Harry shifted his shoulders, trying to roll out the ache in his left shoulder. Considering the fact that he’d never really injured that shoulder, he knew what this meant; knew that whoever his soulmate was - wherever they were - they had to be in extreme pain for him to even feel it.
He’d felt a lot of pain over the years - felt a lot of injuries that honest to Merlin terrified him because the thought that he was familiar enough with pain even at a young age to know his soulmate was hurting meant he’d have had to lead a very - very hard life.
He’d experienced the burning pain of bullets; the slashing pain of a knife; the gut wrenching pain of joints out of sockets. He wasn’t sure what could ever cause the searing headaches he sometimes got, but that was probably the most terrifying.
He wasn’t sure if he felt better or worse that he didn’t ever see the results of the injuries.
He wondered sometimes how old his soulmate was, and hoped they were older than him because the thought of them feeling these things as a child made him feel sick.
The fact that he’d been able to grit his teeth against the Cruciatus for nearly 30 seconds terrified him.
The ache intensified and Harry hissed out a breath. This constant ache had been with him as long as he could remember, but he had no idea what could be causing it.
He pushed away from the kitchen table, his tea sloshing from the harsh movement.
There was a soft pop and Kreacher appeared at his side, concern on his wrinkly face.
“Master is in pain again.” he complained, wringing his hands, and Harry gave a sharp nod.
“An ice pack would be much appreciated please, Kreacher.” Harry requested, and Kreacher immediately hopped to it, offering him ice wrapped in a towel within seconds. Harry slid to the floor because anything else was honestly too difficult and pressed the towel to his shoulder. He hissed out another breath as the pain grew sharp, almost blinding, and when he blinked back into focus, Kreacher was all but shaking over him.
“Kreacher will not watch another Master die. Kreacher refuses.” and there was a mad light in his eyes; the likes of which he hadn’t seen since before the war.
“There’s nothing you can do, I’ll be fine.” Harry tried to assure, and that’s when the next wave hit.
For a second, his eyes rolled back in his head. When he looked back up at Kreacher, the house elf was pointing a bony finger at him.
Then everything went black.
>>>
Bucky was used to pain. At this point he would say it was the only thing he knew consistently. His shoulder had hurt from the moment the arm had been connected to the moment Stark had managed to get it off, but the pain in those last moments had been excruciating.
He’d watched Steve’s face go white with it, and if nothing else, he felt guilty for that. He wished he could keep the pain from Steve at least. It didn’t seem fair that they both had to feel it. Though he couldn’t deny that it had helped Steve find him faster; and had also helped them figure out how to get his head straight faster.
He loathed to think of what might have happened if someone had managed to activate the trigger words before they’d been able to remove them.
He glanced at Stark, at the frown on his face as he glanced from the arm, to his shoulder, to Steve. He watched the frown morph into outrage.
“Is this a joke to you?” he demanded, shocking Bucky with the intensity. Without the arm though, he overbalanced, and he felt himself starting to fall even as he flung his other arm out to catch himself. Stark tossed the arm, lunging forward to grab him and set him to rights before glaring furiously into his face. “Why didn’t you tell me it was so painful?” he burst out, anger colouring his cheeks pink. “I could’ve at least tried to be more gentle about it.”
“I’m used to it.” Bucky said with a shrug, but that only seems to make Stark angrier.
“Well I’m not. I’m going to have to put in a babysitting protocol.” He muttered, still enraged, and Bucky blinked at him.
“Why?”
“Because you obviously can’t be trusted to watch out for yourself, or Cap over there for that matter.” Stark looked between of them, rolling his eyes skyward. “Did you both forget the almost seizure-like pain that hit you both?”
At the dumb look they shared, Stark actually cursed.
