Hey kidlets! So, this is the last chapter I had "pre-prepared", I guess you could call it. So, this, I think, brings the fast and furious updating to an end. But, I will continue trying to update within reasonable time constraints!
A few of y'all have asked if/when I'm going to bring in the other Avengers. I can tell you that I'm planning on including all of them at some point in the story. But, I want to make sure that happens organically. I don't want it to be a parade of awesome characters that goes nowhere, you know? I don't always know where my stories are headed, but I do like them to have some semblance of plot.
As usual, the characters of Iron Man don't belong to me. Sigh. If only, if only.
"No! Mom, wake up!"
Pepper and Tony had started taking Harley's nightmares in shifts, because there were almost always two or more in a night. If Pepper took the first one, then Tony took the second, and vice versa. It was a routine they'd become accustomed to, even if they weren't exactly thrilled with it.
"Somebody help, please!"
"Pep," Tony murmured sleepily, "Pepper, it's Harley. Your turn."
Pepper yawned and staggered out of bed, "I know, I know. I'm going," she mumbled.
Pepper walked down the hall and opened the door to Harley's room. She sat down on the bed and brushed Harley's hair back from his face, "Harley," she said softly, "You're just having a nightmare. Wake up, sweetheart. You're okay. I'm here, and everything's safe now."
Harley sat bolt upright and looked wildly around the room until his eyes fell on Pepper. His mouth trembled and he burst into tears. Pepper pulled him into her arms and said, "Whoa, Harley, it's okay. You're okay. You're safe, and I'm here."
"I'm so—so sorry," Harley sobbed, "Pepper, I—I—I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—to wake you up!"
"Hey, it's fine," Pepper soothed, "You don't need to apologize. It was just a bad dream, that's all."
Harley continued to cry and Pepper hummed a lullaby her mother used to sing for her. Twenty minutes passed, and Harley had calmed down enough that Pepper thought it was safe to tuck him in and head back to her own bed. But as she tried to untangle her arms from Harley's, he grabbed her wrist and looked groggily into her eyes, "Please don't leave," he begged.
Pepper sat back down and let Harley curl up against her, "I'm not going anywhere," she assured him.
They stayed like that until morning. Pepper rocked Harley while he slept.
It was 3 p.m. the next day, and Tony and Harley were sitting silently in rush hour traffic. They were headed to the Upper East Side for an appointment with yet another child therapist. Harley was less than ecstatic about the whole thing, "I didn't like any of the other people I've seen so far," he'd argued earlier, "What makes you think I'm going to like this lady?"
Pepper had explained, "Dr. Fields comes highly recommended, Harley. I've heard some wonderful things about her. It's really important to me, and to Tony, that you give this a shot. You've been through a lot in the last couple weeks, sweetheart. More than most people have to go through in their whole lives. You need to talk to someone about it."
"Why can't I just talk to you and Tony?"
"We love it when you talk to us," Pepper answered, "And we want you to feel like you can come to us with anything. But, it's also vital that you talk to a professional. Helping people sort through awful, scary things is what Dr. Fields is trained to do."
So, Harley—with only a little bit of feet dragging and eye-rolling—was reluctantly making the trip uptown to Dr. Fields's office. His current mood didn't exactly facilitate conversation, so Tony was filling the spaces as best he could.
"You have a girlfriend back in Tennessee?"
"What's your favorite movie?"
"Do you like Chinese or Thai food better?"
"What are your thoughts on the economy?"
"Patriot Man isn't really that cool, is he?"
Tony's questions elicited one word answers if they got answers at all, and he was beginning to get discouraged when he said, "You know, I had to see a therapist when I was a kid, too. I was right around your age, actually."
This caught Harley's interest, "Really?"
Tony nodded, "Yep. It was my mom's idea. She thought I wasn't being open enough with my feelings, or something. My dad thought it was idiotic, though. He always told me, 'You need iron in your backbone to be successful!' Stark men—they don't ask for help. Dad said it was a sign of weakness. So, he made me quit going."
Tony paused before he continued, "At the time, I was glad, because it meant my afternoons were free again. But looking back on it, I wish I'd kept going. I think it might've saved me a lot of problems as an adult."
"I think you're okay," Harley told him.
Tony smiled faintly, "Thanks, kid. I am pretty okay, now. Haven't always been though."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Although, I do have a lot of people to thank for helping me get better."
"Like Pepper?" Harley asked, "And Bruce?"
Tony nodded. He waited a few beats before he added, "And you."
Harley's eyes widened, "Me?"
"Yeah, you," Tony said.
Harley grinned, "Cool."
"Hey," Tony said, "Don't go telling anyone about this conversation—especially Pepper. The moment she finds out I can be open, or honest, or whatever, she's going to expect that out of me on a regular basis."
"I have to be open to people," Harley pointed out, "Why is it any different for you?"
"Because it is," Tony answered.
"That's some pretty stupid reasoning, Tony."
