Headaches were a common ailment for someone who spent as much time staring at screens, holographic or not. Tony could handle a headache. Hangovers were a bit more rare, but Tony could handle a hangover. He'd had his fair share (probably less, to be honest) and then some of nasty hangovers. He'd even had a few that made him question his sanity and swear off alcohol altogether. Those never stuck, obviously, but it in the thick of it he had been sure they would.

Never, ever, had Tony had a hangover like this.

Every single nerve, every single one of them in his entire body, seemed to have migrated to his head. Not only were there too many nerve endings in his head, but they were all on fire. With acid. To make matters worse, his brain was caught, completely against it's will Tony was sure, in a mosh pit at the most hand-core rock concert ever hosted in a human cranium. There was screaming involved. Tony was fairly sure it was him.

"It's not that bad, Stark. Take a deep breath."

Tony knew, somehow, that Natasha had whispered at him. However, those ruthless nerve endings took her soft voice as a personal assault and throbbed. Tony was fairly sure his groan could fit in happily in some terrorist's torture chamber.

"Try to sit up. You need fluids."

Tony grit his teeth in agony. There may have been some writhing going on as well, he wasn't sure. Choice swearwords were fighting to leave his mouth, but he couldn't find the control to move his jaw, so they just sounded like muffled but irritated grumblings underlain by pain.

A door swung open - where was he? - and Tony was sure he felt when Bruce walked in.

"Clint says he's not doing well?" A soft thunk on the bed that jarred him,and Tony knew the man had brought his medicine bag. 'Not that kind of doctor' his left foot.

"No, he's in extreme pain. FittSimmons reported the dendrotoxin completely harmless in humans. Do you have a theory?"

"I have several." Tony flinched, not expecting Bruce's voice to come from so near his head. Wasn't Natasha laying next to him? He was sure he could feel the bed dip lightly on the side her voice came from, which would mean Bruce was very close to her...maybe even leaning over her. Tony had a horrible thought, in the brief silence in his bedroom only broken by his way-too-loud breathing that there had to be a reason Bruce, who was near fanatical when it came to a patient, hadn't moved to check his pulse or poke him with a needle yet. And was Natasha moving? It was faint but just enough if they were -

"You two had better not be making out while I'm dying!" It took every ounce of energy he had but Tony didn't care. No way was he going to lay here and let them just -

"There he is." Bruce sounded relieved. "If your mouth didn't run off Hulk was taking you straight to SHIELD."

"Good to know you can still jump to conclusions in extreme pain, Stark." Nat sounded far too cheerful for Tony's liking.

"You're mean," was all he could manage at the moment.

"And you're magic." Bruce had knelt on the bed now, doing something doctor-y that required Tony's arm and probably a needle, but Natasha hadn't moved and Tony desperately wanted to open his eyes to see just how that was working out - not dating his left foot - but he forced himself to focus on reminding Bruce that he was a Squib without magic, glad that his nerves had decided to slowly migrate back to their proper places.

"No magic," however, was all his mouth was able to get out.

"No, maybe not enough to be considered a wizard, but you've got enough to avoid being blown up by your rather spectacular failed modifications and piss off this completely unharmful dendrotoxin. It's probably how you survived Afganistan, actually."

Well, Tony knew that. "Duh." There was a pinch of a needle into the crook of his arm as Tony lay there, smugly. And he'd managed to keep it from SHIELD, too. That there was a primary concern, though. "No Fury."

"No, I don't think Fury needs to know this, either." Tony could tell by the way Bruce's voice changed directions that he'd turned to look at Natasha, and wondered again how they expected anyone to believe they weren't together.

"I've decided Fury doesn't need to know anything that happens in Stark Tower. We've saved the world, we can handle living together."

By the silence, Tony knew they were making goo-goo eyes at each other. He rolled his eyes. Or tried to.

"I can tell your head isn't killing you anymore, Tony. Open up, let's see how sensitive you are to lights."

Bruce was back, the slight heat from his tiny light warming a trail across his face as he waited for Tony to open his eyes. Tony was definitely not opening his eyes. "No."

