Thanks so much for the reviews and sorry for the wait on this part. I keep losing my italics and other formatting.

Part 4

Nearly two hours had passed since… well, since Tony had been subjected to whatever the hell in that claustrophobic stairwell. Tony really didn't know why Steve had to keep using such modern terms like 'sexual assault' and 'attempted rape' – terms that Tony had assumed weren't even assimilated into Steve's updated vocabulary. Anyway, it hadn't gotten that far, wouldn't have gotten that far. Steve had stopped it from happening.

Nothing happened!

Tony scrubbed at his arms harder, attempting to erase the bruises that formed the telltale shape of fingerprints. Philip's fingerprints. On his shoulders, the side of his neck… and then there were the ones that were much darker, lower on his body. Clinging to his narrow hips, scratching down his thighs. Filthy markings that defiled his body and plagued his mind.

Growling with frustration and disgust, Tony continued to scrub with the coarse sponge that was really supposed to be used to remove the hard calluses from the bottoms of his feet. Above his head, the steaming hot water of the shower continued to drench him, plastering his dark hair to his skin, washing away the thin stream of blood from the open cuts that he angrily rubbed at.

From outside, a harsh banging shook the bathroom door. "Tony! Are you okay in there?"

Steve again.

Why couldn't he leave well enough alone?

Unbidden, the feeling of being pressed against Steve's powerful chest, those muscular arms cradling him so carefully, burned through Tony's mind like a memory given life. The only real and true friend that he held dear in life had literally saved him from a fate worse than death. He couldn't imagine having survived that kind of ultimate violation with his sanity intact. Just the mere thought made him wish that he'd never stopped drinking.

"Tony!"

Backing up until his back was flush against the white tiles of the shower stall, Tony swallowed down the rushing tide of nausea that threatened to drown him and forced out a solicitous response.

"Couldn't be better. Wanna join me?"

A predictable length of silence followed that invitation, just as Tony had been hoping for. Throw Steve off balance. Don't allow him to realize the truth – that Tony was in absolutely no condition to be claiming to be fine and unaffected by what had happened. He honestly didn't know how he was feeling, how he should be feeling, what he should be doing. He shouldn't even be dwelling on an appropriate reaction because nothing had happened.

"Actually… under the circumstances… I think that might be best," Steve answered before testing the doorknob to find it locked. "Can you let me in?"

Tony opened his mouth to express his shock at Steve's unusual request… only to find that no words were coming out. Why did Steve want to come in? What would he say? He couldn't possibly want to see Tony after what had happened? To see all of the wretched markings on his body – his tainted flesh.

"Tony…"

There was no getting rid of Steve once he set his mind on something. It was annoyingly obvious that he'd set his mind on getting into the bathroom and nothing short of Tony opening the door would appease him now.

"Okay…," Tony shut off the water and rolled his eyes at Steve's persistent nature. That was one of the character traits that he found the most endearing about his good friend. And attractive. To think that he'd actually deluded himself into believing that Steve might desire him as anything more than a friend. What the hell had he been thinking? Even if Steve did swing both ways, he would never consider hooking up with an individual as screwed up as Tony. "Hold on…" Wrapping himself in the biggest towel he could get his hands on – a red, white, and blue striped one – he carefully unlocked the door and peered out. "What?"

There Steve stood with his hands fisted at his sides in an attempt to keep his arms down. At first, he only sighed visibly, relieved to see that Tony hadn't been trying to drown himself in the tub. "You've been in there for over an hour. I was beginning to worry…"

"I think you mean to say, 'panic'," Tony corrected cheekily. "Well, now that you can see that I wasn't doing anything stupid, you can go back to whatever it was that you were doing."

"Move away from the door."

Having absolutely no idea why Steve was behaving so aggressively, Tony doubled up his defenses by leaning against the door and glaring into his friend's strained azure eyes. "I really appreciate what you did for me tonight," he began in a dangerously quiet voice, "more than you'll ever realize. And I owe you… big time. But, right now… I need you to back off."

"That's never worked in the past and we both know it." Steve placed the palm of his right hand firmly on the door, preventing Tony from slamming it shut in his face. "I don't want to hurt you so please move away from the door." When Tony put his weight into trying to close it again, Steve just about growled in frustration. "Dammit, Tony. This may work with Jarvis but I'm a lot heavier and stronger than he is. You're going to force me to damage something."

Steve did have a point. The door had begun to make desperate creaking noises, which were bound to wake up the other occupants in the mansion if they weren't careful.

"Fine. You win." Tony moved away from the door, drawing the towel tighter around his shoulders.

Steve tentatively entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and looked Tony over. "That's my towel," he exclaimed automatically, forgetting the seriousness of the situation for a moment to ponder how he felt about Tony being wrapped up in something that belonged to him.

"Is it? Sorry."

"It's okay." Instinctively, Steve reached out to tug the towel away from Tony's neck, wanting to inspect the chafing bruises that had been left behind by Tony's jacket and overlapped by the violent way that Philip had grabbed Tony. Tony wasn't fast enough to prevent him from seeing the raw, bloody patch of skin that was staining the white area of the towel. "Tony… what have you been doing to yourself?" Steve gasped in dismay, yanking the towel out of Tony's grasp to expose similar injuries leading down the man's bruised torso.

"Disinfecting," Tony snarled miserably.

