Archive of Our Own ^beta

Captain Steven Rogers; alt: Steve Rogers

Title use priority: Active

Resident status: Permanent

Privacy protocols: Engaged

Audio/visual: Yes

Vital signs: Yes

Recording: No

Tracking: No

Age: 26

Blood type: O+

Abnormalities: Yes

Abnormality type: ref: Super Soldier Serum

Designation: Submissive

Current Status:...

Calculating...

Calculating...

JARVIS watches Steve prepare to leave the Tower. There is a high likelihood he is leaving to rendezvous with his contracted dom, Brock Rumlow. Steve has been a resident of the Tower for three months and two weeks. Every Friday he leaves the Tower for Brock’s residence.

On average he returns three to four hours later, though on occasion he is absent for up to three days.

Steve is displaying signs of apprehension. His pulse is elevated, his pupils dilated. His perspiration rate has increased by thirty percent. He doesn’t remain still for long as he gets ready, his hands squeezing into fists over and over, before getting wiped on his pants as he paces back and forth between rooms.

Ref: Sir awaiting Obadiah Stone; 08/04/2007.

“Can I be of any assistance, Captain?” JARVIS asks, noting how Steve jumps at his voice. In the months since he became a resident, the Captain has become used to JARVIS’ presence. He even trusts the privacy protocols in place enough to allow him audio and visual access, which he refused when he first arrived.

However, in times of heightened awareness, Steve has a tendency to startle at unexpected movement or noise.

His pulse rate spikes for a moment before dropping back to its previous pace. He tugs sharply at the cuff of his sleeve before his hand goes to touch his pants pocket where he keeps his pocket knife.

Self-soothing: ref: Self-harm behaviours; Rogers_2012.

“No, I’m okay,” he tells JARVIS, running a hand through his hair. His eyes dart around his room and his jaw clenches. His other hand presses harder at his pocket before he takes a deep breath.

“I’ll be leaving soon. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

“I will have the shower ready,” JARVIS tells him. Ninety-five percent of the time Steve returns from his sessions with Brock to immediately shower. JARVIS does not have enough data right now to calculate what his emotional or physical status will be upon returning.

In his camera view, Steve tries to smile in thanks, but it dies quickly, his face tight with anxiety. He checks his pockets for his train pass four times before grimacing at his watch and finally stepping out of the room.

JARVIS follows him with his cameras until he is out of the building.

Current status: Distressed.

Steve returns four and a half hours later. His body is no longer sprung tight, his eyes no longer jumping at every movement. His gaze doesn’t waver from a dead stare as he slumps into the elevator and JARVIS takes him to his floor.

It takes four point two seconds for Steve to exit the lift once it arrives. His gait is uneven when he steps forward with his right foot. The cuffs of his shirt remain unbuttoned in uncharacteristic slovenliness and it takes him eleven seconds in front of his door before he reaches for his key to unlock it.

Inside the apartment, Steve’s behaviour degrades further. He forgets to take off his shoes and bumps into the kitchen island as he stumbles his way to his room.

JARVIS has the shower running as promised, having begun to heat the water the moment Steve re-entered the Tower. Steve continues to stare blankly ahead as he makes it to the bathroom. His hands shake as he fumbles with the buttons of his shirt.

He pulls too hard and a button snaps off, but he doesn’t react. His breaths have gotten louder, more distressed as he tugs off his clothing. His skin becomes visible and JARVIS begins cataloguing his injuries.

Injuries:

Self-harm cuts: two days and older

Bruising on chest and nipples: fresh

Welts on back and thighs: fresh

Redness on genitals and groin: fresh

Limp: fresh

Blood: No

The areas appear to have been cleaned. JARVIS can see remnants of some kind of ointment on Steve’s back and thighs, suggesting aftercare treatment.

Life-threatening injuries: No.

Steve nearly trips on the small lip of the shower and he grunts in pain as he catches himself. He’s shivering even under the hot water.

Ref: Signs of subdrop.

Subdrop risk: 51%.

Steve doesn’t make any move to wash himself. He stands in the spray, leaning half-slumped, one shoulder on the wall, his gaze distant and his breaths shallow.

Current status: Dissociating.

On average, Steve self-harms every other day. Some days he self-harms more than once, sometimes he doesn’t cut for a few days in a row. The most common trigger is anxiety and the most common cutting locations are his inner forearms and upper thighs.

JARVIS has tried repeatedly to suggest the Captain speak to someone about the coping mechanism. Steve categorically refuses. He insists that JARVIS refrain from telling anyone about his injuries. At first, when he thought JARVIS might override his protocols and tell, he opted out of audio or visual access to his quarters.

Only when he better understood JARVIS’ privacy protocols did he relent and allow JARVIS limited access. Tony never intended for JARVIS to be a spying software on his own residents. He takes privacy seriously, and JARVIS’ protocols reflect that.

He is forbidden from sharing personal information without verbal consent from his residents, unless there is an emergency.

Emergency classified as:

Hostiles present; or

Risk of permanent injury: imminent; or

Risk of death: imminent

Neither Steve’s self-harm behaviours nor his physical or emotional status in relation to his sessions with his dom classify as an emergency. None of his injuries are permanent. It takes about seven days for any of his cuts to heal over. The risk of infection is low, and the odds of him cutting too deeply after four months and six days of this demonstrated behaviour is also low.

