There are two more one shots for this series. Both are done and will be posted soon.

In His Voice, There is Safety By Jaspers Dark Angel

A boy of about 16 cowers in the corner of a dimly lit room, the one person in his life that should love him, unconditionally, looms over him, a scotch in one hand, a belt in the other.

Howard stark was is bastard, no one knows that better then his son. Raising to his feet, Anthony decides he's had enough. He doesn't need his father, he has his mother's inheritance, he could easily live off of what her death provided him with. He could emancipate and wash his hands of Howard Stark. He so badly wanted to. The only thing that kept him around was his godfather. He wouldn't leave because it would mean losing the only person Tony loves.

He had loved his mother, but she had died a few years ago, from stomach cancer. It had taken her fast, but she had suffered horribly before the end. Tony could hear her screams at night when the house was still. The pain of her death had driven Howard to drink. By day, Howard was a genius, a billionaire,creator and owner of the largest weapons manufacturer in the world. By night, he was a drunk, angry and abusive. Tony, the only person in the house other than ghosts, bared the brunt of Howard's anger.

The sound of a belt cracking rang through the air as the thick leather strap hit Tony across his cheek. His head flew to the side, smashing into the wall he stood against. Unable to keep his balance through the dizziness the hit had caused, Tony sank to the floor, a strangled cry escaping his lips.

Tony's vision is blurry and weak in the dim light of his father's study. He was having a hard time recalling why he was in the room so often off limits, but a shout from outside the door stops him from worrying. The door shakes as the person on the other side grabs the knob. Tony half heartedly smiles, he knows that voice, he knows that safety comes with that voice. A sharp kick to his abdomen from the man above him sends him sprawling along the floor as the door bursts off its hinges.

"Howard, walk away. I won't let you hurt him anymore!"

Tony doesn't hear anymore of the exchange, the sweet silence of darkness overtakes him and the image before him goes dead.

Its a while before Tony comes to and when he does, he isn't on the floor of his father's study, he's in a soft plush bed, wrapped in strong arms and a deep warmth floods him. He knows where he is, he knows who has him and he doesn't want to get up. He doesn't want to move. He thinks he's died and gone to heaven because that is the only way he would find himself pressed up against the strong chest that is attached to those arms. The strong smell of cedar and mint fills Tony's senses and he tries to breath it in, the air makes his lungs burn, but he tries to keep his movements to a minimum, wanting to delay the moment when the safety of those arms leaves. Steve knows Tony is awake and moves to sit up, leaving cold spots where Steve's embrace has vanished. Tony tries not to let the loss of contact show on his face and he hopes that if it does, Steve mistakes it for pain because oh my god does Tony hurt. He hurts so bad, and he can't remember the last time he's hurt like this, the last time he let Howard get one over on him. He'd been so careful to keep away from him. He had learned his father's habits and schedule to be able to avoid this type of situation. He had made sure that he was never home when Howard was, but today he hadn't had a choice. Steve, had been out on a date or something, Tony didn't know, he hadn't bothered to ask. He had figured he would be able to fly under Howard's drunk radar, but he regrets not asking Steve to leave a window open for him.

Tony shifts in his bed and gasps as a sharp stabbing pain hits him in the lungs.

"Tony!" Steve grabs his hand and Tony squeezes as hard as he can, "Don't try to move, that last hit broke a few ribs." Tony looks down at his naked bandaged torso and groans. His father, typically so careful not to leave marks, has finally gone too far.

"I'm sorry Tony, I'm really sorry." Steve says, long fingers ghosting over the welt on his cheek. Tony hisses at the contact but doesn't move away from Steve touch.

"S'not your fault Steve," Tony mumbles. The blame lay only on one person. The man with whom he shared have his genetics, the man whom he had once, many years ago yearned to have love from.

"I should have been there to stop it." Steve says, planting his face into his hands, his shoulders sag under the weight of his misplaced guilt. "I should have put a stop to it along time ago." He says, his voice muffled under his hands. Tony has never blamed Steve for not being around more, the life of Captain America was busy. He was an American hero and a celebrity. Tony didn't see him much when he was younger, too many wars or diplomatic issues required his attention. But as Tony got older and the need for Captain America slowed down, Tony was able to get to know the man that he had idolized as a young boy.

"My father is a monster Steve, I know he's your friend but he's..." Tony trails off because he doesn't want to show his feelings on the subject of his father. The fact is, Tony hates his father, like really hates his father. He wishes many times throughout the day, that Howard had been the one to die and not his mother.

Steve sighs and places a hand on Tony's shoulder. "Get some rest Tony. We can talk more in the morning."

Steve leaves Tony alone in his room, Tony doesn't know exactly what Steve wants to talk about but he doesn't dwell on it either. He was too busy missing the mans company.