Bruce snorted. "Okay, but Harry's going to be disappointed."

Natasha hissed something but Tony couldn't hear. He'd suddenly remembered everything that happened last night and Harry and his legs had bent and turned before his brain could move his arms and he was upright, the edge of his bed swimming in his blurry vision, the bathroom door like a gaping hole beyond that but a stabbing pain shot up his legs and he felt the needle in his arm tug and his back spasmed and Tony knew he screamed and then he didn't know anything else.

He swam back to consciousness to find three voices whispering across the room.

"We do not mention Harry until we have Tony out of the clear, understood?"

What?

"And we don't mention that Tony's having a reaction to the Night-Night shot to any of the others. Thor'll want to hug him and Loki'll blow a fuse. Harry's got him worried enough as it is." That was Barton. Since when was Barton allowed in his bedroom?

"You think he's worried? He doesn't look ..."

"Use your eyes, doc. He's pacing. He's been reading the same page of that cooking magazine since breakfast and Steve's reported him sneaking in every hour to check the kid's pulse, which, by the way, is still worryingly weak. I know you don't want to strain Tony in his condition, but if we don't find out whats wrong with the kid soon - "

"Understood." Nat sounded tense. "Let's focus on getting Stark's levels up so he's cognizant. Bruce?"

"I've given him a double regulation infusion of hydration. If he continues to improve at this rate, he'll be stable enough to move in two hours."

Tony decided, as he experimentally moved his right arm, which did not move in the slightest, that he had had enough of people keeping secrets from him in his own house. "What is wrong with Harry?" came out more like "whhong hree", but Tony was gratified that they all moved toward him anyway.

"There went that plan," Clint mumbled on the way over. He flashed the inventor a cheeky grin. "We have got to stop meeting like this, Stark. I already told you, I'm not sharing your bed, no matter how pathetic you look."

Tony ignored Clint's banter and Natasha'a hand on his arm - he'd puzzle over that later. He turned his head - which required more effort than Tony thought possible - to Bruce, who stood fiddling with his pen and watching the beeping machines on his left, if Tony knew the man at all. "Harry?"

"How are you able to do that? Your eyes aren't eve open." Bruce had stepped closer, and Tony wished he could glare at the man. That was not the answer to his question.

"Wh Harry?"

"Bruce..." Nat cautioned.

"Nat he's talking already. His blood pressure is nearly stable and, he's speaking. He's recovering even faster than when he first woke up and we need to know."

"If he reacts like he did last time we may have to wait another four hours for him to wake up. We don't have that kind of time."

"Then we give him all the information. Tony never reacts well to not knowing something. The only reason he's still in bed is because he can't move his body yet."

"Very true, Clint. What's wrong with Harry, Bruce." Tony forced himself to be calm and rational, even round the extra effort it took to speak clearly. Harry was in a house with six superheroes and a formerly mind-controlled villain they were all 80% sure wouldn't kill them. If there was something seriously wrong they would have taken him to a hospital or Loki would have spelled him or something. He calmed his breathing and focused on opening his eyes. Bruce's thinking face came into view slowly, slowly, and Tony wondered if his eyes had been open all the while.

"Bruce." The doctor's eyes snapped up to meet his. "What is wrong with my nephew?"

"He's asleep." Tony noted Nat shifted her weight from the corner of his eye, but Bruce continued. "We're not sure why, but he's asleep, and he doesn't seem to be waking. His pulse was fine at first but it's steadily declined and -"

"How long?" Tony started moving the minute Bruce admitted he didn't know why Harry was still asleep. He yanked the needles out of his arm, kicking the covers off. There was a monitor stuck to his chest above the arc reactor and he yanked that off too. There was something about this situation tickling at his memory, urging him to move, move now. He barely stopped from punching Clint in the face when the man tried pressing him back into the bed.

"Tony, you need to rest - "

"How long has he been asleep?"

Clint's eyes, which had been kind-yet stern as he was about to put Tony to bed against his will, clouded over in confusion. "What?"

