Apparently, taking a 4 year leave of absence from writing throws me back in to crossover one-shots. Written because of rabid plot bunnies and a severe lack of sleep while waiting for End Game to show up.

I own nothing, I'm just mucking in someone else's litterbox.

One shot, complete, though I may continue as a series at some point. Anonymous reviews and flames are fed to Sarlacc, I reply to everything else.

Rescuing Harry

Harry Potter is the Savior of the Wizarding world. Or so they said.

If anyone had told him, he wouldn't have understood anyway. He was a smidgeon too little for that revelation, and his life wasn't exactly an easy one.

In the mornings, he was let out of his cupboard under the stairs. He was of the opinion that all little boys lived in a cupboard and Dudley was just too fat to fit in one. In the morning, Uncle Vernon opened the lock and then he would run to the loo super-duper fast, because he wasn't allowed to wee in his cupboard. Peeing in his cot was Big Trouble. He had a scar on his leg from the one and only time he had to learn that lesson.

At least he was a fast learner. At the ripe old age of 4 (Aunt Petunia was in the habit of using his age as an insult. 'You're 4 years old now. You should know how to fry bacon, you lazy thing!' 'You're 4 years old now, you should be easily able to weed the garden yourself!'), he hadn't had much time to learn anything, but staying away from being beat was one lesson he only needed once. Unfortunate then that the rules for such avoidance changed by the whim of his relatives, especially when Dudley liked to take away the little stool he stood on at the stove by kicking it out from under his feet. Harry wasn't overly fond of Dudley.

The times when he was out of his cupboard, any happiness he had remaining from his dreams was always immediately stripped away. Three hours of possible cuts, guaranteed new bruises, a burn or two, and non-stop belittling and insults later, he was frog-marched back in to his cupboard, though the locks were not put on until bed time. In his cupboard, he was at least content, though stressed. It was his little place of all his own and no one went inside, except to reach in and yank him back out. Only Uncle Vernon did that – usually by grabbing him by the hair. Aunt Petunia just yelled at him until he walked out on his own. She didn't like to touch him.

On the very rare times that their old neighbour lady, Mrs. Figg, came over to babysit, Harry was locked in his cupboard and threatened to not make a single sound, and he never did. He was very good at keeping silent. He learned that excess verbiage usually got him smacked and therefore it was on his list of things to do or not to avoid such. He'd also learned that all verbiage from him was excessive, so he typically was pretty silent.

All other times, they took Dudley with them and locked Harry in the cupboard. Their record abandonment so far was 4 days. They were the best and the worst 4 days of his life and while he sobbed through much of the first day, he actually found it nice thereafter, though the pot they gave him to use for a bathroom stank to high heaven and made him choke. He was so terribly hungry though. They'd left him a small jug of water and a half of a loaf of freezer-burned bread. As a little tyke, he had no concept of rationing and his bread did not last long. He'd never been given so much at once before!

Not one day in his little life had passed though, without him wishing super hard for someone to rescue him. He prayed to the walls, begged the floor, cried in to his blanket and believed with his whole heart that someday, someone would rescue him, somehow, and maybe he would have a day where he didn't hurt or was hurt. Just maybe, he would have a day where he wasn't so hungry he wanted to throw up.

Harry was a boy of hope after all, and hope was all he had. Dudley couldn't steal that from him.

Harry Potter's eyes flew open, instantly awake. There wasn't anything to see, per se. His cupboard under the stairs wasn't exactly bursting with free space. He knew from the lack of light bleeding through the gap at the doorjamb that it was still night.

So, what woke him up? Typically, it was Dudley sneaking down the stairs to raid the fridge, only to attempt to blame Harry on it in the morning. Much of this was blamed on Harry's 'freakishness'. After all, shouldn't magic be able to get locks on cupboards undone and then relocked again? No mention of the fact that the leftover scraps could easily be found in Dudley's bedroom.

Harry tried to keep his breathing even. The last thing he wanted was Uncle Vernon to come after him at night, which he was wont to do from time to time. Harry's arm still hurt from the last thumping, and two of his fingers weren't working all that well. Breathing as still as possible, he still couldn't hear anything.

Then there it was – an extremely brief scrape of a chair on the lino floor in the kitchen followed by a word that would have resulted in Harry getting slapped. Dudley. Again. Harry sighed in resignation. He'd be in trouble again in the morning with something blamed on him, but after breakfast. Nothing interrupted breakfast making in the morning!

