Steve was also spending some quality time staring at the ceiling and, well, counting all of the weapons that were within reach, but that was a very Steve form of calming himself down.

"I'm up," he said as Danny got to the door.

"You coming in?" Steve asked.

Steve nodded, sitting up a bit in the bed and trying to flatten out the bedding like he hadn't been tossing for hours.

"Better," Steve said. "He was much more into drugs and internal bruising this time."

"Not really," Steve admitted. "They gave me pills for it but I haven't taken one."

Steve shifted close enough to be able to lean against Danny's shoulder. "What's keeping you up?"

"Yeah," Steve said softly. "It's been a lot."

Steve let out a long breath. "Not much. I'm still angry at myself for getting caught at all."

"But I knew he was out, so I shouldn't have just assumed someone coming into the house was a friendly," he murmured.

"Oh, his entire thing was punishing me over the past," Steve muttered.

"I still can't make it make sense," Steve said, "and I'm not sure that's because of all the drugs he gave me or because it just made no sense."

He slumped further into Danny and the pillows. "So Mom was working for the CIA and was supposed to take out Wo Fat's dad," he said. "She missed and killed his mom instead and, according to Wo Fat, was overcome with guilt about leaving this baby without a mother and adopted him for a few years until the CIA found out."

"Oh, very much," Steve agreed, nodding. "But Doris went and visited him at his federal prison, so that definitely didn't help make him more sane."

"Yeah," Steve said shortly. "He kept saying 'our mother.' Bugged the hell out of me."