"Like hell!" Pulling the towel back up to conceal the markings once more, Steve wrapped an arm around Tony's shoulders and urged him out of the bathroom.

"Now what?"

Not trusting himself to speak, Steve practically dragged Tony to his bedroom, only releasing him once he'd locked the door. He watched Tony's eyes flit nervously to the door and then to the bed, and finally to the heavy, circular shield resting in one corner.

Ignoring Tony's trapped expression, Steve crossed the room to retrieve a handful of items from his desk drawer. A bottle of antiseptic, a soothing lotion, some gauze, and band-aids. Then, he sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot beside him. "Sit down and let me treat those nasty cuts."

"I'm fine," Tony insisted.

"Your method of disinfecting really makes me think otherwise. Now either you sit down voluntarily or I drag you over here myself."

One look at Steve's determined expression and Tony was convinced that he'd been given no idle threat. Not really liking the fact that he was being bullied into cooperating, he gingerly sat down beside Steve, constantly aware of the most painful areas of his thighs as he moved. He said nothing when Steve pulled the towel away from his body, draping it respectively over his lap. There was a brief pause while Steve dampened the sterile gauze in the antiseptic, and then Tony felt a stinging pain at the side of his neck. He hissed and shied away from Steve, but his friend shifted closer to continue his ministrations.

"Ouch! What is that shit? Acid?"

"Sorry. I'm trying to go as fast as I can." Steve concentrated on keeping his hands steady as his anger increased minutely. Aside from the self-inflicted damage that Tony had caused, the distinctly shaped bruising disturbed Steve greatly. Philip had punched Tony in the ribs at one point, luckily not hard enough to break anything, but any higher and he might have successfully dislodged the arc reactor. Mindful of Tony's pain and discomfort, Steve rushed through the treatment, nearly biting his tongue as he restrained himself from commenting on how deep some of the cuts were.

When Steve was halfway through applying the lotion, gently with the tips of his fingers, he risked peering down into Tony's face. Tony's eyes were pinched shut as he forced himself to endure what was being done, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere because his cheeks and ears were a crimson red, and his facial muscles twitched reflexively against whatever dark thoughts he was preoccupied with. His dark eyelashes appeared to be damp, shining with the tears that he refused to shed. Seeing Tony so uncharacteristically overwhelmed with shame broke Steve's resolve then and there.

"Tony, I'm sorry." Acting impulsively, Steve caught Tony in an awkward embrace, pulling the smaller man back against his chest. "I'm so, so sorry."

That act of compassion and the unshielded emotion in Steve's voice jarred Tony out of the hellish memory that he'd been reliving. "Why?" Why should Steve be sorry? Steve had been the one who had come rushing to the rescue. How he had gotten there so fast and where he had come from were questions that Tony wished to ask but couldn't quite work up the courage to voice them.

"I saw you leave with him. I got a really bad feeling… just by watching the way he herded you out the door." Steve cleared his throat when the guilt that he felt began to torment his words. "I should've intervened… I should've stopped him. But… I hesitated."

Tony froze, confused to hear that Steve hadn't left the party directly after claiming to have been bored. Even more shocked upon realizing that Steve had witnessed it happening and might've been able to prevent it. But believing such a thing was just being cruel and unfair towards Steve. How could he have possibly anticipated what would've happened next? Steve had no say in the idiotic actions that Tony alone was responsible for. "You're joking, right?"

"No, I'm dead serious."

"Why the hell are you blaming yourself?"

Because I made you feel rejected. Because I let you get hurt. "If I had acted on my instincts…"

"Why didn't you?" There was not even a sliver of accusation in Tony's voice.

Because I thought that I had no right to be jealous. I had no claim on you. "I… wasn't sure," he replied simply.

"Exactly! Unless you suddenly developed clairvoyance overnight, there was no way you could've known. And, like I said before, nothing terrible happened."

From behind, Steve brought his hand up to brush the backs of his fingers against Tony's cheek. "Sure," he said softly, drying the tears that Tony had been hoping to hide. If it makes you feel better, keep telling yourself that it was nothing. But that 'nothing' is going to haunt me for a very, very long time. "You need to get some rest."

"Don't need it," Tony objected, but did nothing to prevent Steve from positioning them further up the bed. He was too tired to feel embarrassed when Steve took the damp towel and launched it onto the floor, replacing it with a warm blanket. And then Steve was lying back against the pillows, pulling Tony down with him. Tony lay there with his head on Steve's chest, startled by the intimate way that Steve seemed to be embracing him. One arm was loosely draped over his waist, the other over his shoulders. And now Steve had pressed the palm of his hand against the side of Tony's face, his thumb idly tracing the tears that refused to stop. "Why?" Tony choked out, his voice breaking into a sob. No, no, no, no! Not in front of him… I can't… But it was too late. The tenderness of the moment, the gentleness of Steve's touch, it proved to be too much for Tony. He continued to fight it even as the sobs became more vocal.

"I won't let him hurt you ever again," Steve vowed, stroking Tony's back and tightening the embrace as his friend cried against him.

No more was said between them. Eventually, Tony wore himself out and quieted down, his breathing still hitching now and then but otherwise calm. Steve waited until he was sure that Tony was fast asleep before pressing a kiss to his friend's forehead and reaching across to the bedside table to flick off the light. It wasn't until a long while later that he himself drifted off into an unpleasant sleep.

To be continued…