There was a light scuff sound on the floor, then footsteps heading towards the hallway. Harry got very still. Those footsteps were not Dudley or Uncle's footsteps. These were light and being careful. Aunt Petunia didn't sneak around her own house.

The steps came closer and Harry felt a chill of fear run up his back and into his hair. He didn't dare sit up off his cot lest he make some sounds. Someone was in the house and he had no idea who. As a little boy who spent 90% of his waking hours and all of his sleeping ones in that cupboard, his hearing was pretty good and knew all of the sounds of the house.

"Where to?" a voice whispered, then silence for a moment, followed by, "Straight ahead. Got it." The footsteps came right to the outside of the door.

Harry felt ill with fear. There was no way that voice belonged to his relatives. It was a man, for sure, and he was talking to someone who was telling him where to go. The bolt on the outside of his door started to slide back and the door was slowly opened. Poor little Harry wasn't sure if he should run, fight, cry or scream.

Then he saw who opened the door. It was a man who looked a little bit like Harry, but he was a bit too frightened to realise that. Harry braced himself for being dragged out by his hair or hit, and squeezed his eyes shut tight.

The man's face and nose wrinkled in brief disgust, but he crouched low to the ground and waited for the little boy to open his eyes. Unfortunately, this particular man wasn't known for being patient nor parental.

"Hey kid. Open your eyes. You wanna get outta here?"

Those 5 words had Harry's green eyes flying open immediately, with a look of complete surprise on his face. He took a good look at the man before him who had said those ludicrous words. Did his cries of help get heard? Whomever the man was, he was down on Harry's level and Harry thought he was the nicest looking man he'd ever seen. Where his uncle & cousin were rotund and soft, this man was all hard angles and lean with a precise goatee. Harry nodded his assent. He had no one who cared about him enough to teach him not to go away with strangers and the alternative was to stay put.

The man spoke again. "I need you to say out loud that you'll come with me, okay buddy? It's important for words right now. Will you come with me?"

Harry was confused, but a small "Yes sir," was whispered out. The man grinned.

"Good." He tapped a device at his ear. "Nat, tell Legolas we're coming out." The man quickly reached forward to pick Harry up, but retreated immediately. His target had flinched hard and ducked. "F…ridges," he muttered. He might not be parental, but Pepper would clobber him if he F-bombed in front of a preschooler, even if he immediately understood the reason why the kid flinched. He sat right on the floor and softened his tone.

"Hey kid. Harry." Using the kid's name got an immediate head lift and wide-eyed stare. It was extremely rare he was called by that name! "My name is Tony. I'm here to take you away from this place. From the looks (and smell, he thought) of this hole you're sleeping in, I promise you we can do better. We don't have a lot of time. Whaddya say, come with me, okay?" Tony held his hand out but didn't reach far.

Harry's eyes narrowed a bit. He might be 4, but he was a pretty smart cookie. He could make breakfast and could count to at least 20, and Dudley couldn't. He was also smart enough to know when something sounded pretty good. Getting away sounded really good. He carefully put his blanket down, nodded at Tony again and this time, stood up, though a bit wobbly on his feet.

As Harry stood up, Tony slowly got up as well, but stayed crouched. When Harry got close enough, Tony reached out for him again, only this time with the posture one would to a wary and hurt dog. "C'mon, we gotta go kid. I'm sorry, but please don't freak out."

Harry heard the word 'freak' and panicked. He reared his head back and started to run back in to his cupboard, but Tony was bigger and faster and was being told in his ear that they were out of time. Tony scooped Harry up in to his arms and closed the door behind them. Harry started to put up a bit of a fight with grunts and growls and was about to open his mouth to bite when Tony opened the front door and Harry froze.

Standing just outside the front door was the weirdest thing he'd ever seen in his short little life. There was a red and gold suit of armor, standing there empty with a glowing palm up and aimed at the door. Harry ceased his struggles immediately as he faced what he could only conceive as a nightmare.

Tony put him down and stepped in to the armor in one smooth move. The armor closed in on him and with only seconds having passed, picked Harry up again.

"There is a magical signature being picked up just outside the perimeter Fury outlined, sir," Jarvis relayed to Tony. "Clint has already retreated. Director Fury has requested you fly young sir straight to the Quinjet. They've left the door open for you."