“I can’t believe you’ve survived this long.” he mocked. “You both felt the same pain, at the same time, but nothing happened to either of you. What does that tell you?” for a split second, Bucky could only stare at Stark, before he turned horrified eyes on Steve. Stark was right; he had been feeling weird things lately; but he’d attributed it to getting his head on straight, and Steve being so in tune with him. He’d figured it was results of the intense brainwashing. To think that instead it could mean they had another soulmate? One who’d been feeling their worst pain all along? It made him want to throw up.
Sensing his distress, Steve moved right in, taking his hand before looking at Stark.
“How long have you known?”
Stark shrugged.
“I hadn’t really been thinking about it.” he admitted, which they both also understood, Stark often got lost in his projects. “Jarvis?”
“Fortunately, the worst signs were 2 months ago, with only minor occurrences since then.”
Bucky thought of all the pain he’d been in throughout his life; all the pain Steve had been through; and shuddered.
He looked at where his arm had been, at how painful those last moments had been, and felt the burn of tears in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” he all but croaked, and it was Stark who huffed out a breath.
“I’m not the one you should be worried about. Fact is, tracking things like pain is hard.”
Steve nodded, standing behind Bucky so the other man could lean into him, rubbing his shoulders sympathetically.
“I understand.” Steve responded, but Bucky could tell from the tightness of his grip that he was also worried about whoever this third person could be.
Not to mention; if those experiences had been a third; what did that say about their own experiences?
Bucky shuddered to imagine.
“It’s going to take me a few hours to make sure attaching the new arm won’t cause the same amount of pain as removing the last one.” Stark added then with another dark look, and Steve nodded.
“Of course.”
“Thanks.” Bucky managed to add, and Stark’s expression softened.
“Whatever. Just don’t get in my way.” and that was as much of an acceptance as they are going to get.
Even as he walked away, Bucky turned to look up at Steve, distraught, and Steve gave a tired sigh, closing his eyes briefly.
“I know, Buck. But what do you suggest?”
“You found me.” he pointed out, and Steve opened his eyes again, meeting Bucky’s gaze head on.
“I did.”
“Whoever it is, don’t you think they deserve for us to at least look for them?”
“They’re probably a lot younger than we are.”
“So what?” Bucky countered. “Most people are. What we’ve put them through? They at least deserve the choice.” Steve sighed at that, offering a wry smile.
“You’re right. Of course they do. What do you suggest?”
Even before Bucky could answer, a wind picked up, tearing at the equipment in the room.
“What the-” They heard Stark begin, moments before the suit shot forward, forming itself around the man.
A resounding boom like a thunderclap shook the room paired with a bright burst of light reminiscent of lightning had them all falling back, blinded. It was only thanks to Steve still behind him that Bucky didn’t hit the ground hard.
“Who the hell are you?” it was Stark’s voice that cut through their disoriented state, and when Bucky managed to push himself to a sitting position, Steve shifting protectively in front of him, what he saw had him staring in disbelief.
He saw a tiny creature, no more a foot and a half tall at most, with knobby limbs, ears the size of its head, a long hooked nose, wrinkly features, wearing no more than a pillowcase. Nothing about its appearance diminished the furious look in his eyes or the threatening finger it pointed at them.
“Yous be hurting my master and Kreacher won’t let you anymore. Master’s been hurt enough by the useless, filthy likes of you.” and that had Bucky’s gaze falling on the crumpled, unconscious figure behind the creature; a man with jet black hair, sharp features, and an ice pack clasped listlessly to his left shoulder.
With a click and a whir, Stark’s mask lifted.
“He looks like he needs help. Your master.” He said, surprisingly diplomatically, but going by the pale, drawn look on the unconscious man’s face, he wasn’t wrong.
“He needs to stop being hurt.” the creature accused. Stark put up his hands.
“Agreed on that. But over there, those are the two you’re looking for.”
The creature turned its huge, malicious eyes on them with even more fury. Then his eyes fell on Bucky’s shoulder. He looked instantly horrified.
