomplished by opening his mouth was setting them in a different scene. Despite the growing tension (probably only between he himself and don’t forget him), he’s still so charmed by Harry. She’s slightly talking to herself, mumbling little bits and pieces and occasionally biting her lip- but that’s a danger zone, he’ll back off right now- and it’s so freaking cute he’s battling between a tense mindset and one where he lets out a girlish giggle. He’s becoming such a girl lately, he’d be embarrassed but, oops. No can do.
Okay, he’s decided to do something about it.
“You know, maybe I’m exaggerating a little about the line-up for one Tony Stark. I exaggerate a lot, it’s part of my charm, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it just a little bit? Just a smidge?”
“I’m not angry at you, Tony, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Harry, whose been walking in front of him on the pavement by the woods (strolling in her badass black leather boots, she’s badass, it’s not news) turns around to give him a knowing look, halting in her tracks. And, because she’s a trendsetter, he stops too. “It’s just my dream, you know? Have you ever dreamt something that felt so real?”
“You know I have.” Tony tells her, softer than he intended, but oh well. He takes a deep breath, preparing for the honesty that will never come naturally to him. “First night together, remember? I was a wreck, totally gone. I dreamt of the- the, uh, Crash. That I was in the car.”
Understanding gleams in Harry’s eyes, and Tony could sob, because there is no pity there, none. It’s freeing, to not be treated as a victim, Tony will try and do the same for her.
“That sounds horrid.” Harry says, so very sincere. She’s about to speak, but she very slightly tilts her head, listening to something that he can’t hear. Or can he? His hearing is legit, he’s not ashamed to say it. When he strains his ears, he gets it.
“Sounds like water streaming.”
“Damn, Hot-Pot. Good set of ears right there.”
Harry grins, as if all of today was one big lie, and she takes his hand. Which is also something he’d missed, because touching Harry (shut up, he doesn’t mean it like that) brings him a new level of glee, and he doesn’t like the word glee because it sounds corny and weird, but it’s the only word that can describe that feeling in his chest. So he guesses he’s corny and weird now, but he’ll get used to it. As if he’ll stop holding Harry’s hand anytime soon.
When they get to the sound of streams, it turns out to be a lake.
It’s practically hidden, surrounded by trees entering the forest, and it’s so blue and practically sparkles, like it’s been blessed by Walt Disney. Tony’s not usually someone to outwardly enjoy nature- people have always assumed he’ll only be happy with a room surrounded by computers- but if he had no self-control over his actions, he’d have gasped. He’s totally becoming corny, it’s infuriating.
An idea springs to Tony’s mind then, making him grin at Harry’s future reaction. He throws his shirt over his head and shuffles out of his jeans. When he turns to Harry, her eyes have widened.
“What in Merlin’s beard are you doing?”
“Blasphemy, Potter. Merlin’s beard is not to be fucked with. And I’m taking a dip.” He embellishes a shrug and heads in the water. Which is fucking freezing, but after the heat of that car, he’ll take what he can get.
“You’re mad.” Harry remarks. If Tony didn’t know any better, he’d say she appears scandalised. Man he wants to giggle.
“Harry, look around you. This is what I call privacy. We haven’t gotten a lot of that lately, and generally speaking, people suck. So get your butt in here so we can have a grand old time without judgement. Unless you’re going judge on me, don’t you dare, I’ll call Ron up, I don’t care, I’ll even find out his phone number.”
Harry’s grin widens, tongue slightly peeking out. Danger zone, he knows. “Ron responds by owl only. He doesn’t own a phone.”
“You see, a lesser person would judge you for that terrible joke, or your friends lack in socialising skills, but I’m not that guy. Quit stalling, ass in here now.”
Harry chuckles to herself, lifting her shirt above her head, and. Maybe Tony should think his ideas through?
He doesn’t know where to look.
Well, he does. But he won’t. He shouldn’t. Can he?
He means, it’s obvious Harry’s gonna have the best of bodies, because it’s Harry, and Harry’s at that stage of Tony’s life where she can do no wrong, and, to be honest, she doesn’t seem to be leaving that area any time soon. He knows she’s flawed, but everyone is, so that’s not a valid point. But she is near the perfect zone, nearer than anyone he knows- where the hell is his mind going to? The point, yes, the actual point, is that Harry’s definitely a ten out of ten on the body scale and Tony wants to look but he doesn’t know if he can, so his eyes are looking at the white sky and his mind is a clusterfuck of hormones and confusion. It’s only when he sees Harry’s face staring at his chest, that he takes a sneaky peek. After that, for a few seconds his mind feels like the colour of the sky. Oh so very blank.
