Poisoned Blood

Chapter 1: Another Business Trip

      "Mom, do you have to go again?" James asked once last time, hoping for a different answer than the ones he'd gotten the four times he'd asked before. "You know good and well that I can't miss another meeting. Now," his mom said kissing his forehead, "I love you and I'll see you in three days." James sighed and gave up. "I love you too, Mom." he breathed as hugged her tightly. You wouldn't expect a sixteen year old to not want his mom to leave. But... then again, James isn't an average sixteen year old. His mother leaving meant that he would have to er stay home alone with his father.
      "JAMES!" his father roared as he got home. James jumped out his bed and quickly raced downstairs not wanting to keep his father waiting, for he knew the consequences. But sadly, he wasn't fast enough. He saw his father's hand rise and he braced for impact. And then again and again.

TIGGER WARNING

      As James heard the door slam as his father left to go drink, he slowly pulled himself to the kitchen the get some ice for his stomach. He carefully pulled open the freezer door, hoping that he didn't injure himself more. He searched for ice, but was unlucky and couldn't find, so he settled for frozen corn. He had pretty good knowledge in the health science field. Slowly he climbed upstairs with his frozen corn, hoping to be able to lay down and rest. As he got to the top of the stairs he keep hearing his father's voice in head. Worthless. Waste of space. Faggot. Weakling. Pathetic. Fat. He fell in his bed, as his father's words chorused through his head. As hard as he tried he couldn't get the voices to go mute. If someone, who was supposed to love him, said they were true, is that what everyone else thinks of him. Did they all think that? Steve? His mom? Natalia? Sam? Tony? Bruce? All the people he calls his friends? Almost without realizing it he had grabbed ahold is switchblade he kept tucked under his pillow. His mom had gotten it for him. He flicked it open, he'd gotten pretty good at that. He turned it over in his hand a couple times before the his father's voice consumed his thoughts. Worthless. One cut on his left wrist. Waste of space. Two cuts. Faggot. Two more cuts. Weakling. Another cut. Pathetic. He switches wrists and puts on two on his right wrist. Fat. Three cuts placed on his wrist.
      HIs blood was a thin, and dark red. In his world your blood darkens with each sin. And self harm, is considered a sin. And he was a sinner.
      It was a Tuesday so he prepared for school tomorrow. The bruise forming on his abdomen would be easily hid with a shirt and jacket. That was the only significant bruise, that Steve and the others might notice. His jacket covered his wrists so there was no need to worry about that. Though at the moment he doubted that any of them would care. After his episodes he usually questioned whether Steve loved him. Whether Nat, Tony, or Sam cared for him. The next morning he almost always knew they did. He was pulled from his thoughts as he phone began ringing, hoping it wasn't his mom he picked it up and looked at the collar id. Steve. Leave it to him to know exactly when to call. He pressed the answer button and held the phone to his ear. "Hey James." Steve chirped. "Hi Steve." he replied drained. Concerned Steve asked, "Are you okay?" Not wanting Steve concerned with his well being, he had enough to worry about, he said, "Yeah, yeah, of course just tir-" James voice had cracked causing Steve to become aware of the problem. "Don't pull none of that gosh-diddly-darn stuff with me, James, I'm coming over now." And with that Steve hung up.
      Quickly he threw on a hoodie to hide his marks, and ran down stairs to meet Steve. They only lived about 1 block away from each other, so he knew Steve would be at his house soon. As he got to his front door, he received the, "I'm here." text from Steve. And with that James was greeted by Steve bursting through the door. "Now are you going to tell me what's wrong, or do I have to hold you till I coax it out you?" he stated. "Can't you just hold me." he murmured quietly. "Yes. Yes, of course." Steve immediately agreed. He wrapped his arms around Steve noticed the tear fall and changed the way he was holding him so he could wipe away the tear. He then softly kissed James' cheek. In response James pressed his head into Steve's chest, so Steve could hold him closer. "You know I love you, right?" Steve whispered into his ear. "Yeah, most of the time." James commented, Steve laced his fingers with James'. "I love you." James stated with much confidence. "I love you all the time, no matter what." Steve murmured into James' ear.