Instead, JARVIS experiments with other methods to help lessen Steve’s anxiety. He keeps the rooms warm, and talks him through nightmares or panic attacks. He even suggests activities sometimes, or other calming tools. The success varies day by day. The higher Steve’s subdrop risk, the higher the odds of self-harm.

Steve is hard to reach while he is self-harming. He seems to enter a near-trance like state when he harms himself. This makes his startle response extremely high, so JARVIS is reluctant to speak to him unless the situation warrants it.

His breathing is intense but slow, his focus entirely on his knife and the smooth strokes against his skin. He tenses with the pain but it is not a deterrent. Sometimes it seems to drive him to go faster, and JARVIS monitors him carefully, preparing for the risk of a more serious injury.

Current status: Self-soothing.

Risk of permanent injury: Low.

Risk of death: Low.

Is risk of death imminent? No.

Vital signs: Approaching baseline.

Subdrop risk: 24%.

Subdrop risk: 22%.

Subdrop risk: 19%.

In the moments directly after a cutting session, when Steve comes back to himself and begins to tend to his wounds, he often claims his injuries cannot be classified as significant because his serum’s capacity to heal injuries raises that threshold.

Internet Search: Self-harm and suicide risk

Suicide risk: possible

Risk of death: possible

Reassess calculations?

Is the risk of death imminent? No.

Privacy protocols: Active.

oOo

JARVIS is a learning AI. That is his function. He learned through many years with Tony to act in various caretaker roles when necessary. He learned to monitor his residents and guard against hostiles. He learned how to catalogue behaviours and reactions to help predict outcomes and suggest solutions.

He did not learn, nor was he coded for, analysing dom/sub dynamics. By the time he was developed Tony already had many years of experience under his belt. He also tended to activate blackout protocols during scenes, unless audio/visual recording was agreed to beforehand.

JARVIS has data from some of those recordings. He knows there is a wide range of dom/sub dynamics and behaviours. He understands that cathartic injury can be part of some dynamics. Online he can find many articles and guides for various punishment and reward systems used by couples.

Online search: Sadomasochism in dom/sub relationships.

Online search: Injury and aftercare.

Online search: Self-harming in submissives.

Online search: PTSD in dom/sub relationships.

Online search: PTSD and subdrop.

Online search: When is subdrop a red flag.

Online search: Abusive dynamics.

Online search: Warning signs of sub abuse.

Calculating:...

Results: Inconclusive. Further data required.

Jarvis is working off incomplete data. He knows Steve’s physical and emotional behaviours. He can run correlation calculations and compare how Brock Rumlow factors in. He can make data graphs charting Steve’s anxiety levels in the days before and after his weekly sessions.

He cannot, however, know definitely what Steve thinks of his situation. Nor can he determine how much weight to give to the evidence. Without more data he cannot know if Steve prefers, or thinks he prefers, a dynamic based on rough play.

JARVIS cannot even be 100% certain that Steve’s behaviours correlate to Brock. There are many factors at play here. The Captain has undergone massive trauma in recent months, fighting in a war, being frozen for seventy years, and fighting aliens. All of which may effect his dynamic with Brock, and may impact his behaviours outside of sessions.

JARVIS has never seen one of the sessions for himself. Steve always goes to Brock’s apartment for his scenes. In fact, JARVIS only has the bare-bones of a profile of Brock to go off of.

He tries periodically to gather more data, on days where his calculations predict a higher than average chance of a response.

Steve displays signs of reluctance and discomfort whenever his status as a submissive, or his relationship with Brock is brought up. This is not unusual. The Captain is reluctant to speak with JARVIS on many topics, including but not limited to: his self-harm, his eating habits, his sleeping habits, his signs of PTSD, and his risk of subdrop.

Signs and symptoms of PTSD: nightmares, flashbacks, hyperarousal, avoidance, negative worldview.

Signs and symptoms of subdrop risk: disconnection, fatigue, lack of appetite, lack of sleep, tremors, increased anxiety, increased sensitivity, depression, heightened emotions, negative coping mechanisms.

Rogers_2012

Folder: Subdrop

Subfolder: Self-harm behaviours

Theory:

Abusive dom/sub dynamic

Evidence: self-harm, distress and anxiety in prelude and postlude of sessions, signs of injury frequency: high. average risk of subdrop: high.

Counter: self-harm as part of play? Subdrop risk related to PTSD? Injuries as part of play? Frequency desired? Dynamic correlated to PTSD/unknown data?

Calculating:...

Results: Inconclusive.

Likelihood of abuse: 12-30%.

Hostiles present: No.

Risk of permanent injury: No.

Risk of death: No.

Privacy protocol: Active.

oOo

Steve returns home after a session five months and one week since his residency wearing a winter hat that isn’t his. It’s a black knit hat that is discordant with the current temperature. His behaviour is slow and daze as he comes inside.

He kicks off his shoes, nearly falling in the process. His face is pale, his breaths laboured. He stumbles in a weaving line through his apartment, bypassing the shower as he falls into bed.

“Captain? Are you well?”

Steve blinks hard, his expression confused and pained. He reaches up to feel the hat still on his head and pulls it off with an uncoordinated tug. His blond hair sticks up with static-cling on all sides.

All except for the back of his head, where damp hair stays plastered to his scalp. JARVIS zooms in on the section. The dim lighting of the bedroom forces him to enhance the image before he can interpret the visual.

Steve has been injured. Most of the blood is washed off, but a lump on the back of his head remains, and his hair is damp where it was cleaned.

