Despite the verdict of the trial and the celebration and cake in the tower, James struggles to wrap his head around the fact that he's free.
The inner voice has never struggled with facts. It reminds him of the verdict. NOT GUILTY.
James knows he won't be free of guilt, regardless of what the court says. He'll still see his hands strangling, stabbing and shooting in his nightmares. He still remembers the pleas, screams and choked gasps of dying breaths. The blood that stained his hands red.
It was Hydra, Bucky argues what Stark and Steve had during their testimonies, but Bucky's voice seems to be reminding itself as well.
Crushing guilt is practically a requirement for living with the team. Stark is haunted by all the lives his weapons took, despite not being the one to pull the trigger; his insistence that Hydra pulled the Soldier's trigger is a hypocrisy that Stark waves aside almost unconsciously.
Barton had brooded with James during the nights at his house, but had pushed it aside during the daytime to set up fake Olympic Games for his children and Harry. Romanoff has been working to balance the red in her ledger. Both agents now need to cope with the fact that they were unknowingly working alongside HYDRA.
James wonders if that's easier to live with than being Hydra's puppet.
Romanoff herself arrives as James ruminates; Harry asks when the Bartons will join the party. James doubts Barton will join any party Loki's a part of, much less let his children within any sort of proximity.
Nelson eyes James and says "Usually people are happier when they win. I mean, that evidence was terrible to see, much less live through. So, that's probably why you never smile. Sorry, man."
Nelson stops, looking awkward.
"Thank you for taking the case," Steve tells Nelson and Murdock for at least the twentieth time since they'd first met.
Nelson snorts. "We should be thanking you. I think Stark just paid for our firm for the next two years."
Murdock raises his bottle of scotch at Stark.
James nods his thanks to his lawyers, but he really doesn't feel like partying. He can't remember a time he's ever felt like partying, but especially now, he feels more exhausted than elated.
Harry, of course, is buzzing around, cheering and toasting his apple juice to the others' scotch, vodka and mead. James clutches his own glass, but does not drink.
"Now you're both not guilty." Harry beams at him and Black.
"Sirius was innocent," Stark points out, though James knows Black still blames himself for suggesting Pettigrew as the Secret Keeper.
Black himself frowns, though he'd been toasting moments before.
Harry switches on the television, likely hoping to hear the good news reported again, but a middle-aged man in a suit is fuming about how he got off.
"He got off!" Harry shouts at the TV triumphantly, almost mockingly. It turns into its own song. "He got off! He got off! He got off!"
Harry's excitement doesn't last long. He nods off ten minutes later, and James lifts him up to carry to bed. Harry needs sleep after the stress of the trial.
"Pretty soon there'll be fireworks with this party," Romanoff nods towards the window. The tension immediately to James' shoulders, his spine straightening.
Stark winces. "Right, For Spangles' birthday… I'm guessing nobody here is a fan."
"Of me?" Steve's mouth quirks, and Bucky's voice immediately protests the notion with a vehemence that does not surprise James. Pal, I was your number one fan before the rest of the world got a clue.
James recalls some conversations between Stark and the students, and Bucky groans in his head. Stark would call me a hipster if he could hear me.
Steve quickly grows more serious. "We should relocate."
Black is in favor of relocating, citing that everyone knows Harry's location at the tower. "I would've expected the Death Eaters to come knocking by now. Not all of them are in Azkaban. Malfoy, for one."
"Is he mouthy?" Stark asks, and Steve mutters that Stark is mouthy.
Romanoff rolls her eyes, exasperated by the men surrounding her.
HARRY'S SAFETY IS COMPROMISED, blares his inner voice.
What else is new, James wonders wearily.
Pretty much everything in this century, Bucky jokes. Have you not been paying attention? Everyone knows about magic.
Loki holds out his arm, but nobody grabs hold just yet. "We don't even know where you're taking us." Stark points out.
Loki grins mysteriously.
"To battle!" Thor bellows. He drank heavily during the party, yet shows no sign of inebriation. James and Steve, similarly, cannot become intoxicated, though Thor had promised Steve inebriation via Asgardian mead. "The Death Eaters such as Malfoy must be defeated."
