It Only Takes a Second

- VII -

"Shh," Tony whispered, brushing Harry's ever unruly hair behind his ear. He didn't miss how Harry winced at his touch, but he didn't push him away.

"Almost done, bud. Just hang in there for one more second," Bruce winced as he eased the  tube out of Harry's throat.

With one final gag, Harry was sent into a coughing fit as Bruce removed the rest of the tube that had once been connecting him to the ventilator.

It had been four days since Harry's transplant and he was already looking much better. The kidney took and was now helping Harry, unlike his previous two. Bruce and Dr. Morris had decided that, based on Harry's recent test results, his lungs were strong enough to breathing support Harry's breathing on their own, with the help of a nasal cannula.

"You did so good, kid," Tony praised, grabbing the cup of ice chips from the bedside table. Harry, not liking to ask for help, tried to reach for the cup to do it himself, but Tony just frowned.

"I've got it, you just relax. Enjoy being pampered," Tony reassured, a joking tone in his voice. But despite the kindness in Tony's voice, panic began building in Harry's chest. The only time someone had ever told him to 'just relax' it ended with Uncle Vernon...

Harry began trembling at the though of his uncle forcing himself upon his unwilling body, with no possible escape.

Harry's chest began constricting, causing him to draw in short and fast breaths.

"Harry? Harry!" Tony exclaimed, as Harry began gasping for breath. "Bruce! Help him! Maybe- maybe he wasn't ready to do this on his own after all!"

Bruce rushed to Harry's bedside, holding an oxygen mask to Harry's face. He frowned when he glanced at the heart rate monitor next to the bed.

"Deep breaths, Harry," Bruce soothed, holding the mask firmly in place while looking Harry directly in the eye. Harry immediately looked away, as not to make eye contact with the man standing over him. It was something that had been drilled into him since he was a child.

"Harry look at me," Bruce said firmly, but there was a softness to his words instead of anger. "You're having a panic attack. Just focus on me and taking deep breaths."

Harry held eye contact with Bruce until breathing was easier, and he no longer needed the mask.

Bruce sighed and replaced the oxygen mask with a simple nasal cannula, carefully looping it around Harry's ears and into his nose as not to startle him.

Tony had been sitting there wordlessly the entire time, the color of a ghost. The panic in his chest when Harry began hyperventilating was heavy, and even now that the danger was gone, it was taking a bit to wash away all of the worry.

"I'm sorry if I scared you kiddo," Tony apologized. "I didn't mean to. I really didn't."

"S'okay," Harry managed to croak. His throat felt raw from the tube, and his mouth was so dry that he couldn't hardly make any noise.

"Here," Tony carefully held up a spoonful of ice chips, making sure Harry saw it before he brought it to his chapped lips. This time, Harry didn't try to argue, he just opened his mouth willingly, eager for the refreshing taste.

Those ice chips were the best things that Harry had ever tasted, he decided then. Forget any of the food at Hogwarts, or Molly Weasley's famous pastries— these were the absolute best thing on the planet.

Without realizing he was doing so, Harry opened his mouth for more.

"You remind me of a baby bird," Tony teases, chuckling as he fed Harry another spoonful. "That's exactly how they look when waiting for their mom to come back to the nest with food."