- IV -

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(A/N: Please note that this chapter contains graphic description of Harry's injuries, as well as mention of sexual and physical abuse. Also, yes I know that a helicopter ride from England to NYC would be out of the question for someone in Harry's condition, but he's magic so just go with it. Once again, thanks for reading!)

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"Stay with me Harry," Tony cried, glancing into the rearview mirror as he sped into the deserted back parking lot of the hotel where his helicopter was landed.

Harry was curled up in the backseat, breathing labored and wheezy. He felt bad for getting blood all over Tony's expensive seats, but at the moment that was the least of either his and Tony's concerns.

"Tony!" Bruce cried, pushing a stretcher, as instructed by Tony over the phone. "What's going on?"

"Holy shit," Clint breathed, seeing Harry through the car window.

Without answering Clint nor Bruce, Tony hurriedly opened the back of the car and bundled Harry into his arms carefully.

"Stay awake, okay? We've got you kid," Tony murmured to Harry, lying him very gently on the stretcher, careful to mind the large gashes on Harry's back.

"What happened?" Clint asked, looking over Harry's body, taking in all of his injuries.

"We've got to get him back to Stark Towers immediately. Bruce, I need you to just trust me at the moment and help me fix him. If I told you what happened, I have a feeling the Other Guy would be making an appearance pretty quickly, and that wouldn't help matters."

"Just tell me what I'm treating," Bruce growled. Clint placed a protective hand on his shoulder to remind him to stay calm.

"This is Harry. What I know for sure is some semi to severe burns on the arms and legs as well as his right ear, a compound fracture of the left wrist, a compound fracture of the right tibia, but there may be more unseen fractures of these limbs. I'm guessing a concussion, and possibly some broken ribs. He's got several deep wounds in his back, a few looking infected, and a few look burnt. What I'm most concerned about, however, is the possibility of a collapsed or punctured lung."

"Jesus," Clint muttered, staring at the small kid on the stretcher.

"Let's go!" Tony shouted, guilt filling him when he saw Harry flinch.

Quickly but carefully, Tony, Bruce and Clint all worked to load Harry into the helicopter.

"I brought several supplies, but I don't have everything to stabilize him now," Bruce told Tony as they began to take off.

"Harry, don't close your eyes, kid. I know it hurts, but I need you to hang on," Tony ordered. Clint slid past him and placed an oxygen mask over Harry's mouth and nose. He then clipped a heart rate monitor on Harry's finger before gently sticking a few electrodes to Harry's chest and side.

"Okay Harry, I'm Bruce and this is Clint. I'm going to get an IV started, okay? Just a small poke and then you'll feel a rush of cold," Bruce warned, pulling packages open and tying a tourniquet around Harry's right arm to find a good vein.

"Alright, it's going in your hand. Three... two...one," Bruce walked him through what was going on. Quickly, he hooked Harry up to the bag of fluids.

Suddenly, Harry felt as if his throat had totally closed. It was if Uncle Vernon's hand was wrapped around his neck, constricting his airways.

"Harry?" Tony asked when he heard the boy make a small gasping noise. "Harry!"

Harry was now gasping for air, despite the oxygen mask. Everything around him was going dark around the edges, and he could hear Tony calling his name, but he couldn't do anything. His chest felt as if it was on fire as he tried desperately to get air.

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