The temperature of the water manages to...calm him down, and focuses him on the present. Which is really, just really needed.
Harry walks into the water, hissing at the cold until she reaches up to Tony, who’s about half way in by now. And because Tony’s a little shit, the first thing he does when he greets her is to splash her in the face.
Harry squeals, Tony finally giggles.
“Oh it’s on, Anthony.”
“Do your worst, Harriet.”
Before he knows what’s happened, Harry’s tackled him into the water, and when he comes to the surface, she has an innocent expression on her face, looking at her surroundings with wide eyes.
“Tony! Why on earth are you having a bath? Silly boy.”
Harry: II. Tony: I. Damn.
Tony grabs her and lifts her up over his head. She’s shrieking, flailing in the air, her laughter hysterical as she uselessly kicks. “No, Tony! Put me down! Bastard!”
“What was that? I can’t hear you, you’re too far up! Speak louder Harry, get some vocal chords!”
Harry: II. Tony: II.
Harry smiles something devilish, and before he can throw her into the lake she places her hands on his shoulders, hard. Soon they’re both falling into the water in one big splash. He chokes on some of the liquid since he’s laughing so hard, rising up from the lake with energy and ready to get back at that English rascal. He stops however, when he gets up in his standing position and realises Harry is pressed tightly against him, his arms surrounding her like a fucking reflex.
And this is amazing and new and exciting, except it might be a bit too exciting, which will ruin the amazing part of this waterfall of emotions he’s experiencing. And so Tony stares hard at the shore in front of them, thinking of anything to stop the mood from…rising.
Phlegm. Old bitchy receptionists. Incorrect mathematical equations. Reporters. Rude Woman giving birth. The name Cuthbert.
It’s working, and Tony doesn’t want to toot his own horn, but he’s pretty proud of himself.
Harry: II. Tony: III.
He can’t help the dopey smirk that lights up his face, and when he turns his head to look back at Harry, she’s watching him with a bizarre expression.
“What?”
“Why on earth do you look like that?”
“Huh? Like what?”
“Like you’re drunk.” Tony knows his smile is still firmly in place, and it’s probably grown, since Harry hasn’t caught on to his previous dilemma and his therefore triumphant achievement. If there was a prize for keeping certain events down, he’d have won with a standing ovation.
“Reasons, Potter, I’ll tell you later.” He replies breezily, his hands firmly on her back. He traces words on her back, which he’s been doing as of late, because there’s so much he wants to say to her, but his words suck, and she doesn’t deserve sucky words. There’s a flare of goose bumps on her skin, and he has a feeling it’s not the icy lake that’s working its wonders. Not if she’s feeling the warmth that’s taking over his chest and expanding.
“I’ll tell you later too.” At what he knows is a baffled expression on his visage, Harry continues. “There’s so much I want to tell you, Tony. And I will, I know I will, I can’t remember when I made that decision, but it’s made. I’ll tell you everything. But not yet. I’m- I’m not ready.”
She looks so guilty, her eyes locked below and her face muscles constricting. And before he realises it, his hands are cradling her face. He’s done this once, at the hospital, when she was afraid of seeing blood, but this feels more intimate. Because there’s no one here, because he feels as if they have all the time in the world, because the open expanse of nature actually feels better than a room filled with technology right now. He knows his hands are cold but when they press against Harry’s skin, they go warm, and the pink of Harry’s cheeks makes him think she’s having the same sensation.
“We have years, Harry. There’s no pressure. Hey, when we’re rocking the elderly home together you can tell me then. Provided you let me win at bingo, knit me woolly sweaters, you know, stuff wrinkled people do.”
Harry laughs, the sound light and carefree, and almost surprised. She looks at him in wonder, weird that. “You think we’ll know each other that long?”
Tony grins, bringing his arms back to wrapping around her middle, his hold around her tight. He’s not possessive, okay, he’s just in a good place right now, why ruin it with his arms at his side? “Oh yeah. Didn’t I tell you? I’m clingy, there’s no fancy word for that. So you’re stuck with me, and before you ask, yes we can celebrate, I’ll bake a cake and you can throw the confetti because I’m a delight.”
“Mm,” Harry hums, placing her arms around his shoulders, leaving shudders in her wake. “What if I want a restraining order.”
“Stark. Best lawyers ever, sorry, not sorry.”