"Perfect. Harry, you need to hang on to me very tight, two hands, don't let go." Harry complied, then Tony took to the air, staying low. Flying with just his boots wasn't always the easiest, so hopefully the kid could hang on so he could use his hand stabilizers. He glanced down at his young charge expecting a panicked little face. Instead, Harry's eyes were wide in delight. 'Hunh, the kid likes flying. Too bad we can't show off a bit.' Tony thought, but focused on his mission. With magic users closing in, he didn't dare risk being shorted out. He was pretty sure the ARC was insulated far better, but there was still enough electricity in his systems, it wasn't worth the risk.

The flight was very short and the Quinjet took off the second Tony and Harry cleared the hatch door. A quick "Package secured" from Clint, and they were off.

Tony went to put Harry down to exit his suit, but Harry hung on with his right arm, and he buried his face in to Iron Man's neck. Tony put his faceplate up to avoid the metallic voice while speaking with Harry.

"Hey, little guy. I need to put you down for a sec, just like last time, okay?" and Tony did so, Harry refusing to turn around to look anywhere else. Tony stepped out of his suit and picked Harry up by his armpits, then dropped in to a seat with a thud.

When he did so, there was a small little whimper from Harry, and he buried his face in to Tony's neck. Clint's eyes narrowed and he made eye contact with Tony. "Is he hurt?"

"What? No. We came straight here." Tony lifted his head up a bit to take a closer look at the terrified little boy. "Hey bud, sit back for a sec," and he peeled Harry away. Green eyes looked back at him with a slew of emotions, but there were signs now that he was a bit flushed, and Tony couldn't help but notice the obvious. In the short bit of time that they'd had Harry, it dawned on Tony that the little gaffer hadn't used his left arm, not even to hang on when they were flying.

"Jarvis, run a health scan on Harry." Harry had no idea who Jarvis was, but Jarvis answered, "Yes sir. Stand by." Harry's eyes flicked up to see where Mr. Jarvis was, but couldn't see him. From the ceiling, a small beam of light shot out and lit up Harry's back, not that he saw with his head laying on Tony's shoulder. The light scanned him quickly and was gone. "Analyzing, sir. One moment."

After a moment where Clint moved to the front to update Natalie on what was going on, Jarvis said, "Scan complete. The list is somewhat lengthy, and I've forwarded it to your phone." Tony frowned at the odd instruction and fished in his pocket for his StarkPhone.

It was already lit up with Jarvis' report. He now understood why his trusty AI hadn't spoken the details out loud. Tony took a steadying breath. He was in high danger of yelling and frightening the hell outta the kid, and after scanning the report, his temper was the last thing this kid needed. Hell, this kid was gonna be in therapy for a decade.

After the second deep breath in dire hope of keeping his temper in check, Clint looked back and saw Tony's livid face. His eyebrows went up and Tony flicked his phone at Barton, which the archer easily caught.

"Holy f…rozen cans of soup.' The list was absurd. When the mission had been assigned by Fury, they were not given much information as to why they were kidnapping a 4 year old kid, other than the three of them being given a crash course in Magicals and the Statute of Secrecy.

Clint didn't a damn anymore as to why. The kid had been abused, plain and simple. Severely. He was running a fever, his wrist was broken along with a couple of fingers, and without even looking at the report, Clint knew the kid needing some feeding up, but his nutrition levels were non-existent – and that was just the start.

"Clint?" asked Natasha. "What's the story?" Clint looked up at her with an angry look where she was in the pilot's chair.

"Get medical on standby. The kid's gonna need some help when we land." Romanov didn't even question her long-time partner and called it in while Clint moved back to Tony and Harry.

Harry could not see where they were coming in to land the plane, other than it appeared to be a platform in the sky. He was so very tired and curious and scared, all at the same time. It made his tummy flutter and ache.

Mr. Tony, the flying tin man, had big strong arms and he smelled way more nice than his cupboard. Sorta like motor oil and something kinda spicy. Mr. Tony didn't yank on his arms much or throw him when he'd put Harry down and he didn't hurt too much when he picked him back up. He was okay in Harry's book.

He still couldn't find Mr. Jarvis though. Mr. Jarvis was the only one who didn't talk funny, but Harry didn't see him in the airplane. Maybe Mr. Jarvis was flying it? Harry's thoughts kept him occupied for quite some time, but even though Mr. Tony started to snore a bit, Harry stayed awake. He wasn't sure what was going on but didn't want to risk sleeping yet.

Harry was jolted out of his thoughts as the jet landed and Tony stood up, cradling Harry in his arms. The hatch door swung down and Tony, leaving his armor behind, started down the gangplank flanked by Black Widow and Hawkeye.

