Author: Dreaming of Words
Prompt: Steve Rogers centric; fingernail scratches against your thighs
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing, but I wish I did. And that superheroes were real.
Summary: "Unfortunately, it was very difficult to feel intelligent when living under the same roof as a billionaire genius engineer, a world-renown scientist in the field of gamma radiation, an honest-to-goodness Norse god, and two master spies-slash-assassins." When Steve knows something about the Super-Soldier Serum that the others don't he always feels just a tad bit smug. But not this time.

Notes: WARNING – The material in this chapter is dark. Please, if you struggle with mental health issues and other harmful behaviors, do not read this piece. I do not want to set anyone back in his or her recovery and/or progress.

That being said, I'm back with another prompt fill. I know that my last chapter also included Steve, but I did use a random generator to make up these prompts so I'm sorry if there are repeats. But, unless I say otherwise, the stories will not be related in any way. Please enjoy this chapter and drop me a review with your thoughts and reactions. ~Kay

PROMPT FILLS

Chapter 2: What Steve Rogers Knows (That the Team of Geniuses and Spies Doesn't)

Though people don't generally think of him as such, Steve Rogers is an intelligent man. He has an amazing head for tactics and a great aptitude for planning that is largely unparalleled by anyone that is not an artificial intelligence system, well… mainly just JARVIS. On a non-Captain America level, Steve Rogers also had a discerning eye for detail and a propensity for observation that granted him important insights into humanity and how the non-superhero/villain general public ticked. Unfortunately, it was very difficult to feel intelligent when living under the same roof as a billionaire genius engineer, a world-renown scientist in the field of gamma radiation, an honest-to-goodness Norse god, and two master spies-slash-assassins. So, understandably, Steve was always more than a tad smug when he knew something the others did not, especially when it was something related to himself or to the super-soldier serum.

But in this case, there was no smugness at his knowledge; just a deep-seated feeling of shame and disgust. It took the edge off the bitterness that constricted his throat and made him feel as if the Hulk was slowly crushing his windpipe.

Steve shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of his teammates, feeling all five pairs of eyes brand his skin with white-hot judgment. His temperature started climbing under the heat of their stares and an odd fluttering sensation tickled his breastbone as his system flooded with adrenaline and his heart started beating double-time in his ears. Clearing his throat nervously, acutely aware that Captain America was nowhere in sight and had left Steve Rogers to fend for himself, Steve shuffled awkwardly and mumbled, "Don't worry. I know why my wrist isn't healing as fast as my ribs did. It's fine, okay? Just leave it alone."

Natasha's eyes narrowed suspiciously but she remained silent, just assessing him. Steve tried to meet her eyes to show her that nothing was wrong but quickly looked away, unable to maintain the Black Widow's penetrating gaze. Clint gave him a once over before shrugging, unwilling to pry into the other man's business. Whatever the Captain knew obviously made him uncomfortable, so why force him to tell? Bruce mirrored Steve's awkwardness, pushing his glasses up his nose and half-heartedly tugging at a frayed cuff. Thor looked around obliviously, uncaring of what exactly the answer was as long as Steve knew the reasoning. But Tony? Tony's response was by and far the most volatile of the five.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" the shorter man growled, stepping into Steve's space. Steve's eyes snapped up, locking onto Tony and suddenly he felt his skin itch, too tight and too hot in the shrinking space. "You can't just fucking say things like that and expect us to drop it, Capsicle. We are your teammates, your family, for God's sake; we will always worry!"

Slightly taken aback at the worry and conviction in the engineer's tone, Steve looked away, the itch beneath his skin starting to turn into a wildfire. His fingers twitched with suppressed need as he murmured, "You don't need to worry though, Tony. None of you need to worry." With that, Steve stepped back hurriedly, trying to put some space between him and the shorter man.

"Well, too fucking bad, Boy Scout," Tony snorted, following Steve as he stepped away. "We'll worry anyway. You are too big a part of our lives to not care about. And I for one am not going to turn a blind eye to something that's wrong with you!"

Steve's breathing had gotten heavier throughout Tony's rant and the itching had turned into a burning sensation that needled him like no other. Shoving his hands into his pockets and digging his nails into his legs trying to abate the discomfort he felt, Steve exhaled heavily and glared at Tony, the source of his current dis-ease. "Tony, just leave it alone," he said firmly. "This has nothing to do with you, absolutely nothing, so stop trying to make this about you."