A snap of a branch brings Harry and Tony out of- whatever they were in, he has no idea. His head whips to see what it was, because even though this is probably the least inhabited place on earth, there’s usually a paranoia at the back of his mind that vultures like the fucking paparazzi will show up, or even worse, reporters. When he turns to Harry, she’s tense and searching speculatively the place where the noise came from.
“Probably just a rodent or something.” He decides to be the voice of reason, even though his fight or flight response wants to kick in about now. He’s weirded out, for some lack of explanation, this is a more negative sense than being with that creepy invasive family.
Harry’s unconvinced. She easily slips out of his arms (coincidentally he’s cold now, so very cold) and walks towards the land, her posture straighter than he’s ever seen and steps practically mechanical. She looks like a soldier in that moment, and that infuses a moment of panic for him that he never wants to have again. Harry approaches the land, her eyes never leaving the trees even when she quickly places her shirt back on. She also must have picked up a stick, because she holds it so tightly in her hand her knuckles are white even from where he’s standing. He thinks it’ll snap, but it doesn’t.
He comes out of his daze, walking quickly over to her, because if something is out there, as if he’ll just stand in the lake like it’s a sauna. But as soon as he’s on land, the crunch is heard again, and a rabbit pops out from behind a bush. Tony relaxes, but Harry very obviously doesn’t.
“Relax, Potter.” He tells her, placing a hand on her stiff arm. She deflates a little, but her usual laid-back character isn’t back in place. She turns to him, a wary look in her eyes, but nods determinedly.
“Let’s get out of here. This doesn’t feel right.” She grabs his hand, squeezing it tight (to reassure herself? Him? He doesn’t know) and leads him off, not before he picks up the rest of the shoes and clothes on the way. Thank the Lord for quick thinking.
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The car is still there when they get back, which he thought it would be, but Harry very much didn’t. She breathes a sigh of relief when she takes in the vehicle, then quickly hurries inside the car, not before he enters it himself. The car is freezing when they’re both inside.
“So, um. Anything you want to tell me now? I mean, I meant what I said, I’ll wait for answers. But. What just happened?”
Harry stares out the window, gripping the steering wheel. He wishes it was back to how things were on the lake, this morning even. He’d take quiet contemplation over vibrating suspense any day. She shakes her head, lips pursed. “Let’s just drive.” While she starts the car, all Tony can stare at are her hands, which are still shaking. And that hurts, knowing she’s internally suffocating, because not only can he empathise, but he can see the damage it’s doing to Harry. Harry who doesn’t need the crap she’s dealing with right now, whatever it is. His body is pretty much on auto pilot when without thinking, he takes her hands between his own, rubbing them up and down.
“It’s okay.” He says, his voice low and sincere. He doesn’t think it’s ever sounded like that before, but all he can hope for is that it works. Harry takes a shaky breath, looking at him with gratitude and awe. He doesn’t understand why, but he’ll get answers from her one day, so he keeps warming her hands, pleased when they begin to warm.
“Thank you.” She whispers after a while, hoarse and the most fragile he’s ever seen her. “I’m sorry I freaked out.”
“No apologies.”
“But”-
“Harriet.”
She’s about to reply something witty, he just knows, when there’s the sound of a ‘pop’ outside, and the car slightly sinks. They look at each other in part confusion part caution, and Tony’s the first to get out of the car to inspect what the fuck just happened. When he goes around the car, he notices one of their tyres is flat. As if on purposefully deflated.
Before he can be mildly freaked, he notes a rabbit next to the car, teeth sharp and eyes flashing, if a rabbit can actually do that shit. He’s about to call Harry over, who’s now on the other side of the car being a detective herself.
And then something happens.
The rabbit convulses, morphing and changing and growing before Tony’s very eyes. It increases in height, it’s figures moulding to form into that of a- of a man. And then it is a man, a man dressed in black and Tony’s mind is whirling because that can’t be possible he was a fucking rabbit two seconds ago and now he’s human what’s going on has he taken something where’s Harry they need to get the fuck out of here what is happening-
“Tony!” He faintly hears Harry yelling his name in the background, but the man releases a stick from his hand, a stick similar to what Harry was holding onto earlier, and the man says something not the rabbit the man who was a rabbit what is happening Tony can’t move but he needs to he needs to get to Harry-
The few words the man utters must do something, because one second, he’s up, and the next thing he knows, the world around Tony is gone, and everything’s faded to black.
Like he said. For Tony, most things happen at a rapid pace.