"How long has Harry been asleep!" They all paused, and Tony clamped down on his agitation. "There's something about this I should remember, and I can't. I need to see Harry, now, but I also need to know how long he's been asleep."

"Two days." Bruce said it like an apology. "You've both been out for the better part of two days. At first we thought there was some connection between the two of you, something to do with magic, but when you woke up and Harry didn't - "

Tony stopped listening, struggling against Clint's hold then grabbing onto the man's arm as he got upright then nearly toppled to the floor. Two days. Weakening heartbeat. This had happened to James.

Clint's arm wrapped around his waist, Nat's hand on his chest now. "Tony you really should -"

"Take me to him now before he dies!"

When Clint placed him down next to Harry's bed, Tony felt his heart seize and stutter to a stop. There, laying on the twin bed added to his room for the occasion, was James, deathly pale and not breathing. A strong hand on his arm shook him, and Tony felt his lungs resume breathing. His vision cleared, the sleek silver curves of the furniture breaking through the gloom in his mind. This wasn't James, this was Harry. Same situation, years apart. Fate was cruel.

"Tony, what is it?"

He looked up, heart hammering now, to see six sets of eyes peering at him. Thor stood, nearly as pale as his brother who lurked at the back of the group, his hard green eyes boring into Tony's. Tony locked eyes, nearly begging.

"Harry has the magic flu. It's not like the wizard's flu, this is, this only happens to magic users when they spend too much time in an environment without magic. James came to spend a week at my house the summer he turned fifteen. He was fine until the second day, he got really sleepy, and the next day he didn't wake up. Mum and Dad weren't there, and I couldn't use the Floo to call his parents. When his dad flooed in the day after, I was terrified. He barely had a pulse. He took us both through the floo and we came out in a hospital and they just took him. Just shot him with spell after spell and he wouldn't wake up and - "

"Tony, focus."Steve's voice cut through the memory, bright flashes of red and blue fading away against the air in room. "James survived, we know that. What does Harry need?"

"Magic." Tony turned to look at Loki again, to find the Asgardian moving towards the bed. "It's like, vibrations. Everything magic vibrates - "

"Including magic users. So Harry's been sending out vibrations and since nothing here is magic the vibrations have been traveling farther and farther."

"Like echolocation," Bruce murmered.

"Or ripples in a pond." Clint sent Loki and Tony a look, then took a step back.

"Quite." Loki pressed Thor back from the bed. "Because there haven't been any answering vibrations, his magic thinks its alone, and seeks to reenter the atmosphere. Which means, you simpletons, get out so I can keep this child from dying."

If Tony hadn't been so focused on the rise and fall of Harry's chest, he might have been impressed by the way everyone nearly sprinted out of the room. OF course they all crowded around the door, but Tony didn't care.

"Stark, you stay." Tony blinked. Had anything else been possible? "Hold his head."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to shock him. You will remember your mediwitches hitting James with many spells as a method of treatment." Tony nodded. "The same thing, except I have much more power at my disposal than they ever could."

Without waiting for Tony to respond, Loki drew his hands together then lay them flat on Harry's chest. A split second before the boy's frame arched off the bed Tony remembered to hold Harry's head, and then the fun began.

Much like a seizure, Harry's muscles all seized up. Unlike a seizure, Harry's body began to change colors. Tony watched his nephew cycle through blue then red then purple before the color changes became too vibrant and frequent for him to follow. He tucked his head against Harry's, praying the childcould hear him.

"Hang on, Harry. You hang on, you hear? Come back to me buddy. You only just got home. Don't leave yet."

It was a full 30 seconds after Loki released Harry from the magic shock that Harry woke up, panting.

Tony nearly cried. "There's my Harry. You're okay, buddy. You gave me a scare there for a minute, but you're okay."

Blurry green eyes swung around, focusing on him as the child squinted. "Dad?"