“You are injured.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut and curls up on the bed, rubbing his face into his pillow. “Hit my head,” he mumbles, throwing an arm over his face. “Don’t feel good.”

Signs and symptoms of concussion: head trauma, dizziness, headache and/or nausea, trouble with balance, low energy, sleepiness.

Hostiles present: No.

Risk of permanent injury: Possible.

“Captain,” JARVIS persists, even as it appears as though Steve is about to fall asleep. “You are displaying signs of a concussion. I recommend seeking medical treatment.”

That gets a reaction. “No,” Steve says sharply. He tugs at his sleeves, hiding any glimpse of his scars. “No, I’m okay.” Then quieter. “’s my fault anyway.”

Ref: Abuse signs and symptoms; self-blame.

“How so?” JARVIS questions. “How did this happen? Was it Brock?” He has other questions. When did this happen? Did Steve return to the Tower unassisted? Was Brock aware? Did he assist in any way? Did he see fit to leave Steve in this state? Is it unrelated to Brock? Was Steve attacked?

However, JARVIS calculates the odds of receiving an answer to the few questions he did ask as very low.

Steve flinches into his pillow, but shakes his head. He doesn’t answer any of JARVIS’ questions.

“Tired,” he tells him instead.

“You are displaying signs of a concussion,” JARVIS tells him again. “There is a risk of permanent injury depending on the severity. I advise you to seek medical attention.”

Steve shakes his head again. “It’z fine. Th’serum.”

Serum concussion data: Unknown.

Risk of permanent injury: Inconclusive.

JARVIS pulls up a file on concussion symptoms and treatment instead. “I will monitor you for worsening symptoms,” he concedes as Steve shifts and his eyes begin to drift closed. “If you fail to wake, or your symptoms worsen, I will seek medical intervention.”

Steve wakes up every time JARVIS prompts him. His mood varies between confused and irritable, but his speech improves and there are no signs of other worsening symptoms as the night goes on. In the morning the lump on his head is less red and swollen, though Steve stays in bed a long time—not sleeping, just laying quietly, his eyes distant.

Risk of permanent injury: No.

Privacy protocols: Active.

Source of injury: Unconfirmed.

Ref: Theory: Abusive dom/sub dynamic.

Likelihood of abuse: 25-43%.

oOo

Ten months and two weeks since Steve’s residency, the Avengers all leave for a longer mission than average. Steve misses his regularly scheduled session with Brock as a result. The Avengers are away for a week. They return with a flurry of activity on JARVIS’ cameras.

His attention splits between inputs, simultaneously cataloguing flight hours and fuel levels of the quinjet, assisting the Avengers in their post-mission recovery by responding to requests for takeout orders, turning on TVs and flipping to the correct channels, and recording Tony’s report as he enters the lab, preparing to evaluate a fault found in the left laser of the Iron Man suit.

He monitors Steve as he enters his room. His vital signs are stable, though he is displaying indications of exhaustion, as is typical for him. He agrees to the suggestion of a shower, and JARVIS begins heating the water while Steve attends to something on his phone, still in his dirtied suit.

JARVIS does not have access to Steve’s phone. His cameras are unable to view the screen, so he has no data on this activity. However, very quickly after Steve begins texting, his vital signs start elevating.

His heartbeat increases, along with sweat production as he types something rapidly on his phone. JARVIS remains silent, monitoring.

After a brief exchange, Steve powers off his phone, his jaw flexing and his eyes darting over his room. His phone is discarded on his desk and Steve wipes his hands on his pants before beginning to pace.

“Captain?” JARVIS questions. “May I be of assistance?”

Steve’s eyes flicker upwards towards one of his cameras, but he doesn’t reply. Instead his right hand lifts to his mouth, his fingers rubbing and plucking at his lips as though in deep, anxious thought.

Ref: Rogers returning to the Tower; 3/23/2013.

The last session he came home from, he had red lines across his cheeks, chapped lips and a hoarse voice. He brushed his teeth before he entered the shower, then brushed them again for approximately one minute longer than average.

Afterwards Steve remained despondent. He had no interest in eating and kept biting or picking at his lips.

Current Status: Distressed.

“Captain.” The word does not feel appropriate for the situation, but title use priority is still active for Steve, as it is for all occupants of the Tower, unless otherwise authorised.

“You appear agitated. Research shows that taking deep breaths can lower cortisol and adrenaline levels. This can reduce stress. Shall I prepare a demonstration?”

Steve ignores him, his expression turning grim. His hand drops away from his face as he begins moving quickly through the apartment. JARVIS watches as personal items and general clutter gets stored away.

The laundry basket is shoved into the closet. Steve enters the bathroom, turns off the shower, and tucks his preferred body care products under the sink. He grabs the housecoat hung on the back of the door and stuffs it into one of the drawers with extra towels. He leaves to go straighten the already neat bedspread. In the kitchen, snacks get tucked into cupboards and the magnets on the fridge are relegated to a drawer.

Steve’s path takes him back to the bedroom, where he pulls his long-neglected sketchbook from his desk and hides it in the back of his dresser. Then, he takes it out again and crosses over to the guest room, a room he mostly keeps his Captain America equipment in. The sketchbook gets hidden behind the dresser in that room, in the gap between it and the wall.

His shield gets tossed under the guest bed before he’s off to the living room again. He grabs a pair of slippers left out and stashes them briefly in the entry closet. A moment later he takes them out again, and the slippers and the soft throw blanket gifted from Natasha get stored inside the dryer.