Tony hovered his hand over Harry's eyes. "Careful, Little Bit, the sun is bright – we're not in England anymore. Let your eyes adjust." And adjust they did! After a few seconds, Harry moved his head out from behind Tony's hand and peered around.

They were on some huge platform surrounded by clouds! What a wonder that was to see! He'd never been much out of his cupboard, let alone the house. To be on a place in the sky! It was incredible to see and Harry let out a little gasp at the realization he was in the sky with the sun coming up.

From behind Tony & Harry, Clint saw Harry's little face light up with wonder. "It's something, ain't it Squirt?" and reached forward to ruffle the little boy's filthy mop of hair.

Harry nodded his head and Tony laughed. "Wait 'till I take you for a real fly!" Harry's eye widened and he pointed with his good hand back at the Quinjet. "Yeah, with the suit, not a jet." Tony confirmed.

Harry liked that idea very much! He grinned a full out toothy grin at Tony, which the three Avengers happily returned – even Natasha seemed to be warming up to the little boy a bit.

Tony laughed and gently tickled Harry, which made him chuff in glee. "I could get used to that grin, Little Man!"

Clint grinned back at the pair and the foursome started to head towards the bulkhead doors. Harry caught Natasha's eyes and she made a silly face at him. He tucked his head into Tony's neck, but was grinning.

Tony motioned towards his teammates. "Harry, that birdbrain there is Clint and that," he stopped when the red-headed spy quirked an eyebrow at him and he decided he'd best play nice, for now. "She is buckets of awesome and not deadly at all. That's Natasha."

Harry looked at both of the S.H.I.E.L.D agents and waved shyly at them.

Suddenly, his eyes flew open wide with terror as he spotted the medical team racing towards the Quinjet at full tilt, a gurney rattling along with them.

The three Avengers looked & spotted Harry's problem pretty quick. Clint notched an arrow to his bow and neatly shot a flash-bang right at their feet.

"That's enough!" he hollered out at them. Tony hugged Harry's shaking and struggling body to his and tried to prevent the little boy from dropping to the ground. "You're scaring the crap outta the kid, you morons!"

The medics quickly came to a stop. No one was stupid enough to take on a single Avenger, least of all, the three of them together, Iron Man suit or not. And who knew where the others were?

Tony tried desperately to quell Harry's flight or fight instinct but with no success. The boy was in full blown panic attack, his little grunts and squeaks were upsetting to everyone on the tarmac that could hear them.

Tony hung on for dear life as Harry started chanting, "NO! No! Nonononononono!"

Just as both Clint & Natasha moved closer to see if they could help, there was a loud snap and Tony's arms were empty – the boy was gone.

"The hell was that?!" bellered Clint. Tony was equally astounded at his suddenly empty arms and Nat was scanning the area around them with a determined look on her face.

"Spread out," ordered Tony. "We're miles in the air. He'll get killed if he goes off the edge." The enraged billionaire stomped over to where the medical team were looking rather shocked at each other and feeling pretty guilty for it. "And you morons do exactly the opposite of what you just did. I now have a panicked and injured child on a flying ship of destruction." The entire medical team backed up slowly. Angry Avengers were way above their pay grade.

Tony stuck his hand out towards the Quinjet and called to his suit.

Nothing happened. 15 seconds later, he was still standing there with his arm hanging out.

He called to his suit a second time, glancing at his bracelet. It was dead. "The hell?" he wondered. "It shouldn't have shorted out so soon."

The billionaire grumped at his tech and stalked back to the Quinjet, while his teammates started searching the deck.

"Jarvis," Tony called once he got inside the jet. "The hell is going on…" Tony's voice faded off as Jarvis cut in.

"Sir, I was unable to deploy due to circumstances beyond my control. I've had to do a reboot and a full diagnostic." The AI sounded uncharacteristically confused and embarrassed.

"Jarvis?" Tony queried. "Explain."

"Your suit, Mr. Stark, has a new resident, for a lack of a better description. Refer to the dash monitor. Of note, it is the only one that hasn't shorted out. The effect is similar to a low level EMP, of which origin I've yet to determine. I am guessing from Mr. Potter's transportation."

EMP? Transportation? Tony was having a hard time believing that. His ARC Reactor was relatively immune to that, but now that he was paying attention, he realised that much of the Quinjet's tech was flickering or in the process of rebooting. One monitor, close to his suit, was completely fried and lightly smoking.

Tony walked over to the display, which flickered on and the surveillance video started to play.