Something in him moved then, and for a moment Tony couldn't find his voice. "It's your Uncle Tony, Foxtrot. Remember, you came over to my place?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sorry." Harry blinked, hands clenching in the fabric of his tshirt where Tony had placed them. "Sorry. I remember. I remember, I do, I just - "

"Hey, it's okay." Tony was dimly aware that he held the boy against his chest, but Harry didn't seem to mind and Loki was too busy magicing to say anything against him. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine but, uh, kind of shaky? Like I've been running for a really long time?"

"Here, this should help." Harry pitched in Tony's arms as Loki leaned close to tuck the blanket around him, but he quickly settled down, pulling it up to his chest with a shudder.

"This is warm."

"You didn't mention you were cold before." Loki eyed the child intently, eyes roving over him, trying, Tony thought, to find any other symptoms the child might be hiding with his eyes alone.

"Didn't know I was." Harry curled in on himself, eyebrows furrowing as he clenched his eyes shut. "Thanks."

Loki took a deep breath. "How on earth are we supposed to help you, child, if you refuse to tel us what is wrong? Where are you in pain?"

Harry gave what might have been a whimper and curled tighter against Tony's chest. Tony glared at Loki, whose eyes narrowed dangerously.

With a truly impressive turn, Loki stalked to the other side of the room and glared. Then, he moved.

Tony had known in an abstract sort of way, that Loki was dangerous. He'd seen him make illusions and fight with Thor. He'd known that Loki had trained with Thor, sat through the crown prince regaling them of tales of battle, all of which Loki featured prominently in. He'd known, but never known. Loki moved with a grace that spoke death and sex, a combination Tony had always thought Nat had perfected. As it turns out,Loki did it better.

With almost unnatural grace Loki moved, spelling every and anything in the room. Bed, table, chair, carpet, over and over until some items fairly glowed. He sent a ball of fire racing for Harry's blanket that sunk into the fabric before the man had time to blink. The only reason Tony wasn't more alarmed was with every flick of Loki's wrist or jab of his palm, Harry uncoiled just a little bit more. The last spell to hit his blanket uncurled him completely, and it took a whole minute for Tony to realize Harry had gone limp. A quick check assured him Harry was still awake, but Tony was sure, by the look on the teen's face, that Harry'd like it very much if he could stay that way.

An hour later, Loki finally lowered his arms. Tony sat - because hello his knees were pushing forty he was not as young as he looked - with Harry still half draped over him - Bruce had tried convincing him that there was some magical equivalent to oxytocin from almost dying coursing through him and making him clingy but Tony had tuned him out - and tried to convey how impressed he was.

"That was the coolest thing I've ever seen. Even cooler than me, if you can believe it, but only because you did it for Harry."

Loki smirked. "You're welcome. I wager you're feeling better as well?"

Tony paused, caught. Bruce slipped into the room, making a beeline for him, eyes sparkling with barely concealed excitement.

"You look one hundred times better than before. I'd love to get you into the lab; your mineral levels must be off the charts. I don't think I've ever seen you look so - "

"Healthy," Steve butt in. Tony rolled his eyes. "You look good, Stark. Your color's good, and even, you look like you've never missed a night of sleep in your life - "

"You're the picture of health." Natasha flopped onto the bed near his feet. "The media is going to have a field day. 'Tony Stark gets healthy!' They'll be banging down the door by tomorrow."

"Yeah yeah, laugh it up. Whatever. Loki." Loki paused, eyes intent on the hallway beyond the door. Tony'd watched as he'd made himself as inconspicuous as possible and tried to make his escape, but Tony couldn't allow that.

"Yes, Stark."

"Thank you. Seriously. I owe you one."

Loki looked uncomfortable, then promptly disappeared.

"I apologize for my brother, friend Stark - " Thor began, rising.

"No, it's fine Thor. I'll catch up with him later."

"It looks like the light show has the little one all tuckered out." Natasha bent over Harry, who was wide awake, winked, and shot Tony a look. "And Tony may be the picture of health but I'm pretty sure even he needs a nap from all of Loki's mumbo-jumbo. Infirmary duty is over. Let's go watch wrestling."

Steve and Thor shot each other a look and shrugged. As they left, Bruce and Clint shared an amused look.

