Half Brothers

Atticus Thorne pulled off his enchanted gloves with a soft snap. The healer was calm, professional—but there was something in his expression that said this isn't going to be easy.

Tony absolutely hate the hospitals for once in his life he came here willingly—Well, Amelia force him, that woman is scary— but he did it for Harry. His baby brother.

Tony cleared his throat, forcing a wry smile. "So… you gonna tell me I'm gonna drop dead next Tuesday, or is that too optimistic?"

Atticus chuckled gently. "You're not dying next Tuesday."

"Wednesday then," Tony quipped, but his voice lacked the usual snark.

The healer grew more serious. "I imagine this isn't your first magical consultation."

Tony's gaze dropped to the arc reactor glowing in his chest. "I've talked to two magical healers. One in New York, the other in Dublin. Both said there were risks. My body's not magical, and potions—even diluted—could cause internal rejection. Magical backlash. One of them even said I might explode."

"Dramatic," Atticus muttered, then nodded. "But not entirely wrong. Magical potions do contain elemental auras. If your body doesn't know how to channel magic—or has never been 'awakened' magically—then yes. Some potions would destabilize your vitals. It's like pouring electricity into a candle."

Tony snorted. "Awesome. Love being compared to a candle."

"But," Atticus said, holding up a hand, "there's a way."

Tony looked up, skeptical. "There's always a way. What's the catch?"

"You'll need to remain here for at least a day. Asleep. Sedated." He gestured toward a thickly warded room behind a set of enchanted curtains. "The procedure involves a magical field that slows your internal systems just enough for us to extract the shrapnel. Then, we'll use a blend of stabilization runes, enhanced surgical charms, and a blood-cleansing ritual designed for high-risk patients."

Tony blinked. "You're serious."

"Very."

Tony stared down at his hands. He hated hospitals. Hated being helpless. Sedation? That was a hard no.

"I don't… like being touched," he said after a pause. "Not unconscious. Not strapped in. That's not really my style.... And... I was torture"

Amelia Bones, who had stayed uncharacteristically quiet at the side of the room, finally stepped forward. "You won't be alone, Tony."

He glanced at her, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

"I'll be here," she said simply. "I'll bring Sirius, Remus, and Johnny. Hell, I even bring that annoyed AI of yours somehow if possible"

"I'm not annoying," Jarvis chimed politely from Tony's wrist.

"Not the time, J," Tony muttered. His fingers twitched against the edge of the bed. Although, that makes me comfortable knowing Jarvis is here. And others too.

Then he leaned back and let out a sharp breath. His voice was lower now. Tired.

"I don't wanna die, Amelia."

She didn't flinch.

"I want to be there for Harry. He's just a kid, and he's already had… too much. I don't want to leave him wondering why I disappeared."

"You won't," she said firmly.

Tony nodded slowly, then looked toward the ceiling. "Alright. Let's do this."

"I'll arrange everything for tomorrow morning," Atticus said. "We'll begin once the ward is cleared and the spells are in place. I'll also notify our Rune Specialist. She'll inscribe the arcane bindings tonight."

Tony didn't answer right away.

He looked at Amelia. "Can you contact Rhodey? Let him know I'm… staying put. Have him talk to Pepper. Just don't let her go full CEO-on-fire mode."

Amelia nodded. "Consider it done."

"I'll send Jarvis to send all system data to Rhodey too," Tony added. "And keep him patched in. In case something happens."

Amelia placed a hand gently on his shoulder—brief, grounding, real.

"You're not alone in this, Tony, Not anymore."

Tony nodded again, this time with a little more strength. "Tell Sirius… he's not allowed to cry. And Remus is banned from reciting Shakespeare over my unconscious body. And Johnny—well, just keep him"

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Get some rest."

Tony leaned back on the stiff bed and exhaled, letting his eyes close briefly.

Maybe—just maybe—this was the right choice.

Because if it meant being there for Harry, protecting his brother, and building a future where no one could hurt that kid again…

Then a day of discomfort was a price he could pay.

"Gosh I love being dramatic"

He swore he heard a snort and even if his eyes are close he knows Amelia roll her eyes. After a while, It was comfort he felt and relaxation as he falls asleep.