Tony could hear and see the conversation outside repeating to where Harry disappeared. The view switched to inside the Quinjet and Tony saw, in the most fractured of moments, a quick streak of something hit his Iron Man suit.

He looked at his suit suspiciously. "Jarvis, open it up," he commanded. The AI relayed the command to the suit and it cracked open, albeit fractionally.

"Sir, if I open it up fully, he will tumble out." Lo and behold, tucked down in one leg of the suit, was the little boy, unconscious.

"Oh hell," muttered Tony. "Let the others know we have him. Remote fly him straight to the base, Jarvis. Slowly and carefully." Tony didn't want to risk lifting the exhausted boy out of the suit.

"Yes sir." The suit fired it's stabilizer jets and gently lifted off, staying as vertical as possible. Tony walked beside his suit and down the gangplank as Natasha and Clint reached him.

Natasha's face was puzzled as she looked at the odd procession. It wasn't every day one saw Tony Stark walking beside his suit instead of being in it.

Tony answered the unasked question. "He's in the suit, passed clean out from terror. We need him in the infirmary, stat." Both spies nodded and fell in to step.

As they drew closer (with one of the medics from before who sheepishly fell in step with them) to the main door, a figure in black peeled away from where he was leaning against the wall.

Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD, was an intimidating man, at the best of times. Today was no different. "Report," he barked out, as he held open the large door for the suit to pass through.

Agent Romanoff responded. "Sir, target acquired. To our knowledge, we were not seen and we were not pursued. We did see three Mag targets closing in, but the wards did not allow them closer. There was a fourth who came up to the edge of the ward line and stopped, but did not enter." She pointed with her chin towards the suit. "Target was scanned by Jarvis and is injured. He panicked and is hiding in Iron Man's leg, though unconscious."

At the odd statement, Fury looked over at Tony's suit. "Stark, tell me how a four-year-old came to be hiding inside a suit even the military has a hard time getting to listen to them, even WITH your permission."

Tony shrugged. "Search me. Well, don't, I'm ticklish and I'm not ready to take our relationship to that level." Fury sighed with impatience while Clint smirked. "One second he was in my arms having a panic attack induced by your medical attack squad, the next he was gone, and Jarvis wasn't responding."

"I was shorted out along with much of the Quinjet, Director," Jarvis added helpfully. "While I was unable to measure any fluctuations, there was a brief, albeit large, spike in the EM wavelength that I was unable to measure. I am uncertain if I can even measure the wavelength it was on. My systems automatically reset at that time."

"Effing magic," muttered Fury. The group reached the medical bay and walked over to a bed where five other medics were waiting, though they were eyeballing the three Avengers rather warily.

Tony waved them off with his hands flapping. "Shoo!" he motioned, like he was waving flies away. "Shoo! Too many minions. If the kid is awake, you'll scare the hell outta him again. Back up!" Fury nodded at his medical staff and all except the medic that walked in with them backed away obediently.

"Alright Jarvis – slowly." With a soft hiss and pop, Tony's Iron Man suit peeled open to the waist, revealing it's precious cargo. Harry was awake, evidenced by his tear-streaked face turned up at the sudden light.

"Phew! The kid needs a bath!" griped the medic beside Tony. All three Avengers and Tony's half-opened suit turned towards the man in disbelief at the statement. The medic, with the identifying name tag of 'Elliot' started to back up rapidly.

"Idiot, is it?" Tony asked sarcastically, pretending to squint at the man's name tag. "Oh, sorry there Elliot. Idiot, Elliot, pretty close. Was there something you were saying? I encourage you to repeat it." The look on Tony's face made Elliot wish he'd worn cleaner underwear today, as he was certain he was going to be killed any moment. Tony Stark was not a huge man. Just barely over 6'0, but all lean muscle, he was not as vulnerable without his suit as one might think.

Elliot swallowed hard. "My apologies. Truly Mr. Stark. He's a cute kid, just caught me off guard is all." He put his hands up in surrender. "I meant no harm. He needs help. Let me help." Elliot licked his lips in sheer nerves but did not break eye contact with Stark.

Tony started him down for a moment, then clapped his hand on the SHIELD medic's shoulder and squeezed. "All good! All good." The grip intensified, but Elliot did not dare to move. "We need medical help. I like you. You will help." One last painful squeeze, then Tony let go. "The Hulk needs a friend anyway. I'll introduce you."

Clint barked out a quick laugh and his partner grinned. "C'mon," said Nat. "Let get the poor kid out."