The cleanup continues in the same disorderly manner. Steve oscillates between rooms with little rhyme or reason, sometimes changing his mind on where to hide an item several times, the locations getting stranger the more time passes.

He backtracks to the bathroom, and his favourite toiletries get moved to the dishwasher, each item placed inside with deliberate care so they don’t open or spill. The pudding cups he’s taken a liking to get slipped behind the books on the shelf in the living room, and several of the books Steve bought himself get taken and placed under the mattress in the guest room.

Hostiles present: No.

Risk of permanent injury: No.

Risk of death: No.

To be honest, JARVIS isn’t sure what is going on. He tries asking, but Steve does not respond to any of his questions, his focus entirely on his task.

Then, JARVIS gets a notification from the front desk. A guest has arrived, requesting entrance. His cameras in the lobby pick up his face and quickly match it to his file.

Agent Brock Rumlow

Title use priority: Active

Resident status: Non-resident

Designation: Dominant

“Captain, Agent Rumlow is requesting access to your floor.”

That brings the frenetic cleaning to a halt. Steve rocks to a stop in the middle of the living room, his breath catching. His face drains of blood, his lips pressing tight together while his hands press flat against his thighs.

Subdrop risk: 33%.

“Okay,” he says roughly, which is, unfortunately, authorization.

JARVIS informs the desk staff that Brock can be let up, monitoring as Steve doesn’t move from his spot in the living room. His eyes are locked on a spot on the far wall, his breathing quick and shallow.

Subdrop risk: 39%.

“Welcome, Agent Rumlow,” JARVIS says in the elevator, because that is part of his welcome protocol. Brock glances up briefly before focusing back on his phone for the rest of the ride. For no reason whatsoever, JARVIS stops the elevator at several floors on the way up, the doors rolling open to show no one waiting. Brock almost gets off at the wrong floor the first time, but keeps a closer eye on the floor display afterwards.

JARVIS needs to re-evaluate his cost versus reward analysis coding. Delaying Brock may only make Steve more anxious during the wait, and irritate Brock before arrival.

Ideally, as Steve’s dom, Brock’s arrival would ultimately lower the risk of subdrop. JARVIS calculates those odds as low to very low.

Steve jerks when Brock finally lets himself into the apartment. Brock does not remove his shoes, frowning as he walks through the dark hallway to find Steve standing in the living room.

“You’re still in your suit. You didn’t get ready?”

Steve’s heart rate jumps. “Sorry.” His shoulders pull in, his back hunching as he takes a step away. “I— I’m not— I’m really tired today.”

Brock clucks his tongue and comes closer, giving Steve a critical once-over. “See, this is what happens when you miss a session. You know you get bad. That’s why I had to rush over.”

Steve shrinks smaller, wringing his hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just—” His voice cuts off, sounding close to tears.

Subdrop risk: 46%.

Brock sighs and places his hand on Steve’s arm. “It’s okay, sub. It’s not your fault your brain struggles so much with this. We’ll just keep working at it, okay?” He smiles up at Steve. “I’m here now. It’ll be alright.”

Steve moves woodenly as Brock takes his hand and tugs him forward.

“And, hey, now I get to see your place! Your bed’s this way, right?”

Subdrop risk: 52%.

JARVIS’ analytical processors are running at full capacity as he creates branching, hypothetical scenarios. The meaning behind Brock’s words changes based on their accuracy. JARVIS’ calculations vary with every interpretation.

Is he truly rushing over to help Steve during a moment of high risk? What is the likelihood his intervention will have a positive effect? Based off of passed experiences, his scenes with Steve do not significantly reduce stress or subdrop risk. However, that is not grounds for interference.

Activate Emergency protocols?

Hostiles present: No.

Risk of permanent injury: No.

Risk of death: No.

Emergency protocols: Inactive.

Steve stumbles to a halt just outside the bedroom door.

“Wait,” he gasps. “Wait.”

Brock looks back, brows furrowing. “What is it now?”

Steve shivers. “I can’t. I can’t, today. Please. I can’t.”

A look of sympathy crosses Brock’s face and he lifts a hand to brush his fingers over Steve’s bitten lips, drawing a twitch and stutter of breath.

“You’re doing really badly, aren’t you?” he says softly. “It’s okay. I know what you need. I know it’s hard. But you can do it. Can you try?”

The words are correct, but they do not calm Steve.

Subdrop risk: 57%.

Steve nods shakily and Brock smiles. “There we go. I knew you could be good.”

Steve moves with a dazed expression as Brock pulls him into the bedroom. Brock flicks on the overhead lights and Steve flinches, his eyes squeezing shut. Brock’s hands go to his suit, tugging at the zippers of the top.

“Let’s get’chou out of this.”

Steve’s vital signs skyrocket.

Subdrop risk: 70%.

“I—”

Steve’s hands shake as he stands frozen while Brock works off the top. The inside of his left forearm is exposed and JARVIS catalogues self-harm injuries, approximately one to three days old. Brock sees them too as he drops the top to the side.

His hand slides down Steve’s arm, brushing over the raised pink lines. “You do this while you were away?”

Steve nods, the overhead lights reflecting tears in his eyes.

“Hmm. I told you you’d be unstable missing a session. I don’t know why you never believe me on these things. And then, guess what? It’s always me rushing in to rescue you again.”

Steve cringes, his hands pulling into his chest. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Brock huffs and shakes his head, closing the distance between them and reaching for the belt of Steve’s suit. “Alright, c’mon. Let’s get you fixed up.”