“Yous - yous-”
“It’s okay,” Bucky tried to assure, putting up his flesh hand. “We’re going to fix it. Believe me, pal, it hurt me a lot more than it hurt him.” for a moment, he thought the creature was going to do whatever it had done to appear and hurl whatever energy it had created, but instead it just shuffled back to the unconscious man behind him, never removing his eyes from them. With a surprisingly gentle touch, he shook the man’s shoulder. There was a wash of energy through the room, though this time softer, and then the man opened his eyes.
Harry opened his eyes with a groan. The pain in his shoulder had subsided but now he had a splitting headache. He knew without even looking that he was on the floor, though he was surprised by how cold it felt under him. It hadn’t felt that way even moments before.
“Kreacher, what did you do?” he groaned out, blinking the blurriness from his vision. Even as he did so, he realized the ceiling he was looking at was not his own.
He shot up, ignoring the wave of nausea and dizziness that accompanied the sharp motion, staggering back into a defensive pose, wand out and ready. He caught sight of all 3 men; the one in the metal suit, the huge blond man standing at the ready, and the brunette behind him, sporting only one arm. He blinked to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, but didn’t lower his wand. His gaze flickered down to see Kreacher, watching him anxiously, and sighed.
“Kreacher, where are we?”
“Master was always in pain. Kreacher wanted to help.”
“How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?” he all but begged, because it was a lot, just now, all things considered. He looked towards the other men, desperate. “Where are we? We don’t want any trouble, we just want to go home.”
It was the blonde man who stepped forward, palms out.
“Why don’t we just talk about what happened, okay?” he suggested calmly, politely, but Harry still felt on edge. How in Merlin’s name had they even arrived here?
“I don’t know what happened.” Harry bit out. “One moment my shoulder was burning and the next-”
The realization hit him like a truck as he looked up at the man who’s left arm was missing at the shoulder. The realization that the pain, for the first time he could remember, had actually stopped.
“It stopped.” he breathed, looking at where the arm should be. “I can’t feel it. It stopped.”
Bucky and Steve shared a look at the words; at the implication that whoever this man was, he’d been able to feel even the considerably lighter burn of injury of Bucky’s shoulder all this time. They watched the man glance down at the thing he’d called Kreacher in bewilderment.
“Did you - did you bring me to them?” he asked, voice soft, almost tremulous. Kreacher nodded. Those impossibly green eyes looked back up, and recognition was finally starting to filter in. “I know you.” he said then, frowning in concentration. His gaze shot to Stark first.
“You’re Tony Stark. My best mate’s mad about you. Says your technology is changing the way we recognize the world.” Stark actually blinked at that, nearly taken aback, because there was a deeper implication there; something about how he said ‘the world’ that implied a different scope than they were used to.
“And you’re Steve Rogers. Captain America, right?” Steve nodded.
“I am.”
“Which makes you Bucky Barnes. Previously the Winter Soldier.” there was no judgment in his voice, nothing to give away his feelings.
“Yes. That’s right.”
“You two are already soulmates.” he said then, something broken in his gaze, and that’s when Stark’s suit completely slid off, folding back into itself.
The man jerked back in surprise, the creature in front of him wagging a finger threateningly once more.
“Trios are rare but they exist.” Stark said point blank, causing the man to blink once more. They could practically see his mind racing behind his eyes. They all knew how rare it was to be a bond of 3; how impossible the odds. Neither he nor Steve liked the look of defeat in the man’s eyes that said he wasn’t surprised his life was this difficult. The stick he’d been pointing out at them lowered as his hand dropped to his side.
“Do you really think-” and there was a tentative hope blooming behind guarded eyes.
“One way to find out for sure.” Stark pointed out and all eyes cut to him, unamused. He threw up his hands in defence. The man shook his head.
“No, there’s an easier way. Nearly a decade ago, when I was in my 5th year, I had a repeated injury on my hand.” He didn’t specify which, but it was clear Steve knew exactly what he was talking about from how his jaw clenched. Bucky looked up at him, curiously, and Steve shook his head.