Tony was back to all business. "Jarvis, leg open, as slow as you can. I'll play catch." Just as Tony finished speaking, there was a sniffle from down the suit's legs and a pair of green eyes were peering up them all.

Harry was completely overwhelmed. He was very tightly wedged in to the leg of the Tin Man's suit and his little feet hurt an awful lot. His one foot in particular was terribly cramped and achy, like when Dudley would stomp it.

He badly wanted to burst in to tears but he took a shuddering breath and put his little arm up towards Tony's concerned face. Crying got him in trouble, and he wouldn't cry.

Tony's heart was aching, and not due to having used too little silicon on his ARC reactor either. He couldn't resist the fact that Harry seemed to at least marginally trust him. He reached down and carefully put his hands under the boy's armpits and started to lift him out.

The moment Harry was clear, the pain was far too much and his sniffling turned to shuddery crying, which simply made Tony hug him securely and started to rub Harry's back – and stopped immediately at Harry's barely concealed wince.

Clint slowly came over. The father in him was just as disturbed as Tony seemed to be. If this was one of his kids, he'd kill whomever caused the pain. There was a reason his kids were his deepest secret. He would end anyone who compromised their safety.

"Hey Tiger. I betcha you're sick of the noise & people, hunh?" Harry nodded, his little nose scrunched up. He was very obviously uncomfortable. "You're a brave little tyke for putting up with so much. I bet you'd like it if it was a bit darker in here and not so many weird strangers, yeah?"

Harry lifted his head from Tony's shoulder and nodded again. Clint carefully approached a little closer. "Nat, Tony and I were sent to rescue you. You don't ever have to go back to that place. I know you've had people probably promise you things before, but we keep our promises here, and all three of us promise to never let you back in that house again. Right guys?" he asked, without taking his gaze off Harry.

Harry looked at the other two Avengers. The scary lady, Nat, she smiled at him a little and nodded her head. Tony touched just under his chin and said, "Champ, Legolas is right. You're ours now. You'll get looked after, be warm, have a bed, baths, food, toys, whatever you want, you'll have it. Your days at that house with those," Tony tried to find a child-appropriate word, "…relatives, will never happen again. Ever. I swear."

Harry's eyes started to water a little as he took all three of them in, like he was measuring them up. "Never?" his little scratchy voice warbled out.

"Never. We promise." Nat emphatically said. She had all the maternal instincts of a bar of soap but hurting kids wasn't going to be on her ledger any time soon.

Tony hummed his agreement. "Whaddya say kid? We tell all these people to go away except Idiot, er, I mean Elliot, and we get to fix up your arm so it's not hurting. Deal?" Tony took it as a personal victory that Harry nearly laughed and had even cracked a small grin at Tony's deliberate nickname for Elliot, even if Elliot was glowering at Tony.

No words, just a nod from Harry was all it took. All of the unessential people were dismissed by Fury until the only ones left were the three Avengers, their young charge and Elliot the Idiot Medic. Fury melted in to the shadows near the door that were left by the lowering of the lights and kept guard from there.

Tony sat Harry on the bed and couldn't believe the little creep's trust in them. Poor kid that he'd trust this strange lot over his relatives, which just went to show just how messed up his short little life was.

"Ready, Freddy?" He asked, & gently ruffled Harry's hair. "Mr. Blue Coveralls is going to give you a lookover. We'll be right here. He won't hurt you. Clint will stick him with an arrow if he does, okay?"

Harry grinned a little and Barton waggled his eyebrows at him. The kid was alright in his books. Even with what was probably a frightening day for him, he was still grinning when it was nearly over. Tough little guy.

The medic moved in and started muttering to Harry about what he was doing. It seemed to work, as Harry stayed calm for the start of the exam and looked up at Tony now and then, just to make sure he was still there.

Every once in awhile, it looked like Harry was going to flee or oddly enough, bite, but he stayed put and silent, even when a bigger machine was rolled over.

Tony and Clint kept Harry distracted while Natasha had retreated to the shadows to debrief with Director Fury.

After what seemed to be forever to Harry's way of thinking, the medic stepped away with a sigh. He motioned to Tony and they walked over to where Widow and Fury were talking quietly. Clint stayed with Harry and without a word to the boy, drew an arrow from his quiver and tried to explain it in little boy terms to him.

"Well?" inquired Fury. "What are we looking at here?" Even with one eye, the guy could intimidate better than anyone and Elliot tried not to shrink.

"Well," he started. "It's good and horrid, and by good, I mean horrid."