Tony rolled his eyes, "Smartass," he grumbled.
Harley laughed.
Dr. Fields had short blonde hair, square black glasses, and a warm smile. Harley liked her immediately, but he wasn't about to admit that without a fight.
"You must be Harley," Dr. Fields said upon meeting him, "I'm Dr. Fields—,"
"I know who you are," Harley muttered.
Dr. Fields ignored the interruption, "But you're welcome to call me Dr. Kate if you'd like."
Harley glowered at his feet, "Dr. Fields is fine," he said.
"Then Dr. Fields it is!" she said, "My office is just down that hallway. Would you mind heading there and waiting for me for a couple of minutes? I need to talk to Tony about a few things. I have plenty of toys, and you're welcome to play with them if you'd like."
Harley turned and walked away without a word. Tony rolled his eyes and turned to Dr. Fields, "He's not exactly thrilled with the idea of therapy," he told her.
Dr. Fields laughed, "Mr. Stark, most of the children brought here aren't exactly thrilled with the idea of therapy. Harley's behavior isn't out of the ordinary at all," she assured him, "Ms. Potts told me over the phone that I'm the…sixth therapist you all have tried?"
"Well, seventh, technically," Tony said, "But Harley doesn't like to count the guy who dressed up as a clown."
"Ah, Dr. Cooper," Dr. Fields said, nodding and smiling slightly, "Yes, his methods are certainly…unorthodox."
Tony snorted, "That's one word for it."
"Well, I certainly hope I'm the right fit for Harley," Dr. Fields said, "But if I'm not, I'd be more than happy to give you the contact information for some of my colleagues."
"Thanks, doctor."
"Absolutely," Dr. Fields smiled, "The child's needs and interests are the most important, of course."
Tony stared at her, "You know," he said, "I think I like you the best already."
Harley was building a robot out of Legos while Dr. Fields watched patiently from her desk. Their appointment had been going on for close to twenty minutes—but so far, neither person had said anything. Dr. Fields would occasionally jot something down in a notebook, but other than that—not a word.
"Aren't you supposed to, like, ask me questions?" Harley finally said.
"Do you want me to ask you questions?" Dr. Fields said.
Harley went back to his Legos, "No."
"Then I'm not supposed to ask you questions," Dr. Fields answered, "What happens in this office, what we talk about—that's entirely up to you."
"Oh, really?" Harley said skeptically.
"Really."
"Tony and Pepper probably won't like that," Harley warned.
"Why not?"
"Because all they want me to do is talk," Harley said, "That's all anybody wants. That's why I have to come here. They want me to talk about everything, even when I don't feel like it. It's the worst."
"Well," Dr. Fields said, "Sometimes talking with people is good. It helps us sort through problems that are too big for us to handle on our own."
"And sometimes," Harley said, "Talking with people is sucky. It makes us think about things we really don't want to think about at all."
"That's fair," Dr. Fields agreed, "Well, Harley, what do you want to talk about?"
Harley put his robot aside, "I like superheroes," he said.
Dr. Fields smiled, "So do I."
"Who's your favorite?"
"Hmm," Dr. Fields thought a moment, "I'm afraid this may bit a bit cliché, but I have always liked Superman."
"Yeah, that is pretty lame," Harley said.
Dr. Fields laughed out loud, "Who's your favorite?"
Harley looked her straight in the eye, "Iron Man. He was there when I needed him."
Dr. Fields studied Harley carefully, "Yes," she agreed, "He certainly was."
Forty minutes later, the appointment was over and Harley wandered back into the waiting room to find Tony.
"I like her," he said, "She's staying."
Tony turned towards Dr. Fields, eyebrows raised, "How much did you have to pay him to say that?"
Harley pulled a face at Tony as Dr. Fields laughed, "Harley is a wonderful young man," she said, "I'd certainly like to see him again soon."
"How about—same time next week?" Tony asked.
Dr. Fields looked at Harley, "How does that sound to you, Harley?"
"It sounds great."
"Excellent," Dr. Fields said, "Then I'll go ahead and schedule the appointment now."
Tony and Harley were walking out of the building when Tony said, "I'm glad you liked Dr. Fields so much."
Harley nodded, "She was nice," he admitted, "She didn't make me talk about stuff I didn't want to talk about. I got to pick."
They were quiet until they got back to the car. The doors were shut and the key was in the ignition, but Tony didn't turn it. He, instead, turned to Harley and said, "You know, you are going to have to talk about that stuff someday. To me, or Pepper, or Dr. Fields. Whoever. But it's something that needs to happen. Understand?"
Harley nodded, "Yeah," he said quietly, "It's just hard."
Tony sighed, "I know it is, kid. I know."
Neither one of them said anything for a while, but Tony didn't move to turn the car on. They just sat in a silence that was perhaps not comfortable, but certainly contemplative.
"Tony?"
"Yeah, pal?"
"Can we go to the arcade?"
"Absolutely."