Black growls, low in his throat, much like Snuffles. "He claimed he was under the Imperius. He got off, too."
"Well, this is awkward, given we're celebrating justice." Stark says, swirling his scotch in his glass. "Then again, they sure took their time giving you any."
"Don't remind me." Black grumbles.
Romanoff folds her arms across her chest. "Let's relocate now, argue later."
Loki teleports them back to Xavier's Institute. Logan greets them with a bottle of beer in his fist, which he raises to James in a toast before glancing at Harry's head resting on James' shoulder.
"Saw he made a spectacle of himself," Logan grunts. "You hidin' out here again?"
James carries Harry to bed. He clearly needs his rest after the stress of the trial.
James knows he requires it too; he'd slept even worse than usual recently. The times he had managed to sleep, he dreamed of being imprisoned by authorities rife with HYDRA and of faceless agents hauling him towards the Chair and cryogenic tank.
Logically, James knows that Stark, Steve and the others would hunt for him if he disappeared, even while imprisoned, but it would be too late. Professor X nullifying the command words wouldn't help with the Chair.
Sighing, resigned to dreams of violence and torture, James lays beside Harry on the oversized, over-soft bed.
His sleep is shockingly peaceful, so much so that he suspects Professor X or Loki had smoothed his sleep over, casting some sort of spell to make his rest truly restful and dreamless.
James glances at the digital clock. 0918. He'd slept for 13.5 hours, and is now certain someone had influenced his sleep. He cannot recall ever sleeping even half as long out of cryofreeze.
James half wishes the Professor would do this every night, but knowing someone would be messing with his mind nightly is almost worse than the horrors his subconscious subjects him to. He trusts the Professor enough to let him help with the trigger words, but that was a necessity to ensure Harry and everyone else's safety.
Harry is still asleep, shockingly, and James wonders if someone had deepened his sleep as well. James finds himself missing their hot chocolate and board game party at 0-dark-thirty.
Don't worry, Bucky says humorlessly. We'll have plenty of nightmares later.
James performs calisthenics as he waits for Harry to wake. Harry is understandably confused when he realizes they're in the mansion rather than the tower, but follows James downstairs for breakfast.
"Where is everyone?"
"Still on summer vacation." Stark answers. "Speaking of which, it's summer vacation. Go do something fun. You've been on one shopping trip in almost a year. You'd think you were quarantining."
James stares at him, and Stark raises his palms in surrender. "I know, I know. Hiding from HYDRA and the law. But now HYDRA's only sort of a problem. So let's have some summer fun. We could go back to Malibu, do the whole beach thing."
"There's no nursery preschool here." Harry sighs, despite refusing to even consider going to the one in the tower. James doubts Harry will appreciate being separated now either, especially after spending hours on end apart during the trial. James doesn't like the idea any more than Harry does, but he knows Harry needs to experience a normal childhood, which in these days means preschool.
Stark is rambling something similar to James' thoughts. "I mean, this mansion is amazing, but isn't it just another prison if you never leave? Wow, Beast's philosophical jargon is rubbing off on me. Also, Pepper would kill me for mentioning prisons around you guys. By the way, Moody dropped by and left Harry a present."
James blinks at the non-sequitur as Stark points to a parcel wrapped in a manner that sends flashes of memories through his brain.
Harry struggles to untie the string, then eagerly unwraps it. A silvery, shimmering fabric slides off the table like a waterfall. James reaches out; it feels like water woven into fabric.
Black has gone extremely still, staring at it like he's seen a ghost, a ghost he's desperately wanted to see.
"That was your father's. Your other father's." he croaks as Harry pulls the fabric with a grin.
"A fort fort!"
"It's a cloak." Sirius explains. "An invisibility cloak."
Harry looks at him, uncomprehending, and Sirius explains that means people won't see him if he wears it.
Harry crawls under the silvery fabric, which disappears. James twitches at the illusion of Harry vanishing, but he hears Harry laugh. "I can see more out of this one! Loki, can you make it big?"
"No!" Black objects, reaching out for the cloak. A note falls to the floor, and James picks it up. The writing is narrow and loopy, and James reads aloud. "Your first father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. Happy early birthday. I'm sorry."