"That was weak, Tasha," Bruce said, holding the door - that was already wide open, mind you - open for her. "Since when do you watch wrestling?"

"Since the alternative was threatening to shoot you all," she answered primly.

"You could have just asked nicely, you know." Tony heard Bruce counter. They were probably two doors down by now.

"I don't do nice, Bruce." Tony heard Bruce snort, then silence.

Then, so low he almost didn't hear it "Liar."

In the privacy of his own mind Harry screamed.

It wasn't that he was in pain. Loki had somehow taken care of that. It wasn't that he was angry or anything. He'd just woken up with what felt like electricity but he knew was magic shocking him, somehow, and his heart racing and limbs shaking like he'd run a whole marathon. Everyone had been good about it, Tony hadn't been upset, Loki had even given him a really warm blanket, but Harry still didn't know why he'd needed to be shocked to wake up in the first place.

He hated not knowing things he felt he should know.

Still, he couldn't just come out and ask. Well he could, technically, but he didn't know how to go about it. Tony had stayed close and even let him borrow some body heat -it absolutely was not cuddling he was nearly fifteen he didn't need cuddles- and Harry was still getting used to these buildings in the US with air conditioning on all the time, so he was still sort of cold, and he didn't want Tony to push him away if he asked a rude question.

"I bet you want to know what happened. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around it myself, so I guess we can deal with it together."

Drat. "Sure, okay." Harry waffled a bit, before sighing. He didn't want to move. Harry shifted, prepared to roll over the man's thigh - it was only weird if he let himself think about it too long - onto the bed itself. Tony's arm tightened across his back, pulling him higher up on his chest, a soft, warm light peering through his soft shirt. Harry didn't want to think about how relieved he felt. He didn't want to think about how good it felt to be held and no have to worry about it being a dream. He pressed his face into the warm muscle cushioning his head - Tony smelt like motor oil and coffee and blueberries, oddly enough - and tried not to remember he was nearly fifteen, and too old for this.

"I just got you back, Harry. Humor your uncle for a little while longer, okay?"

Harry nodded into Tony's shirt. He didn't mind that at all. He felt so safe, so completely safe for the first time he could remember, that if he let himself he would cry. He ignored the few stray tears leaking out of his eyes. They didn't count.

"Apparently you and I have been out for two whole days."

"What!" Harry's head popped up. "We've been asleep for two days?"

"Mmhmm. Apparently I have just enough magic to have a negative reaction to a SHIELD sedative, which one of our housemates dosed me with the night you got here." Tony ran a hand through Harry's hair, and Harry felt himself melt again. "And you had the magic flu. It's not an actual flu," Tony hurried to add just as Harry moved to ask another question. "It's just what they call it when a magic user spends too much time in an environment where there is very little magic. Have you ever heard of echolocation?"

Harry nodded. "Dudley had a book on it once. He tore it up once he saw me reading it."

Tony frowned. "If you like books, I'll buy you a library. All the books you could ever read and no one can take them away from you, but I digress." He actually shook his head,like he had to force himself to focus. Harry suspected he did. "The same thing happened to your dad when he slept over the first time. The mediwitches explained it like echolocation; your magic pulses to send out signals and those signals bounce off of the magic of the things around you. When you're in a place without magic, your magic keeps sending out bigger and bigger pulses at a slower rate, because it's trying to find an answering signal. And when you use your magic you get tired, and since your magic is being used unconsciously, you don't know you need to rest and eat more to replenish, so you enter a magical sleep and can only be woken up with magic." Tony blinked at him. "Make sense?"

It did make sense. Harry nodded. "So Loki was spelling things so I could have something my magic could bounce off of."

"Yeah. We'll have to do some shopping in the local magical district so we don't burn him out."

Harry nodded, settling his head back to Tony's chest. Now that Tony had explained he had other questions. "Why would you need to be sedated the night I got here?"

"Oh boy."

Thus, Harry found out exactly who he was living with, exactly what they were capable of, and exactly what they knew about him.

"Sir, we have a security breach."