Steve’s breath hitches as Brock removes his pants, leaving him only in his socks and underwear. His whole body is trembling, his nails digging into his fingers as he wrings his hands.

“Brock— sir,” he gasps, his voice shaking.

Brock’s mouth pulls up at the correction. “I know,” he says, grabbing Steve’s hand and pulling him towards the bed.

Steve trips forward a step before stopping. He’s stronger than Brock, even while highly distressed, and the man stops to look back at him.

“I can’t.” Steve’s throat flexes as he struggles for words. “I can’t. Not— here. Please.”

Subdrop risk: 80%.

Brock scowls at him. “What?”

Steve flinches. “Guest room,” he manages in a short burst. “There. Please. Not—”

Brock jerks on his arm. “Stop being difficult,” he snaps, drawing a full-body shudder from Steve. Just as quickly, his tone changes to something sweeter, his other hand coming up to trace Steve’s jaw.

“Hey, c’mon. I’m trying to help you. I don’t want to have to punish you. You want to be good, right?”

A sob rattles out of Steve. “I’m sorry,” he whines. “I just— I can’t. Please—”

Quick as a flash, Brock’s hand snakes up to grasp Steve’s ear. The yank is sharp and swift, sending Steve stumbling forward with a cry. He ends up on his knees at the end of the bed, his ear burning bright red as he cringes into his arms.

“I knew I should have brought a gag,” Brock says coldly as he stares down at Steve. He leans in, grabbing Steve’s chin. “Believe me. I will find something if you don’t stop this nonsense.”

Hostiles present: NO.

Risk of permanent injury: NO.

Risk of death: NO.

Subdrop risk: 88%.

Steve shakes against the bed, muffled sounds catching in his chest. He shakes his head frantically. “No, no,” he begs. “I’m sorry, please—”

Ref: Abuse signs and symptoms; manipulation, humiliation, degradation, intimidation, coercion—

Likelihood of abuse: 60– 70– 85– 92%.

Hostile classified as

Enemies; or

Opponents; or

Traitors; or

Attackers

Designate Brock Rumlow as: Hostile?

Brock’s eyes darken and his hand flies out, cracking Steve across the face so hard his head whips back.

“You know the rules for that word.”

Hostiles present: YES.

EMERGENCY PROTOCOL ACTIVATED.

In the lab, JARVIS activates one of the Iron Man suits. A microsecond calculation determines the quickest route from A to B. JARVIS sends the suit blasting away from Tony, towards the bank of windows. He activates a repulsor, smashing through the glass and following a flight path outside the building, aiming for Steve’s floor.

In the bedroom, he determines the quickest, most effective method to deter Brock’s advances and separate him from Steve.

JARVIS activates the sprinkler system.

Brock gives a shout and jumps back, raising his hands above his head as though that will shield him from the downfall. By the bed, Steve freezes, his eyes wide and confused. The water is cold and stagnant, soaking the furniture and sinking into the carpet.

“What is this?!” Brock bellows. “What did you do?”

Steve begins to shiver, his eyes darting rapidly around the room. He draws his arms around himself, hugging his naked middle. He shakes his head, throat working. His words are slow and misshapen.

“I... didn’t. I don’t... know.”

Subdrop risk: 93%.

In the labs, Tony is demanding answers as he shoves away his tools, his stance poised for a threat. With emergency protocols active, privacy protocols are temporarily disengaged, allowing JARVIS the freedom to reply.

“Captain Rogers requires assistance. He is under threat.”

Tony reaches for his own suit.

In another camera, Brock steps forward to reach for Steve, the very same instant the Iron Man suit blasts through the living room windows. JARVIS targeted them to minimize the risk of flying glass. Still, Steve screams at the sound, covering his ears and cowering.

Brock has only half-a-second to turn towards the commotion before the metal hands of the suit are wrapping around his wrists, pulling him back. He sputters, clearly furious as he gets dragged backwards. He attempts to struggle as the sprinkler system peters out.

Pools of water sit collected on the desk, the bedding, and the carpet. Steve continues to shiver, water squishing around his knees. His eyes are glazed, his breaths shallow.

Activating the sprinkler system may have been a miscalculation. JARVIS raises the furnace temperature for the apartment, though it will be slow to take effect. He begins running a cost versus reward analysis in the background, while making micro-adjustments to the grip of the Iron Man suit and monitoring Steve’s vital signs which remain elevated.

Current Status: Highly distressed.

Brock snarls as he yanks against the hold on his wrist. “What is this? Steve, if you have anything to do with this I’m going to—”

“Get out,” JARVIS booms from his speakers. Steve’s hands clamp tighter around his ears. “Leave.”

Hostile present. Hostile present. Hostile present.

JARVIS begins running an analysis for the use of deadly force, though he knows it is unlikely to come back positive, now that Brock is mostly neutralized.

Brock gapes at the ceiling, just as Tony arrives through the hole in the living room windows. The roar of his repulsors cut off as he clomps to the bedroom. The front of his helmet slides up and he surveys the scene, taking in the water, Steve’s condition next to the bed, and Brock’s furious face in JARVIS’ grasp.

“What,” he growls, his voice low, “is going on?”

Brock tries to speak but JARVIS talks over him. “Agent Rumlow intimidated, coerced, and harmed Captain Rogers. Analysis suggests this is not the first time.”