      After almost 1 hour of Steve holding James, he realized that James was asleep. He continued to hold him and stroke his hair occasionally. James woke up about 15 minutes after Steve realized he was asleep. After he woke up and turned around to place a kiss on his boyfriend's lips. "Are you ready to talk about it?" he softly said. "I-i don't know." he stuttered trying to speak. " Well, let's start with this. Are you hurt?" James could only nod. Steve gripped James' hand tightly before he asked cautiously if he could see it. James only nodded and lifted his shirt slowly. He lifted it till Steve could see his whole abdomen. By now they were standing and Steve was gasping. James slowly pulled his shirt down again as Steve walked up to him and engulfed him in his arms."James, who did this to you?" He questioned. "My father." He muttered, the words barely audible.
    "You-your dad?" He stumbled over his words. James could only nod as he buried his head into Steve's chest. Steve had always pushed when it came to James' well being. "How many times has it happened?" Steve softly said, breaking the silence. "I'm not sure anymore, it's usually when mom's away, but it's being going on for awhile. It's pretty often now a days, you know with mom's new promotion she travels more." James reluctantly let on.
      "James you have to tell someone." Steve commented after a moment of comprehension. James sighed and said, "No, I can't tell anyone. I've tired. It just doesn't work. Besides, like my father said, they'll just call me an attention-seeking-whore like I am." "James." Steve stated, "uhm..., can i-i" Steve stumbled over his words, trying to be cautious. "No, no, no." he cried as he ran to lock himself in the bathroom. He locked himself, and pressed his body against the door. He slide down and wrapped his arms around his knees. He began to shake. All he was hearing was Steve on the other side of the door trying and failing to pick the lock. He didn't understand why Steve cared so much. James knew Steve was going ask some questions he didn't want to, nor would he be able to answer.He thought that maybe he could climb through a window and walk to someone's house that he trusted. Really the only people he trusted were, Steve, Nat, Sam, Tony, and T''Challa. Sadly, Steve was the one prying, Nat and Sam lived downtown, and Tony and T'Challa lived in the city. This prevented him from escaping the position he'd gotten himself into.
      "James. Baby. Please open the door. For me. Please." Steve had been pleading for a long time. He was occasionally knocking on the door. He finally slid down the door and wrapped his arms around his knees. "James, you don't have to come out just tell me you're okay. Please." As much as he wanted to he couldn't bring himself to speak. After a few moments of silence James said, "Stevie." Steve immediately hopped up and the pressed his ear to the door as he said, "James, oh good god you're okay. Thank you god. James, I love you. Don't do anything stupid. You are my world." James heard how sincere he was through the door. Steve heard the door unlock and his raced raced. James slowly turned the knob on the door and quietly pulled it open. They both had test stained cheeks and red, puffy eyes. Steve then engulfed James into his arms and held him. "You don't have to show me." He murmured into James ear.
      "I-I think I want to." James stumbled over his words as he tried to get his point across. He gently pulled away and started to roll up his sleeves. Steve started the pull James' arm up so he could look at it. He just eventually got on his knees so he could see it well and James didn't have to strain his arms. As he started looking at his wrist there were fresh cuts and old scars. He ran his finger along the old ones, and softly kissed them each. As he finished his stood up looked James in the eyes, and realized that he was crying. Not sobbing like he was in the bathroom. But gentle tears falling down his face. James wraps his arms around Steve's torso and buries his head into his chest. He breathes in Steve's scent. He could smell his laundry detergent and cinnamon. He always loved his scent. "You care." He muttered after moments of silence. Steve swallowed and stated, "I care. A lot."
      "Why would you do that to your beautiful skin?" Steve questioned wondering why James, his James, had done with this to himself. Steve loved James more than anything in this world. James was his world.
      "Come on James, baby. You can tell me." Steve was pleaded for answers as he held James tightly but gently as if he would shatter in his arms. James swallowed and softly said, "I hear his voice when I do it."
      "James. You do this because of your dad?" He could only nod at Steve's revolution. "James," Steve said catching James attention. He lifted up his head to where they were making eye contact and continued, "What do the voices say?" James bit his lip and swallowed before stating, "He calls me things, while he hits me." Steve put his hand on James' cheek and said, "Oh James, don't let anyone tell you, you're less than perfect."