Tony stirred, blinking the light out of his eyes. The weight on his chest proved to be Harry - Harry! - and Tony needed a few seconds to get his bearings.

"Security breach?"

"It's Director Fury. He's in your private elevator, sir."

"Stall him as long as you can. Alert the others."

"In progress and done, sir."

"JARVIS, I love you."

"You should, sir."

Tony managed to get Harry settled in bed and had just made it off the bed when the messy head popped up and unfocused green eyes peered up at him. "Da - Uncle Tony?"

"Hey bud. I need you to stay here, okay? I'll explain everything later, but right now the Director of SHIELD is headed up here and I need to head him off. Stay here for me, please?"

Something crossed the teen's face, something couldn't read, and then Harry blanked. "Sure. I'll pretend I don't exist."

Tony's stomach plummeted. "Harry that's not what I mean - "

"It's fine. Don't you have to go?"

"Harry - "

"Sir, Director Fury has reached the main level."

"Go, it's fine." Harry sat up, pulling the blanket around his shoulders. "This is important. Don't worry about me, I won't move."

Tony internally swore, itching to punch Fury in the face. "I will be right back up here as soon as I can, okay? I promise. I'm not leaving you alone, Harry. You are safe with me."

Something in the teen's eyes shifted, softened. "Okay. You promise."

"I promise."

"Sir, Director Fury is attempting to take Mr. Loki into custody."

"I gatta go, Foxtrot."

Harry nodded, suddenly earnest. "Hurry!"

Tony waltzed into the living area like he owned it, which he did, but acting so always seemed to irritate Fury, who liked to think he owned them all. Steve and Clint seemed to be attempting to restrain a barely restrainable Thor. Nat sent him a look at clearly said 'Fix this and make it quick before Thor blows it all to pieces' and not 'You took too long to get down here you better fix this before I end you.'

Tony grinned.

"Fury, what are you doing with my minion? You've got a whole ship full of your own. Hands off." He crossed over to the bar and poured himself a drink. Sure he'd stopped drinking, but Fury didn't need to know that. He swirled his drink around for show, then crossed to the seating area.

Fury glared at him with his one good eye. "Why do I get the feeling that this is all your fault, Stark?"

Tony hmmed, flopping into the armchair nearest the TV. Loki stood nearby, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. "It probably is my fault, but you've got to be specific."

"You want to pretend you didn't know that a few short hours ago Loki cast enough magic to set the hellicarrier sensors off?"

"Oh, you pirates did pick that up. I wondered if you would. It was nothing. Loki was just showing me a few things."

Fury looked unimpressed. "For more than an hour?"

Tony sent him a flirty look. "They were very interesting things. I needed repeats." Clint snorted from somewhere above him and Tony smirked.

Fury leaned forward, no humor in his face. "The Council is getting nervous. It was all I could do to calm them down and keep them from ordering a strike on your precious tower."

"Is that what took you so long? I just thought you were slipping." Tony shrugged,

"What exactly is the Council's problem, sir?" Steve asked, shooting Tony a brief look of annoyance. "They didn't want Loki causing trouble, and he isn't."

"The Council doesn't believe Loki was being controlled by some big scary space alien in the sky. If Xavier hadn't shown me some of those images I wouldn't believe it either."

"But you have seen them." Tony pointed out. "Tell the Council to take a chill pill. Or get laid."

"Thank you, Stark," Fury glared. "What I know doesn't matter. The terms of Loki's pardon were that he not cast any magic - "

"In excess." Five voices chorused in response.

"As we've already discussed," Bruce spoke up from his spot near the door leading to the bedrooms, "Loki's magic is like a weed. Because of his nature as a Jotun, a race to which illusion comes naturally and because of the enchantments placed on him by Odin, Loki needs to exercise his magic to keep it from acting out."

"He hasn't cast any spells since he got here till three nights ago." Natasha met Fury's eyes evenly. "He's well within his limits."

"He hasn't been causing any trouble either," Clint offered from the vent above. "Well, he turned Thor's hair blue earlier today, but that doesn't count."

"It's not that simple." Fury frowned, crossing his arms. "They want a show of force, to remind him of his status here. I have to bring him in."