Tony Stark is a lonely boy, 16 and in college, working on his masters degree, the only reason he was still living at home was because Howard had made it mandatory. It sucks and Tony fucking hates it. But he found he didn't fit in with anyone in his classes either, they were all so much older and stupider than him. He had no friends with the exception of Steve and Steve was considerably older. Steve looked like he was 26, but he wasn't. His super soldier serum had frozen his aging process, Steve Rogers would never look older than 26 years old. It was odd to know that Tony would grow old, get wrinkles and gray hair, but the man he had come to love, yes love, would forever have beautiful golden blond hair, perfectly tan skin, a soft calm wrinkle free face and wash board abs. Steve was gorgeous, you'd have to be fucking blind not to think so, his eyes sparkle like the night sky, his smile could light up a room, and he was a genuinely nice person. He never treated people like they were beneth him, because he never believed anyone was. He was sincere and happy. He was everything, Tony wanted.

It had taken Tony a few years to realize that the feelings he felt for his godfather were not entirely platonic. He had a very hard time hiding it too, a 16 year old didn't always have control of his body, and he had had to step away from his godfather's embrace quicker sometimes in the hopes that his feelings weren't known. He wasn't totally sure his affections had managed to go unnoticed but Steve never gave any indication, Tony chose to believe that he had thus far gotten away with his secret.

He wasn't exactly sure how he would explain his feelings to Steve and had long ago decided to keep them to himself. It wasn't exactly something you dropped in someones lap, especially not your godfather's. They may not have been blood related but it still wasn't something that was readily accepted by society. So Tony had decided to suffer in silence and pray that one day, someone would come along that he would love more than the Captain.

"You are a disgrace to the Stark name! I'm ashamed to call you my son." Howard shouts as he stumbles from his office.

Down the hall Tony waits, he knows what's coming. He always knows what's coming. He tries so hard, so hard, not to panic, not to show fear, but he hears Howard's footsteps and his heart beats a little faster.

Where is Steve? Tony can help but wonder. Why has he been left alone with Howard, again?

The sting of the laceration on his cheek is still fresh and he can't move fast enough to get away from Howard, because of the broken ribs. But Tony tries, he wills his legs to move, to force him further down the hall, away from the enraged shouts of the drunk man coming his way. But he's sluggish and his foot catches on something. In his haste he is unable to catch himself and he goes flying, crying out as his freshly broken ribs make contact with the hardwood surface of the floor. The bandages on his ribs provide no traction, allowing him to slide uncontrollably. Unable to stop himself Tony hits the wall, when he opens his eyes against the new pains that are blossoming all around his body, Tony comes face to face with Howard's cold stare. Hollow brown eyes look down on him in disgust. Tony knows what's coming and readies himself, unable to do anything else Tony fights. He flails his arms about in the hopes that Howard's blows will be blocks at least a few times.

"Tony! Tony!" He's being shaken and Howard is talking to him, but it isn't Howard's voice. "Come on baby boy, follow my voice, its ok." The voice says again. He knows that voice, thats the voice that belongs to hope and love. "No one is going to hurt you, I promise."

Tony blinks, the room is dark save for a small sliver of moonlight shining through an open window curtain. "Steve?" he says, his voice is slow and raspy, confusion laced.

"Yeah, baby boy, it's me," Steve says, breathlessly, moving only slightly, so that Tony can focus on his face. "I got you baby boy, you're safe." he says, panting slightly, Tony put up a hell of a fight. Staring at the shining blue eyes in front of him, Tony is overcome with just how beautiful Steve is. Under normal circumstances Tony would have been able to stop himself, but still heavily under the influence of sleep and possibly pain medication, Tony's inhibitions are lesioned. Instead of realizing why what he wants to do is wrong on so many levels, he gives in. Pulls Steve close, as close as he can force the big man, and captures his lips with his own. The lips are unresponsive but soft, Tony expected as much. But they don't pull away as fast as they should have, they hesitate and linger before Steve pulls away, eyes wide with shock.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry Steve," Tony says, slightly horrified as he realizes what he's just done. the truth is, Tony's only half sorry, about the kiss. He has dreamt of what kissing Steve would be like for years. He's wanted to feel those plump pink lips and know what they tasted like and he was definitely not sorry that he had finally found out. He was sorry that he had put Steve in that position, knowing that the man wouldn't feel the same way for his 16 year old godson. Tony, did feel bad about that, even if he had hoped that Steve could see past the age difference and see the similarities.

Tony may have only been 16 but he was far more mature than even his college classmates.

Steve shakes his head, "Its ok Tony, I'm not mad." Tony can't help but breathe a sigh of relief at hearing Steve's words.

Tony is exhausted and decides he can no longer keep his eyes open. its all been too much, the emotional roller coaster he's been on because of his dad and the man sitting on his bed in front of him, and the physical damage, his body is needing to recover from. The weight of everything comes crashing down on him and he falls back against his pillow, pulling Steve down with him.

"Stay with me?" Tony asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He doesn't hear an answer but feels the bed shift. A set of strong arms wrap around him and he falls, soundlessly into a warm cocoon of safety.

I really hope you all liked it, leave me some love :)