Tony blinked once, twice, silent in the face of Steve's words and admittedly low blow. Tony's mute observation only made everything worse, heightening Steve's discomfort to the point of acute pain. Panting harshly a few times, Steve glanced around the room wildly before turning and sprinting from the room. The walls became a blur of neutral tones and sounds and faint impressions until Steve got to his room. Shoving the door open and slamming it closed behind him, Steve paced agitatedly, scoring raised red marks into the skin of his neck and feeling blood well up beneath his fingernails. The faint pain he caused himself did nothing to alleviate the agony he was enduring.

A whine escaped his throat without his permission as he threaded his fingers through his hair and tugged, trying to drown out the pressing need he felt to rid himself of this aching. Hunching down in the corner and folding himself into a ball, Steve shivered as waves of pain overtook him, sinking him into a sea of agony. Finally, Steve screamed as he sprang up, rifling through his drawers like a man possessed.

"JARVIS!" he yelled, fingers finally closing on a worn leather case, so old that the once black leather had turned a soft brown. "Yes, Captain Rogers?" the AI responded. His fingers twitching on the cover of the case, Steve fought to steady his voice. "I'm instituting Total Override Code Buchanan. No one gets in or out until I give you the secondary code."

After a moment of silence, the AI seemed to sigh heavily before intoning, "Of course, Captain Rogers. Total Override Code engaged." Steve exhaled shakily, his fingers tightening over the leather case in desperation as he tripped over himself in his rush to get to the bathroom. Locking the door behind him, Steve sat down heavily, his knees trembling as he unzipped the case to expose its contents.

Rows upon rows of silver razors glinted up at him, varying in size and sharpness as they went along. Selecting one and lifting it with reverent fingers, a small smile graced his lips as he rolled up his pant legs to expose the expanse of his thighs, silvered with scars that twisted and twined like vines all over his skin. Pressing the blade to his skin, Steve felt the pressure that had been bottled up inside of him, the pain he had been suffering from, lessen almost immediately. As the blade carved deeply into his skin, he felt the anxiety and pain bleed out in time with the blood seeping from his wounds. After his fifth cut on his other leg, he leaned back against the wall with a numb haze swirling in his mind and a pleasant hum suffused beneath his skin. He was at peace, a peace that only the slide of the blade against the skin of his thighs afforded him.

After a while, that pleasant feeling faded away leaving a knot of guilt and shame twisted in the space his heart should be. Sighing heavily and running his hands over his face, Steve stood up cautiously and began cleaning up after himself: first the blades, then the wounds on his legs and neck, then his hands, all scrubbed clean and sanitized like it had almost never happened. Zipping up the case, Steve left the sanctuary of his bathroom. Wincing as his cuts pulled and left a soft haze of protection from his emotions, a smile quirked up Steve's lips as he finished replacing the case in his dresser drawer. Uncaring of anything except that the pain was gone, Steve called up to JARVIS, "Engage Secondary Code Carter. Open everything up."

Immediately, JARVIS responded, "Yes, Captain Rogers. Secondary code engaged." The click of the locks releasing was music to Steve's ears as he turned away to start tidying up his destroyed room. Humming tunelessly under his breath, Steve methodically folded and put away his clothing and righted anything he had knocked over in his haste to find some relief until a cough startled him from his reverie.

Feeling his stomach plummet to his knees, Steve froze and turned around slowly to face the entire Avengers Initiative. Five pairs of eyes stared at him fixedly, unblinking, and Steve felt a bead of sweat drip down the back of his neck. Turning about quickly to run to the relative safety of his bathroom, Steve hissed as his cuts pulled and began bleeding heavier than before staining his pants with bloody claw marks. Trying the bathroom door and finding it locked, Steve cursed and glared at the ceiling knowing that JARVIS was to blame for his failed escape attempt.

Pressing his forehead to the locked door, he shut his eyes and tried to steady his heartbeat. "Is there any way you all could think that those were just aggressive fingernail scratches on my thighs?" he joked half-heartedly, facing his team once more.

Silence weighed heavily on the group for moments that stretched like years in Steve's mind before Tony stepped out of the rest of his team. "I think you already know the answer to that, Cap," Tony said quietly, eyes fixed on the bloody marks marring Steve's khaki pants.

Steve's vision blurred as tears obscured his vision and he felt his lips pull up in a smile as they spilled over his cheeks leaving silver-bright trails down his clammy skin. "No, I didn't think so."