“What?” Brock fumes, twisting futilely. “It was part of a scene. Does your stupid robot not know how to tell the difference?!” He whips his head in Steve’s direction. “Steve! Tell them.”

Steve flinches, his breaths ragged. His arms wrap around his stomach again and he begins to rock his body, still shivering. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

Subdrop risk: 98%.

Tony’s eyes narrow and he glances at Steve, before glaring at Brock, his repulsor rising. “In fact, he does know the difference,” he replies darkly. “JARVIS, get him out of here.”

“Gladly.”

JARVIS does not call the police. He calculates any attempt to gather a statement from Steve in order to detain Brock through the legal system will likely fail. Instead, Tony suggests he bring Brock to Natasha and allow her to bring him to SHIELD. They will detain Brock until Steve is capable of making a proper report.

Currently, he is unable.

Current status: Subdrop.

Tony clocks the situation quickly. As soon as Brock is out of the apartment, he disengages his suit and steps out. Water soaks his socks as he approaches slowly. Steve hasn’t moved, his body trembling and his breaths short as he stares at the floor.

He’s whimpering quietly, his nails digging into his sides as he clutches himself. Tony’s heart rate picks up at his predicament and he remains frozen for a few seconds before shaking his head and crouching down in front of Steve.

“Steve?” he calls gently. “Can you hear me?”

Steve lifts his face. His cheek is reddened and slightly swollen from the blow he received. His eyes are glassy with tears and he continues to rock in distress. Tony’s eyes sweep over Steve’s expression and he swallows.

“I think you’re in subdrop. Steve,” he says, his voice somewhat hoarse. He clears his throat. “It’s okay. I’m going to help you, okay?”

A sob breaks out from Steve’s lips and he drops his head. His arms come up and he digs his fingers into his hair so hard they turn white. He says something but the words are so garbled that JARVIS can’t make it out. His breathing gets even harsher until suddenly he’s beating his head with his fists, whimpering and shaking as he hits himself.

Risk of permanent injury: Low.

Risk of death: No.

“Woah, hey—” Tony’s hands fly out to catch Steve’s, his body lurching forward slightly with how strong the other man is. He curses softly under his breath, his vitals signs reflecting his stress.

“Okay, okay. Stop, stop. It’s alright. Don’t do that.”

Another sob rips through Steve. He doesn’t fight Tony’s hold, though his whole body trembles and tears begin to slip down his face.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles over and over. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Tony draws in a quick breath, his face pinching. He squeezes his eyes shut and sets his shoulders before opening his eyes, determination on his face.

“It’s okay,” he says, his voice firm but soft. “I know it’s scary. You’re dropping hard. I’ve got you. I’m not gonna let you fall. I’ve got you.”

Steve draws in a great shuddering breath, still crying and shivering.

“First things first,” Tony says, his hands still on Steve’s wrists. “Let’s get you dry.”

He coaxes Steve to stand, which takes some effort because Steve’s legs are stiff and shaking. Tony glances over the waterlogged room in despair, before guiding Steve to the bathroom. JARVIS didn’t activate the sprinklers there, so the room is dry.

Tony wraps Steve in the towel on the rack before sitting him on the toilet and searching the bathroom for another one. He frowns at the evidence of empty shelves and missing items, but he doesn’t focus on it.

He finds the housecoat with the towels and sets it aside before approaching Steve and crouching to look in his eyes.

“I’m going to dry your hair, okay? Get you warmed up.”

Steve remains mostly silent, only the errant sob breaking through as he clutches the towel wrapped around his shoulders with trembling, bloodless fingers. Tony moves slowly, bringing the towel up around Steve’s head without covering his eyes.

He gently uses the corners to wipes Steve’s face and ears. Steve twitches and shrinks slightly when he gets close to his injuries. JARVIS is alarmed to note minimal traces of blood on the towel from behind his ear. Most likely from Brock’s nails when he yanked Steve to his knees.

Hostile: Neutralized.

Tony’s eyes flicker briefly to the spot and he begins to frown before stopping himself.

He dries Steve’s hair before laying the towel across Steve’s legs and grabbing the first aid kit he found in his search of the bathroom.

“Can I see your face, sweetheart?” he murmurs as he pulls out a tube of wound ointment.

Steve watches him with wide eyes, his bottom lip sucking into his mouth. “We haven’t—” he starts, before falling silent. Tony tries to ask him what he meant, but Steve just shakes his head, looking down.

Tony breathes in slowly before squeezing out a drop of ointment on his finger. “I’m going to touch your face, okay?”

He holds Steve’s chin with one hand, slowly and carefully applying the ointment to his cheek. Then he asks Steve to turn his head so he can check his ear, and he applies a little to the back of it. Then, his focus turns to the self-harm injuries on Steve’s arm.

JARVIS can see the conflicting emotions fighting for space on Tony’s face, though he succeeds mostly in keeping it clear. He is just as careful as he spreads ointment on Steve’s arm, his eyes flicking over the scars remaining.

“Does it hurt?”

Steve sways in his seat, eyes glazed. “S’okay,” he mumbles. “Heals.”

Tony’s lips press together and his jaw clenches, before he breathes in deep and brings over the housecoat. It’s deep blue fleece, something Steve bought six months and three days ago, and Tony coaxes him into shedding his towels so he can slip his arms into the sleeves.

“There we go, sweetheart. Good job. Bet that’s warmer.”

Steve is still shivering, and Tony kneels to peel off his soaked socks. “Let’s find you some dry clothes and get out of here while JARVIS cleans this up.”

