"No." Tony slapped Steve's hand away from the boxes of Chinese food. "You can sit there and watch me eat, or you can go do something, and make yourself useful." Steve nodded his head slightly.

"What would you like me to do?" Steve asked quietly. His normally bright eyes had dulled. His neck had a large bruise, along with many large hickeys and bruises covered his neck and the top of his back. He could feel the blood slowly seeping out of him. The blood and the other thing.

Steve shuddered.

His hands shook, and his ankle swelled, and the bruise on his knee throbbed. His arms were wrapped around his body, and all he could do was smell the food, but he couldn't eat because he was too fat. His head hurt, and his leg bounced, and his breath was slightly labored.

"You're filthy. Go shower. Then wash the sheets, make the bed, and wash the dishes." Tony kept eating, and working on his phone. Steve waited to see if he would continue his demands, but walked away when he knew Tony was done.

He went to what was supposed to be his floor, and his room. He was excited to have the privacy. He walked to the master bathroom and turned on the shower. Steve sighed. There was probably a camera in here watching him. He tapped the faucet to adjust it and casually looked around the room.

Top right corner of the shower. A slight red flash.

Steve got in the shower. It was cold. He cranked the faucet to the left, he wanted it to be as hot as possible. The water got colder. Steve forced the faucet the other way. He waited for a moment, but the water got even colder. Steve's teeth chattered as he thought about the camera, and just washed himself as quick as possible.

Steve searched through his clothes, but wasn't able to find anything his taste. All his old clothes were gone, Tony had replaced his clothes. Steve grabbed a random outfit and put it on.

He got on the elevator to Tony's floor, and went quietly to the bedroom. He stripped the sheets of the bed, put them in a basket, and went to his own floor. Tony had put a laundry room on his floor when he had originally designed the floors for each team member. Tony knew Steve wouldn't want people doing his laundry, and the machine in the basement was too public.

Steve sat in the elevator reflecting on that time. Before he dated Tony. When he and Peter decided to stay in the tower because it would be easier on Steve and more fun for Pete. When Steve and Tony started dating, the transition was gradual. Steve talked to Peter about spending more time on Tony's floor, and Peter was excited to have Steve's floor to himself.

The doors opened, startling Steve. He walked out and swiftly made his way to the washing machine. There was still detergent that he and Peter used before they left. When he had finished putting the laundry in, Steve took a breath. His hands still shook and he felt jumpy.

"Steve?" Tony's voice came over the speakers. "Your phone is ringing. I'm putting it over the speakers so you can talk."

"Wha-"

"Dad?"

"Peter! How are you?"

"I'm alright. Are you okay?"

"Yeah Pete! I'm doing good. How are Sam and Bucky?"

"They're fine. I can't tell if they hate each other or not." Peter laughed. "When are you coming back?"

"I don't know yet. When I figure it out I'll let you know."

"Okay." Peter paused. "Dad, did you get a chance to talk to Pepper? I know your busy, but I'd really like to talk to her."

"Not yet. I will though. Are you sure you are ready for that?"

"Yes? If she's my real mother then I really want to get to know her, if that's okay. I want to get to know her. I have questions I want to ask if I can."

"Of course it's okay, and I understand. I promise I'll get too it soon."

"Thanks Dad! Talk to you later!"

"Love you Pete. Bye."

Steve had a sad smile on his face.

"Steve?" Tony had walked into the room, startling Steve. "We should talk."

"Uh-"

"Please." Tony wasn't begging. He was demanding. He took Steve's hand and lead him into the living room. He pushed Steve onto the couch, and sat in the chair across from him.

They sat in silence for a bit, but Steve knew better than to start the conversation. He kept his body rigid, and his eyes downcast.

"What the hell was Peter talking about?"

"What do you m-"

"Don't bullshit me Steve!" He yelled. "He's Pepper's son?"

Steve's body just trembled.

"Answer me!" Tony stood up and yelled.

"Yes." Steve whispered back.

"Why didn't you tell me? He's what? Seventeen?"

"Sixteen." He quietly corrected.

"Fuck." Tony screamed.