A soft giggle from Harry caused all four to glance in his direction. Clint was balancing the tip of his arrow on his fingertip, while making cross-eyed silly faces at Harry.

Tony grinned at the pair but was immediately serious. "Explain. We know he's in bad shape, despite his miraculously decent mood at the moment, which probably speaks to the problem anyway. Any normal kid would be screaming his head off. You can't tell us he's not in pain." Tony looked beyond frustrated and worried, not something anyone was used to seeing on his face unless electronics were involved. "Hell, what kind of kid lets himself wander off with strangers to a Helicarrier without batting an eyelash?" They could all easily agree that Harry was a tad off-kilter from the statistical norm. "Pretty sure I've carried around books at MIT that weigh more than he does," Stark concluded.

Elliot handed over a hastily created folder to Fury, but Tony was faster and snatched it. Fury sighed and Nat rolled her eyes, but they both knew that Tony wouldn't be dissuaded, and it was pointless to argue with him. With Stark, one had to pick their battles carefully when he was in the mood to be stubborn.

"Broken. Broken. Broken. Effing broken. Not set. Stabbed?!" the genius was rapidly muttering to himself. "The hell has this kid survived? Being in a car while it's smushed to a five inch cube?"

"That's exactly it, Mr. Stark." Tony looked away from the folder and turned his attention to Elliot. Fury took the opportunity to relieve Stark of the folder and look through it. "He shouldn't have. He should be dead. I'd love to do more tests but I don't know how much more the little guy can take. He needs more testing, but he's, well, I have a little girl his age. She outweighs him by a good 10 pounds or more. He's miles behind in physical development. I would rip someone apart if someone touched her like this." Tony looked at him appreciatively. "Don't get me started on emotional development. The kid should be screaming in pain and terror or at least have any other emotion than being this disconnected."

Tony sighed. "Okay. I like you more now, medic man. And yeah, I'd like to see him get what he needs, but the kid is about done for today, probably." A soft cough from Clint and Fury pointed with his chin to where Harry was. "Look. Quietly."

They turned and tried not to gape. With his good hand, Harry had Clint's arrow, only Harry wasn't touching it. It was dancing in the air. His little face was scrunched up in concentration, the tiny tip of his tongue sticking out of his lips.

Clint was doing everything he could not to react and stop Harry from doing, well, whatever he was doing. Elliot wasn't so successful on his face, but at least managed to keep his mouth shut. Tony looked back at Fury and noticed that the Director didn't appear to be too totally shocked at what he was seeing. Tony's brain went in to overdrive as he tried to sort out what he was seeing. It wasn't even remotely logical.

Sure, they'd seen things, but from Thor & Loki. This kid was a kid. "Is he Asgardian?" He quietly asked Fury.

"No. Not that I'm aware of. We're getting in to a level of classified that no one here was supposed to see just yet. I'll brief you later on that though." Tony opened his mouth to rapid-fire some more questions, but Fury cut him off. "Stash it, Stark. You'll have what you're after, later. No hacking will find this. It's not on any electronic system."

'Challenge accepted,' thought Tony and started making mental plans on how to locate & access Fury's paper files.

Elliot got back to business, despite wanting to watch the kid a little more, weirdness and all. "Look. The truth is, I need to put the kid right out. His bone structure looks like he went through a trash compactor backwards, but despite how he's acting now, he's weak. He's insanely underweight, which I know we all can easily see."

"So," said Tony, "We feed the kid up for a little bit, then fix everything. Done." Tony shrugged. Wasn't that big of a deal to figure that out, in his mind.

"Yes and no." Elliot fired back. "I'm not sure he will eat, for starters. He's been starved. His body isn't used to food whatsoever. It's going to be hell to get him to eat on a schedule. He should be sitting at about 1700-2000 calories a day, for a normal and active 4-year-old. It'll be a miracle if he's been getting 300 a day. That's less than 10% of what he needs. We're SHIELD. We don't do underfed kids. I mean, we can throw him in the infirmary for the next two months, but this isn't a place for a kid." Elliot paused a moment before continuing. "He doesn't know how to properly socialize. From the time you got to his house in England to bringing him here, he hasn't once asked to go to the bathroom, yawned or asked for something to eat. The kid is gonna collapse, but I can't explain why he hasn't already."

The truth of Harry Potter was starting to dawn on the adults in the room.

