A/N ~ I do not own Harry potter or the avengers. I do own this fanfic and have worked hard on it so please don't copy it without consent!

Writing ~text

Writing~ Jarvis

Writing~ dreams

'Writing' ~ thoughts

Blackness. So dark it was overwhelming.

A dark empty abyss that seemed to squirm into the very sky itself. A horror that ate anything else around it. Burning away its very existence. And I was headed straight for it.

I couldn't turn away. I couldn't move.

"Jarvis" I called out, panic seeping from the empty space around me into my voice. "Jarvis, pull all power from thrusters"

"I can't do that sir" the voice of my AI seemed to echo around the hollow of my helmet. When did it get so big in here?

"Jarvis I need you to pull to power from the main thrusters now!" I knew it was no use. It never was any use, but that didn't help the panic.

"I'm afraid that's not possible sir. You gave me a strict orders." The black was coming closer. It was swallowing me. I can't get away!

It was on me.

A coal mouth swallowed me down into emptiness. There was absolutely nothing. Nothing but the chill. A cold that seemed to drag itself from the darkest corners of you memory, oozing out of childhood nightmares and slinked from adult paranoia. It dug its way through my armor. Chipping away at the last layer before my skin without a single sound. Like a snake sliding through grass while it's eyes focused single mindedly. Never leaving its prey.

The last of my suit flew away and the chill feasted on the only thing in this darkness..

Me

Mr. Stark would have snapped up from the couch where he had previously been resting. Springing to his feet the same way our ancestors must when they sensed a predator nearby. He might have even called his armor to him just by muscle memory alone.

If it wasn't for the fact that he was cocooned in the light throw he had been using as a blanket that night.

Instead he managed to jerk himself an inch and a half of above the couch before promptly kicking out against his binds and falling to the floor of his lab. He raised his head disoriented before a chirp brought his wandering attention to the bot beside the couch.

Are you alright sir?

"Hmm" Tony's brain was still caught in the nightmare. "Jarvis where am I?"

You are currently in the lab of Stark Tower sir

"Stark Tower?" Tony grunted while twisting his arms free of the throw.

The first few nights he had the nightmare he would wake up with so much adrenalin in his bloodstream he would literally fly off the bed dragging all his bedding behind him. though after consistently waking Pepper every night for a week and a half he had given up any thought of getting a normal rest. Instead he would work in his lab late into the night, usually even the morning before his body would be almost at the point of collapse. He would allow his anxiously whirring and clicking bots to drag him to the couch before falling into a nightmare plagued sleep for a few hours.

Now not even the adrenalin of his nightmares could completely wake Tony up. There was just wasn't enough energy in his body. Finally working his arms free of the throw and starting on detangling the rest of him he barked out.

"Time Jarvis. mhph. What's the time?" the end of his call fizzing out to a murmur.

It is currently 3:52. Should I order breakfast sir?

'almost two hours of sleep' it was better than his last try

Tossing the throw back over the couch unfolded, Tony clawed his way to his feet. Staggered slightly before catching himself on the bot which hadn't moved since it chipped at him. Dum-E and U had were still back in his house in Malibu so this bot had yet to be named.

sir I would advise you lay back down. You are in no state to be walking let alone working.

"I just need coffee Jarvis. Get some running will you" Tony said still leaning against the un-named bot heavily.

I'm afraid that's not possible sir. Tony froze his nightmare dashing threw his skull like a taunt from a bully. We ran out of coffee earlier last night. You have been drinking so much of it lately that I haven't been able to restock quickly enough.

Tony turned his head so his face rested against the cold metal of the bot before grumbling under his breath about stupid statistics and reprogramming.

What was that sir. I can't pick up what you're saying

"I said I'll just have to go out and buy some then!" Tony growled another straw breaking in his mind before his straightened as much as he could and stumbled to the elevator doors.

All in all he did manage to make it surprisingly far before his legs finally gave out on him. As fate would have it he managed to hold out just long enough to fall into another who was out much to late, or early depending on your view point.

"whoa mate, you alright there?" asked the man, or woman Tony couldn't really tell his vision had started to blur about 3 blocks from the tower. "Mate, hey are you okay? Look at me!" the persons voice was definitely more worried now but Tony couldn't seem to gather enough energy to lift his weight let alone his head. "Bullocks, and here I thought I'd have a decent vacation" Tony felt one of the persons arms slide from where it was holding him up to grip at the back of his knees before his lost contact with the floor. The man, cause anyone strong enough to carry Tony bridal style had better be male, pulled Tony's upper body till his head rested against his shoulder.

Feeling the man start to walk Tony gave up on keeping his eyes open and settled for listening to the mans heartbeat. It was a strong beat. Almost keeping pace with the subtle jolts he felt each time the man stepped towards there destination. He really should be more worried about that but he couldn't seem to bring himself to. This person felt safe. Safe and warm and he smelt of pine and sulfur and just slightly of flowers.

'please let this person not be a girl' Tony found himself wishing for the second time that day. If he was being carried by a girl he doubted there would be anyway for him to live it down to himself let alone his team when they found out.