Tony slapped his glass on the table, ignoring the alcohol sloshing across its surface. "And then what? We have to break in to see him only to find him strapped to some table? Cut up and drained like the other aliens SHIELD's encountered? Don't forget, I hacked your files. I know what SHIELD does to individuals they can't control." Tony knew well what would happen to Loki if Fury let the WSC boss him around. And he was all for never letting that happen on his watch.

But he was also self-aware enough to know that underneath his desire to protect Loki was a burning, seething compulsion to protect Harry, and given what the teen could do, hell by his very presence in Tony's life all of a sudden, there was no chance that SHIELD would ever have a choice but to find answers, and that was a possibility Tony just couldn't deal with. "You remind the council of Xavier's findings. You remind them of the interrogations Loki's sat through, the full on confession he gave. Remind them that he'd been manipulated for a full year before he fell off the Bifrost and that time doesn't flow there like it does on earth. Remind them of Thanos' face, how much he loves torture, and if they still have a problem, remind them that we're the damn Avengers and if they want him they have to go through us first." It did not need to be said, though Tony was sorely tempted to, that Fury could also remind them that he hadn't been nicknamed The Merchant of Death for kicks.

Fury didn't look impressed, but he didn't press the issue either. Tony thought, as he relaxed into the cushions of his seat, that he deserved the remainder of his drink as a reward, but Fury's next question drove that thought from his mind.

"Whose bag is that?"

"What?" Tony looked around, but Fury leaned forward and pulled a used athletic backpack from beneath the coffee table. Harry's backpack. Tony wanted to swear.

"It's mine, sir." Steve spoke up. "I placed it there earlier today."

"This isn't SHIELD issue."

"No sir. I bought it for him," Clint answered from above. "I figured he needed something a bit more modern."

"I don't believe either of you." Fury glared at them all. "For one, Steve is too anal to leave his pack just anywhere. Two, you'd never buy something so cheap, Barton. We put you on a budget for a reason. Three, Stark looks like he would give anything for me to not look in this bag right now."

"It wasn't a serious purchase, sir. Meant to be a joke, but Cap's too sentimental for his own good."

"And in my defense, the last time I saw that bag I was drunk and thought looking through Steve's sketchbook was a good idea. I don't remember if I added to one of his drawings or not and Steve's got a mean right hook."

Shaking his head, Fury undid the zipper. Steve's "Sir, I'd really rather you not, " was ignored.

A dead cellphone. Map of New York city. A handkerchief. A set of sketchbooks and drawing pencils. A Starbucks giftcard. Fury set the items on the coffee table and leaned back. "Well, I have to hand it to you. I don't think you're telling the truth, but this is very convincing."

"That was unnecessary." Steve gave the director as close to a glare as Tony figured he dared.

Fury stood. "I don't trust any of you right now. I know you're hiding something. I suppose the only good thing is that you're all in it together, so it's either not too bad or so catastrophic you feel the need to keep it to yourselves. Either way, I don't like it. Loki, you get to see another day. Don't waste it." He moved toward the elevator, pulling his cloak tight around him. "By the way, the Avengers have been recognized as an official independent body like you asked. Congratulations, but be warned." Here, he turned to face them, piercing them all with his one beady eye. "I can't defend you from the nations of the world if I can't trust you."

"Sure you can," Tony quipped. "Lie."

Natasha shot Tony a glare. "You can trust us, sir."

Fury shook his head. "I doubt it." The elevator opened for him, and he was gone.

They all stood in silence, and Tony almost didn't believe they got off so easy. "Give me the all clear, JARVIS."Therewas several secondsoftense silence before the AI answered.

"All clear, sir. Director Fury has left the building. No surveillance devices were detected."

Tony didn't wait. Nat's voice followed his progress down the hall.

"Tony maybe we should consider - "

"No." Definitely not. That was a scenario Tony didn't have the mental capacity to indulge in without having to clamp down on something very primal rising in his chest. Damn it all. He broke into a run, suddenly needing to see Harry again.