"We'll take him to the Tower," Tony heard someone abruptly say. Four other heads turned sharply, and Tony found them all staring at him. Apparently, he was the crazy nutjob who just offered to take a 4-year-old to one of the biggest targets in NYC for bad guys to attempt to destroy. For the first time in a long time, he had nothing to add. No smart comment. "He needs us. I'm not letting him in to the foster system. He's a statistic waiting to happen, and every one of us knows it," He defended quickly before someone started arguing.

Fury sighed. "Look, Stark. That's not-"

"Wrong. That's exactly how it'll happen." Tony was getting angry that everyone seemed to think he'd grown a third head. "He goes in to the system, terrified of being hit or asking for something, and eventually, he'll act out or cave in. He'll be someone the police will be arresting and throwing in to juvie hall or he'll suicide out before he's 13, and you damned well know it." Tony stopped for a second, and realised that he completely believed what he was saying. He wasn't a genius for nothing, but he was also notorious for bending facts to make things appear his direction. There was no bending this one.

Widow leaned towards him with a curious look on her face. "What's the kid done to you, Stark?" She said softly. "Why did you let him in your head? You can't be staying up for days on end in a bipolar high and then top it off with a whisky binge. He'll just become the exact statistic you quoted, and it'll be your fault. Not a single one of the Avengers can be there all the time, including yourself. We all have targets on our head. You can't protect him from that."

Clint nodded in agreement, his ears picking up the conversation while taking his arrow back from a disappointed Harry. He replaced it with a pair of infrared goggles and Harry was all smiles once again as he tried to figure out the new 'toy'. "We just finally managed to scrub Manhattan of the stench of Loki, and you wanna bring a kid there?" Barton interjected. "That's effed up, Stark."

Harry popped the goggles over his head and Clint could hear a soft, "Woah, cool!" come from the little boy. Natasha smirked at the pair. Apparently, SHIELD goggles that cost more than most in the USA made in a year were the new toy of choice.

"Yeah, I do." Tony glared at Fury. "You knew this was going to happen, Patch. You knew I couldn't say know to a kid like this. None of us could. Hell, Banner will take to him instantly and Spangles will probably mother him within an inch of his life."

Fury grinned. "Yeah, maybe, but the truth is, the kid has been on SHIELD's watchlist since he was 15 months old. He disappeared off our radar for awhile and it looks like we caught up just in time. Any longer, and he'd volunteer for joining Voldemort." He cut off Tony with a glare and a wave of his hand. "Later Stark. I said later." Tony grumped and rolled his eyes.

"Enough gabbing," he continued. "Let's get the kid fed & watered and let him sleep. Tomorrow, we can put him under and do some fixing."

"His hand?" queried Tony. "You can't leave him like that."

Elliot said, "We'll mildly sedate him tonight so he can sleep. I'll stabilize his hand, but not set it. And he's getting a bath." The medic prepared to be glared at for this one, but apparently, they all agreed. Poor little dude hadn't been bathed in what smelled like a year. "Tomorrow, we get to work after we put him under. It must be done, but I don't think I can tonight. He's stressed out bad enough with the few readings I did take, and the bath will be painful, no matter how hard we try not to hurt him."

The adults nodded in agreement. Nat left to meet up with Agent Hill and get things sorted out for sleeping and bathing, Fury following behind her. Elliot went to consult with the other medics in the room and they started their own conference to plan for the next day.

Tony stuck his hands in his pockets and went to where Harry & Clint were. "Hey Little Man, you ready for something to eat?"

Harry's green eyes looked at Tony carefully, then he nodded and gently gave back the goggles to Clint. "Where ya taking him?" asked Clint.

"Mess hall. Fastest way to get anything in him at this time of day. Breakfast should still be going. Ready to roll Harry?" Tony held his hands out to Harry & Harry nodded back with a smile. He liked Tony & Clint, but the jury was still out on the others. Tony very carefully picked Harry up and Clint made sure his hand was all tucked in before they set out. "Jarvis – head to storage and charge up, just in case."

"Yes sir," the AI said obediently, and the Iron Man suit walked off to do exactly that.

"Well," said Clint. "We're parents."

Tony grinned. "Ya think so? You're the mommy then. You can pass it off to Rogers once we get to the tower." Tony sighed. "Pep is gonna kill me."

The two laughed and even Harry grinned, though he had no idea what was going on. He liked the sound of having parents though! This was the craziest day he'd ever had and he hoped it never ended.


That's it, for now. I might continue this, but I also have a long chaptered fic I'm working on that's a ways out for production just yet.
If you like, lemme know. If you don't... well, carry on, you'll find what you're after eventually.

Thanks for stopping by!