He hadn't told them about the nightmares yet. But he suspected that they were starting to guess. He had thought the first to catch on would be Natasha, with all her super-spy training. But instead it was Rogers who had been looking at him with a slight understanding in his eye that set Tony off. Steve still Hadn't visited since that last blow up. Bruce had followed right behind Steve. though his was much subtler in his discovery. Instead of seeking him out to try and talk things out, he had come to work with Tony more often in Tony's lab instead of the one set up for him across the hall. When he realized what Bruce was up to he had pretty much banned him from his lab. Changing Bruce's pass-codes to only work in dire situations.

He bet that part of the reason why neither Clint or Natasha had caught on yet was because they were constantly being called on for missions by SHEILD. Whether it be clean up to assassinations they seemed to be being called on more than before. Tony assumed that this was under the orders of the council, though he couldn't exactly think what they would gain in his current condition.

His current condition. He didn't want to refer to it as what it was, so instead he settled for calling it his condition. The fact was he was scared. Scared that if he admitted he was anything but the hero people were looking to him as he would no longer be to stand. He was scared of letting people in, and though he trusted his team to an extent he didn't trust them with this. Because with this they would have his weakness. They would have a way to control him, even though right now he didn't really have much control himself. In fact he had no control considering the fact he was being carried somewhere by an unknown man who could have any kind of intentions toward him. No matter how nice he smelt.

Suddenly the man stopped the hand that been gripping the under side of Tony's knees let go, leaving the weight of his legs to rest on his arm. The man's wrist twisted under him, Tony belatedly realizing he was probably turning a doorknob, and he heard a small chime of a bell.

"Harry!" the man called out "Harry come quick!" Tony groaned as he was slide away rom the warm chest and comforting heartbeat of the man to lye on something soft. Hands gently smoothed out his clothes that had bunched under him before smoothing his hair from his grimy forehead. He hadn't realized he was so dirty.

'but I guess that's what working for days in the lab without cleaning himself properly would do'

The last thing he heard before darkness claimed him was someone calling out questionably for a 'George'.

'Thank god it wasn't a girl'...

There were many things Harry had been expecting when he heard George's panicked voice call for him from the bottom of his apartment stairs was the sight he saw now.

Tony stark or Iron Man as many called him passed out on the couch in his quaint little café was not one of them...

Okay maybe it was but it was really far down on his list. So understandably he was shocked still for a second, a short one mind you, before his healer training kicked in and he rushed back up the stairs to grab his medical kit. He always had one handy. The war had made him slightly paranoid but the fact that once his plans to become a Medi-wizard were announced to the public and aurora's started showing up at his doorstep after being hurt on a mission effected him more.

It had saddened and disappointed him that people had though that after all his time fighting in the war he would want to become an Auror and fight EVEN MORE. He didn't lose his 'saving-people-thing' as Hermione called it. Not in the least. In fact it seemed to get stronger after the war. No longer were casualties something to be expected or deaths allowed. Once Harry had started his training he had put his everything into helping every person to come his way. It was that urge that stopped him from remaking Grimauld place un-plottable, no matter how tired he was from Auroras dropping by nearly on deaths door. It was that force and pure stubbornness that had him working overtime at St. Mungo's night after night, and even when the hospital wouldn't let him work any more hours he would stay up for as long as he could studying for his Medi-wizard certification. Especially Potions. It was that same stubbornness that had saved many lives as a medi-wizard when, even when any other medic would have given up, he plowed on refusing to let his patient die. A fact that endeared him to many magical creatures as he didn't tend to differentiate between patients.

And so, just as the Boy-Who-Lived became The-Man-Who-Conquered, The-Man-Who-Conquered became the Healer-Who-Saved or whatever ridiculous moniker they had given him. Five years after the war it had finally hit him. He had been struggling so long not to think about the war by throwing himself into his work that when one day he looked up from his work and saw Fred Weasely instead of some random patient he almost crumpled then and there. He managed to finish healing the minor laceration on the teen's leg before walking quickly from the room and calling in another healer to finish for him and taking a rather abrupt vacation.

He had sat alone in Grimauld place for almost a month before he thought to contact George. George who had, understandably enough been pulling the same stunt with his work at the joke shop. When George arrived it had taken very little time for the two of them to crack open a bottle of fire-whiskey and drink it to the bottom, and another. By the time they were halfway through their third bottle they were both crying and hugging each other. Throughout the next twelve days they moped around, and mourned their lost friends and family together for another week before Harry w's contacted by St. Mungo's saying that he was at the end of his paid leave. It was the only time in Harry's memory were he resented his job.

It was that morning when George had been flipping through some old photo albums of Harry's from just before the war had really kicked up, and Harry himself was cleaning himself up and preparing himself for what could only be a day of hard work and stubbornness when he heard a clatter and a gasp from the room George occupied. Harry had rushed into the room new instincts and old had him reaching for his wand, but the look on George's face as his gaze traveled back and forth from the album to Harry froze him.