“It was on his left hand, Buck. You wouldn’t’ve felt it.” then he looked at the man, jaw set, strangely angry. “You had words carved into the back of your hand.” Bucky looked over in horror, at how the man’s hand actually clenched in reaction, bringing the scars into relief. He understood now why Steve was so angry.
“How old were you?” Bucky asked, horrified. The man flinched but didn’t look away.
“15.”
the creature had moved then, tugging gently on the man’s pant leg. The man looked down, expression one of exhaustion.
“That was a lot of energy to get us here, Kreacher. Have you enough to get back?” the creature nodded, grip tight on the man’s legs.
“Master does not want to stay with soulmates?” hearing the words so starkly like that had everyone pausing.
“It’s not that.” the man said then, glancing at them with such a fierce longing in his eyes that it was nearly tangible before looking back down at Kreacher. “But I don’t know if now’s the time.”
“Now’s as good a time as any.” Bucky interrupted, standing carefully. He shook off Steve’s offer for help, not breaking eye contact with the man. “What’s wrong with now?” the man stared; surprised; hesitant. Bucky pushed on. “Seems like fate wouldn’t just toss you into a room with us for no reason.” The man had nothing to say to that, staring between them. He finally looked to Stark of all people for help who scoffed.
“Don’t look at me, kid. I don’t know how you got in here but I intend to find out.”
“My name’s Harry.” was the sour reply, obviously not appreciating being called a kid.
“To me, you’re a kid.” Stark pointed out, and Harry shook his head, exasperated.
“Somehow I don’t think physical age should be the only thing counted towards life experience.” was the immediate reply, but it had lost all of the sharpness. He looked back to Bucky and Steve, tucking the stick away.
“Okay, hold on, is nobody going to address the fact that he has a stick?”
“It’s a wand.” Harry corrected immediately, causing Stark’s jaw to drop open.
“I’m sorry, a what now?”
“A wand.” he brandished it again, giving a flick of his wrist. From the tip of the wand, a sparkling mist appeared, coalescing into butterflies that whispered through the air before bursting into little fireworks of colour. “For magic.” and now Harry looked smug, green eyes sparkling.
“You’ve got super soldiers and mutants and aliens, and if I do recall, there is in fact a witch on your team. Why is this so surprising?”
“She doesn’t do anything like that.”
“Well we wouldn’t actually call what she does magic. In fact I have a friend or two who’s a bit offended by the implication that she’s a witch when clearly she’s a mutant.” everyone was just staring at Harry who pushed his shoulders back, chin coming forward. “Is this going to be a problem?”
“No.” Steve cut in, instant, firm, and sure. Harry’s shoulders lowered a notch. “A surprise, yes. A problem, never.” Then he finally took a step forward, glancing warily at Kreacher who watched him with narrow, suspicious eyes. He offered Harry a hand. “I’m sorry it took so long to meet.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know.” Harry hedged, but Steve didn’t drop his hand.
“That goes both ways.” Bucky joined in, slowly making his way over, taking his time so as not to overbalance himself.
“I’m - I’m often in a lot of trouble.” Harry admitted then, and Bucky actually laughed.
“Then you came to the right place, welcome to the Avengers headquarters, Harry.”
Harry’s eyes widened at that, gaze darting back to Stark who rolled his eyes but nodded.
“I’m going back to work on the arm. Try not to break anything in the mean time. And no magic. I want to run tests.” Harry flinched at that which had Stark freezing, turning back with a dark look. “Just some wand waving for the camera, kid. Nothing serious.” Harry nodded, looking a bit sheepish, but nobody commented. Not yet.
Steve’s hand was still extended and Harry looked at it.
“Are you sure?” he murmured, and Steve and Bucky exchanged a look, offering Harry soft smiles.
“Absolutely.”
Harry took his hand. The pain of his headache drained out of him so swiftly it left him weak in the knees. When he looked up, he was blinking back tears. Steve looked shell-shocked and Bucky was blinking rapidly, having stumbled into Steve.
When they all looked back at each other, Harry offered a luminous smile.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.”