Harry pops out from under the cloak, confused. "Sorry? Is someone going to take it away?"
"It's from Dumbledore." Black says. "He means sorry for trying to take his memories."
Loki enters the kitchen as if he owns it.
"I have a magic trick!" Harry tells him, ducking back under the cloak.
Thor applauds, each clap like thunder. Loki is entirely unimpressed, turning toward Black to scoff "You mortals require cloaks to make yourselves invisible?"
Black opens his mouth to protest, but Thor elbows Loki in the ribs, frowning. "Remember how you said Father did not appreciate your magic tricks? I would expect you to show more enthusiasm over young Harry's tricks."
Loki claps with surprising sincerity, given his prior statement.
James hears Harry creep forward, stealthily enough that Stark doesn't notice until there's a loud crash.
"Ow." Harry grumbles, evidently having tripped over the long fabric. One of his legs becomes visible, appearing dismembered. The sight makes James' stomach turn, though there is no blood. For years, blood didn't faze him either.
Harry bounces up before James can reach for him.
"Let's play Hide-and-go-seek. Not it!" Harry scampers off with the cloak, once again visible, billowing behind him. His voice drifts from the hallway. "Logan, you won't find me!"
"I can still smell you, kid." Logan huffs, and James realizes Harry skipped his bath.
A second of silence passes before Harry says "Jarvis can't find me!"
Harry calls out to nobody in particular "You have to count!"
"If I find you, I get to scan the cloak!" Stark hollers back.
Black folds his arms. "It's not yours."
"It won't hurt it." Stark replies carelessly. "And haven't you heard of borrowing stuff? Clearly Gandalf borrowed it."
"James wouldn't want-" Black stops when Stark leaves the room in search of Harry. Black and James stalk out simultaneously, though Logan does not follow.
James' skill at tracking is unnecessary. Harry may have been stealthy at Number Four, Privet Drive, but he's terrible at climbing stairs in the cloak. James hears him trip five times, though he gets back up each time.
"You know," Stark turns to James, acting like they're simply strolling that way, unaware of Harry's presence, "You could use that to avoid stares in public and go to Coney Island or somewhere. I know Harry and Steve want to go. Or I could just buy out the park for a day so you don't have to hide. I'll even pay them extra to say it's for maintenance, and nobody will know you're there. Except the workers. Do you think HYDRA hires carnies?"
Anyone could be HYDRA, Bucky fumes. Even though they'd revealed several prominent leaders and members to the world, such as Pierce and Rumlow, they're far from exterminating the whole organization.
CUT OFF ONE HEAD, TWO MORE SHALL TAKE ITS PLACE, the inner voice says reflexively.
James hears Harry stumble again. He reaches out, snags the cloak, and scoops Harry into his arms.
Hiding them both under the cloak, James sets off at a fast pace, and Stark calls out "Traitor! I can barely keep track of you when I can see you!"
Harry snickers, snuggling into James' arms. James secures a location on the roof with optimal visibility. The cloak billows around them as they stand, looking over the Institute grounds like Batman watching over Gotham.
James checks Harry over, frowning when he sees bruised knees and a skinned elbow.
"We'll have to get McCoy or Banner to look at those," he murmurs. They're the only ones he'll trust anywhere near his son.
"But they can't see us." Harry replies.
"When we're done." James says.
Harry shrieks "They'll never find us!" and covers his mouth guiltily.
James wishes they could be that confident about remaining hidden from the Death Eaters or HYDRA, but he knows they'll be found.
This time, at least, they'll be found by family.
It takes Stark 24.9 minutes to locate them, though James is sure at least a third of that time was spent arguing with Loki about invisibility.
"So, after I scan this thing, what do you say we hit up Coney Island tomorrow?"
Harry cheers, and the Bucky voice mirrors his enthusiasm.
Anyone recognize Harry's song? :)
I was going to have Foggy use the term RBF, but apparently it didn't originate until 2013. I had to google if Matt drank, too.
Also I got four more X-Men figures today: Magneto, Beast, Colossus and Sabretooth. Both Beast and Colossus are missing their left thumb for some reason.