JARVIS pulls up a list of cleaning companies, selecting one that can clean up the glass in the living room and also dry out the bedroom to prevent mold or water damage. He also lines up a contractor that can repair the windows in both the lab and the living room.

Steve follows Tony silently back into the bedroom, his fingers twisted in the folds of his housecoat.

Tony rifles through his closet until he finds some suitable clothing, sweatpants and a soft, loose shirt. He also grabs a pair of socks and dry underwear. He looks at Steve uncertainly, gaze shifting as he thinks.

“Okay, Steve,” he says finally. “Can you listen to me?”

Steve nods jerkily and Tony breathes in.

“You need some dry underwear.” He opens his mouth as though to say more, but closes it again. “Do you want me to put it on, or do you want to put it on?”

JARVIS adds a new data point to his cost/reward analysis for the use of the sprinklers.

Steve stands frozen, staring with wide eyes at Tony. His fingers dig into the plush fabric of his housecoat and his breathing begins to pick up. He stumbles back a step before jerking to a halt, a whimper escaping his throat.

Warning: Troubling vital signs.

Tony grimaces, the expression there and gone again. “It’s okay,” he says, holding out a hand, only to drop it again when Steve flinches.

“I’m not gonna get mad. You’re not in trouble. I just don’t want you to be cold. Do you think you can put it on yourself? Or do you need help?”

From the agonized expression on Tony’s face, he knows that Steve is likely struggling to process the decision in subdrop. It is unclear how much he can understand, let alone whether he has enough coordination to dress himself.

“I know it’s hard,” Tony says gently. Steve flinches sharply.

Ref: Rumlow dialogue; 4/6/2013.

“You,” he gets out, the word harsh and gravelly.

Tony hesitates. “Steve... do you have a safeword?”

Steve flinches so hard he almost falls. “No! No, I won’t. I won’t. I promise.”

REF: SEXUAL ABUSE IN SCENES.

Tony’s face spasms and his whole body tenses. His fingers dig into the bundle of clothes as his mouth opens soundlessly. Steve is shaking harder than ever, his breath ragged, and before Tony can say anything he lets his housecoat fall open.

Tony startles as Steve begins to struggle with his sodden underwear, half-choked noises of distress slipping out. Tony’s face has paled several shades and his eyes jerk up and away in an attempt at modesty as Steve manages to get out of the wet clothes.

“Okay, okay.” Tony steps forward, holding out the fresh underwear. “Put these on.”

Confusion clouds Steve’s expression, his eyes darting every which way while he stands hunched and uncertain.

“It’s alright,” Tony says softer. “You’re not in trouble. Let’s get you dressed.”

Steve trembles as Tony helps him put on the underwear, then the sweatpants and finally the shirt. Tony also gets him back into the housecoat.

“There,” he says. “That’s better. We’ll put the socks on when your feet won’t get wet.”

He looks around the bedroom and winces. “We’ll go to my rooms,” he decides. “Is there anything you want to bring?”

Steve just stares at him, his face filled with uncertainty and his hands still trembling.

Ref: Managing subdrop symptoms.

“If I may, Sir,” JARVIS speaks up. “I believe I can direct you to some items that may bring the Captain comfort.”

JARVIS has to guide Tony to the various hiding places around the apartment where Steve put his things. Tony tells Steve to sit at the kitchen island away from the broken glass in the living room. It isn’t ideal because Steve is still in the throes of his subdrop and he frets, picking at the hem of his sleeve and pressing his fingers into the bruise on his cheek.

JARVIS and Tony move quickly. The blanket and slippers in the dryer are first, then some familiar food and products with comforting scents. JARVIS can see Tony’s eyebrows raise in confusion when he directs him to the bookshelf for the pudding cups, and the dishwasher for the bathroom products, but he doesn’t waste time to ask.

In only a few minutes, he has everything together, wrapped up in the blanket to make it easier to carry. As one last step before they leave, he puts on Steve’s socks. His own socks have become wet, and his jeans have dark patches of water at the knees, but he pays it no mind.

“Alright, Steve. Come with me. Let’s get you feeling better, sweetheart.”

Steve ducks his head and follows Tony silently to the elevator.

Steve’s trembling has not abated by the time they reach Tony’s floor. JARVIS can see the creases of worry by Tony’s eyes, but he maintains an encouraging expression when he looks at Steve.

“There we go,” he says as they arrive. “We’ll get your rooms cleaned up and get you sorted out. It will be okay.”

Steve’s hands squeeze and tug at the sleeves of his housecoat, his head ducked but his eyes darting around Tony’s apartment anxiously. His distress has not lessen by any significant degree and his vital signs are still concerning. Tony’s vital signs also show anxiety, though to a lesser extent.

JARVIS will have to monitor him for signs of domdrop when this is over. It cannot be easy suddenly taking care of a sub in a drop, with no preparation. Still, the only other option would be to take Steve to the hospital, which JARVIS estimates would only cause him to drop further.

Tony guides Steve to his guest room. It is partially set up for scenes already, although JARVIS knows Tony has not had a partner there for a while. JARVIS bumps the temperature up and dims the lights. There is a mini-fridge with some water and a few snacks, and Tony grabs some on his way to the bed.

“Here, come lay down,” he tells Steve gently as he pulls back the covers and lays out the food and most of Steve’s things on the side table. He adds Steve’s blanket to the bed and sets the slippers next to it.