That was when they realized Harry had stopped aging. He looked the same as he had looked right before the battle of Hogwarts. The stress of his life on the run had aged Harry's face enough that he could pass for 21, maybe even his actual age of 23 if he pushed the baby face story. The fact remained the same, he wasn't aging, and at some point with his still near constant appearances in the media it was going to be noticed. Especially since Rita Skeeter had yet to abandon her personal vendetta to share his personal life with the world.

It took George another year and a half to convince Harry to leave magical Britain with him, and another 9 months for them to settle on a new home. The fact that really solidified their plans was the news of aliens attacking New York. Strange though it may be they thought that if the wizarding government in America was willing to allow an alien invasion and supposed superheroes on the news(especially since it was muggle news) they were pretty sure they wouldn't do anything against him when they realized he didn't age. Besides the magical communities in America tended to be in cities well populated with muggles and therefore had much more diverse culture, and as Harry pointed out, less magical news. Along with the recent word of mutants, muggles who were born with a, usually singular, ability of some form, any magic caught by either muggle or magical could be played off as a mutant ability therefore destroying any claim either community would have on Harry in their new life. Especially since they were panning on changing their names. They didn't know how famous Harry was and they didn't want to be found by any reporters. So George became George Weston and Harry became Harrison Wells.

At first it had all gone okay. Harry had gotten a job at the local muggle hospital and George had opened a new joke shop that catered to both muggles and magicals. Though it wasn't very popular. But eventually the stress of the emergency room started to get to Harry, and work that had built up because the damage to the city dwindled. In the end Harry decided to leave the hospital before he got laid off and had wandered the city looking for work. He had been sitting in their shared apartment contemplating there potions stock and how much he sucked at brewing when an idea hit him.

While Harry was pants at potions he had learned during his apprenticeship that he wasn't as bad as he thought. In fact he was actually decent at following the instructions and could get okay results if it wasn't for his natural reaction of pouring too much magic into his potions while brewing. While for a potion to reach its top potency the brewer needs to put some magic into the potion during the brewing process, pouring into too much magic as Harry tended to do would cause the ingredients to release their own natural magic into the potion. Depending on the ingredients used for the potion this could end into violent, and often times explosive results.

While this skill had hampered Harry ability to brew potions it had opened up a new possibility of using the raw magic of ingredients to add magical properties to normal foods. Something he had discovered by accident one day while helping molly Weasly cook.

This seemingly inconsequential quirk of him had come to his mind while he was contemplating whether or not he should risk brewing the skelegrow himself when his crazy thought manifested.

It started with him altering a few simply recipes to use small amounts of magical ingredients without altering the flavor too much. Then he would test them by selling them as a street vendor in parks or farmers markets. Once he felt he had enough recipes he had bought a small but cozy corner store, and set about making his café.

That was around a year ago. Now he was dashing about his apartment above said café looking for that blasted medical kit because Tony Stark was IN HIS CAFE PASSED OUT ON THE COUCH!

'Curse my stupid trouble magnet!' finally finding his bag stuffed somewhat awkwardly under a pile of textbooks on chemical gastronomy, one of Harry's new fascinations, Harry grabbed and half tumbled half slid down the stairs. Returning to George's side next to the couch Harry waved his hand over Tony's body for a medical scan as he didn't have his wand in hand.

Vaguely noting George slipping into one of the large stuffed chairs nearby allowing Harry room to work he waited for the results to appear in his palm. When they did appear quite quickly he snatched them out of the air and with practiced ease read through the results. His shoulders relaxing the farther down the short page he got.

"Hem's alright. Just sleep deprived" Harry said "really sleep derived. In fact if he wakes up before sleeping for at least twelve hours I honestly don't know what I'll do" 'what could have caused him to loose so much sleep? Even George isn't this bad when he gets an idea at night so unless Tony stark is more eccentric than George something is keeping him awake'.

Thinking back on the time right after the war where nightmares would jolt Harry from sleep every few hours had Harry casting a quick mental health charm. Though not one of the more invasive ones used by mind healers. Harry never had been able to stomach those, they reminded him to closely of Voldemort's attempts to penetrate his mind.

The charms results were more revealing to Harry than they would have been to most other healers. Mostly because he had been through this same thing himself.

With an queried eyebrow that could contest with Snape's Harry noted 'It seemed that Mr. stark is suffering from PTSD.'

Turning to George Harry gave quick orders to carry Tony upstairs and settle him in the guest bedroom. Harry followed them to the top of the stairs before turning into his room to grab a pair of pajamas to change Tony into. As Tony's current clothing state was more than enough to send Harry's healer trained mind into Hermione worthy speeches on health codes.

Entering the guest room Harry calmed those urges by vanishing Tony's current clothing before cleaning him with a wandless Evanesco and changing into the clean set of pajamas. Harry then pulled a quarter dosage of dreamless sleep from his medical kit, spelled it into Tony's system, and pulled the covers over Tony's silent form.

A/N

Thank you so much for reading the first installment of my story.

I hope you enjoyed it. I don't currently have a Beta so please feel free to leave reviews and comments. All thoughts are welcome.

I plan to continue this story for quite a while so look forward to more installments!

Thank you again!