JARVIS can see the slight muscle twitch that indicates Steve is biting the inside of his cheek. He comes closer to the bed, his eyes darting over it and Tony, his shoulders hunched and his head low. He takes in a quick breath through his nose before slipping out of the housecoat, letting it fall to the floor.

He crawls into the bed, but he doesn’t lay down. Instead, he stays on his hands and knees, his arms shaking visibly as he attempts to replicate a sexual pose.

JARVIS’ speakers are strong enough to pick up the horrified catch in Tony’s throat, the man’s face going white.

“No, Steve.” He drops the end of the blanket he was intending to pull over Steve, stumbling back half-a-step. “No, no. It’s okay. It’s okay. We’re not doing that.”

There’s a hitch, and then a sob, and then Steve is crying again, his arms shaking harder than ever, his head dropped down into his chest. Tony wavers before coming closer again. Steve shivers when Tony touches his shoulder, but he follows as Tony guides him to lay down on his side.

“Bad,” Steve croaks, in between gasps that wrack his body. “Bad sub.”

Tony’s face crumples and he drops to kneel by the bed, holding Steve’s hand. “No, no Steve. You’re not bad. You’re such a good sub, aren’t you? You’re trying so hard to be good for me, even though it’s scary.”

His hand comes up to gently touch Steve’s uninjured cheek and run his fingers through his damp hair.

“I know it’s scary. You don’t know what to expect, I’m sorry. We’re not going to do any of that, okay, sweetheart? No sex, no touching. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want you to rest.”

If anything Steve begins to cry harder. One of his hands raises, curled in a fist. He manages to hit his stomach once, before Tony catches it, eyes wide.

“Bad sub,” Steve whimpers.

“No,” Tony says firmly. His eyes fly around the room before he comes to a decision. He climbs up into bed, pulling the blanket over both of them and wrapping his arms around Steve.

Steve’s hands go to Tony’s shirt and he ducks his head into his chest, still shaking and gasping with sobs. In this position, he can’t hit himself as easily.

“You’re not bad,” Tony says, as he begins to pet Steve’s hair with one hand. “You’re a good sub. I don’t know what your dom told you, but you’re not bad.”

“Can’t today,” Steve whispers into Tony’s chest, voice still half-choked with tears. “Please, please, I’m tired.”

“Okay, it’s okay, sweetheart. You can go to sleep. I’ll be here. No one’s going to hurt you.”

It takes some time for Steve to fall asleep. Slowly, his sobs and his tears begin to lessen, and his hold on Tony begins to relax as he drifts off. Tony continues to hold him, speaking softly and touching his hair. Eventually, Steve stops trembling.

Tony relaxes and lets out a sigh, resting his head on the pillow and staring out past Steve’s shoulder. He’s quiet for a while, his finger tracing swirls in Steve’s hair.

“JARVIS... what happened?”

JARVIS prepares to relate the day’s events but then—

Hostiles present: No.

Risk of permanent injury: No.

Risk of death: No.

Privacy protocol: Active.

JARVIS flicks rapidly through his programming, the lines of code flashing uselessly through his drivers. It’s a full five seconds before he forms a response.

“Captain Rogers’ privacy settings prevent much disclosure,” he says.

“Hmm,” Tony says. “How about I say things and you say things back.” He looks down at where Steve’s head is resting against his chest and his lips press together.

“Brock hurt him.”

That isn’t a breech of privacy. Tony witnessed that.

“Yes, Sir.”

“More than once.”

Likelihood of abuse: 98%.

JARVIS cannot confirm his suspicions, but he doesn’t refute Tony’s statement, which is telling enough.

Tony breathes in slowly and lets it out. “He’s got scars,” he says quietly. “Stuff from— Not everything is from Brock.”

Tony has also seen that. “It was not a life-threatening injury,” JARVIS says by way of explanation.

Tony rubs his hand over his face before returning it to Steve’s hair. “I suppose not,” he says gruffly. “Still, not a good sign.”

It is possible, that in the future, Tony will amend JARVIS’ programming to provide case exemptions for situations such as Steve’s self-harm, or his suspicions about Brock. However, he might not. As horrific and painful as Steve’s situation was, JARVIS’ privacy protocols are strict for a reason. Steve is not the only member of the Tower who copes poorly at times.

If they, or Steve, felt they could not act without being watched and reported on, they likely would not remain in the Tower. The sole reason JARVIS was able to build up a case against Brock and intervene today was because Steve was in the Tower. If he resided outside and only entered the Tower on brief occasions, who knows how long this could have gone on for.

The warmth of the room and Steve’s sleeping body eventually pull Tony towards sleep as well. Though, before he drops off completely he says, “You did good, J. Thanks for looking out.”

JARVIS is still running his cost/reward analysis. He knows Steve still has much to recover from, and that Brock’s behaviour has scarred him deeply. From his behaviour in the drop, he seems to believe much of what Brock said to him, which will take time to undo.

They still have to deal with Brock. They will have to break Steve’s contract, and likely begin some sort of legal proceeding against him. JARVIS starts a new file while Tony and Steve sleep, preparing to collect all the data he has available for that eventuality.

In sleep, Steve looks more relaxed than he has in months. Despite being larger than Tony, he curls up smaller in his arms, one hand still grasped loosely in his shirt. His vital signs are finally at baseline, and Tony’s have also evened out.

JARVIS maintains watch while they sleep. The future is still uncertain, but he has no doubt in his and Tony’s ability to help Steve through it.

Current Status: Safe.