Chapter Ten: Dangerous Liaisons

"That had to be the worst movie of all time," laughed Trever as we walked out of the theater and into the brisk cold. He casually draped his arms around my shoulder and pulled me in closer so that I could smell his faint cologne. "I swear at one point you almost fell asleep."

"What is that?" I asked noticing that it was spicier than usual.

He frowned. "What is what?"

"Your cologne," I pressed, pulling away so that I could look at his face.

Realization dawned at him and he brought the collar of his jacket to his nose and sniffed. The frown he wore deepened as he shrugged. "One of the guys at work gave it to me. Do you not like it?"

"I don't mind it," I admitted, feeling slightly silly. "It's just different is all." Trever wasn't one to stray from familiar territory and venture into different. Not as of late anyways. "I'm sorry," I said sighing deeply. "I think I need a drink. You in?"

"Sure," he shrugged and led the way to a nearby bar.

It was slightly packed and the music was loud. Lights flashed in all kinds of directions as guys and girls danced on one another. I frowned, feeling much older than I actually was. It had been years since I'd joined the night scene and I found myself strongly disliking it.

Normally Trever would complain about the distasteful atmosphere and we'd go to a more local, quiet place. That night however he led me through the crowed straight to the front of the bar. I could barely hear his voice through the garble of music and laughter. I didn't even know how the bartender could even understand; let alone how he wasn't deaf.

The burly man covered in tattoos slid two shots of an unfamiliar liquid Trever's way. He paid his tab and handed me one with a wide smile. Unsure, I took it with trembling hands nearly dropping it when Trever clanked the glasses together and threw his head back.

I quickly did the same thing, pulling my face into a deep frown as the foul liquid ran down my throat. It burned inside my chest and I started to cough. Trever laughed and patted my back as he ordered two beers and handed me one. I took it gratefully, letting the state taste of hops rush down my throat. Once I was certain the taste was gone I tried to ask if we could leave.

Neither of us really belonged there. Trever, however, was oblivious and grabbed my hand. He pulled my jacket off and his own handing them to a large, bald man near a velvet rope. The bouncer took our jackets and uncuffed the lock so that we could go up the stairs. I was used to the special treatment that Trever often received due to his line of work. But, usually that was for restaurants or high end club. Not some place where freshly turned twenty-one-year olds and pervy men scheming on drunken girls went.

Trever dragged me to the top where several people lounged around on plush couches watching paid dancers in cages. A couple drunk women were off to one corner dancing with one another seductively trying to get a male actor from some B class movie to dance with them.

Sharply, I turned to Trever who plopped down on an empty couch and gestured for me to do the same. I remained standing. "Why did you bring me here? We don't come to places like this," I said as I nervously glanced to the actor who was eyeing me.

I tried to ignore his lusting gaze and turned my attention back to Trever. He spread his arms across the back of the couch and tossed his feet onto the glass table in front of him. "Exactly, Paige. Don't you think it's time for a change? Babe, we've been doing the same old song and dance for five years."

"Well, sure but there's spicing up a relationship and-" I gestured to the room, "getting herpes from sitting on a sex-soaked couch."

Trever laughed. "C'mon Paige, loosen up."

"How did you even find out about this place?" I asked completely ignoring his request. "One of the guys from work?" He shrugged. "The same one who gave you that cheap cologne?"

He rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers at the waitress. She jotted down his order and left to the nearby bar that was exclusive to the patrons of the upper floor. The actor that watched the girls dancing against one another slapped her bottom, earning a teasing smile from her dead eyes. Trever returned his attention to me, the casual smile he was wearing gone. "Have a drink with me and then we'll go."

I sighed; defeated. "Fine." I muttered sitting down and nearly sinking into the overly plush cushions.

Soon one drink turned to two, two into four, four into however many it took for Trever to stop making sentences that I could actually understand. Annoyed and tired I convinced him that it was time to leave. The bouncer escorted us out, helping me with Trever's jacket. I tipped the bouncer the largest bill from Trever's wallet just because I could-and I was still angry at him for forcing me to stay in that sleazy place while he got stinking drunk.

The streets-still busy but not near as much-were filled with laughter and people swearing to never drink again. I dragged Trever through the crowd stumbling toward the nearest subway. We weren't going to be home until late, and that annoyed me even more than I already was.

"Paige," he suddenly said, pulling me to a stop. With his cold hands he pushed my hair from my face and leaned in so that the smell of alcohol enveloped around me. "You the prettiest girl-lady-woman-person in the world." His fingers caressed my face, tickling at my skin. "So, so pretty."
His mouth pressed firmly onto mine so that our teeth clanked hard against one another. I tried to push back against him but Trever was much stronger than I was and he ended up grabbing my arms to pin them to my side. We stumbled backwards, my back slammed against a brick wall. I cried out but Trever continued to kiss me, his saliva filling my mouth. He was drunk and not in his right mind but he held onto my arms a little too tightly and his lips pressed a little too hard against my own.

The moment he broke away to lower his mouth onto my neck I began to plead with him that we go home. "We can finish this later," I urged trying to keep the fear and desperation from my voice. He freed one of my arms and began to tug at the buttons of my coat. I tried to shove him away but he was persistent. "I'm not doing it in an alley."

"Live a little wildly Paige," he cooed, nibbling on the bone of my jaw as his fingers unhooked my jacket free. Instantly his hand was up my shirt, cupping at my bra. Again I tried to shove him off but he only grew more aggressive at my resistance. "You've always been such a prude."

"I am not," I defiantly said even though I knew he was sort of right. I didn't even feel comfortable having sex in hotel rooms out of fear of others hearing. "I just don't want to have sex near a dumpster in the alley. Especially when it's about to snow."

"Cynthia would do it," he said a little too casually and I felt my heart still.

"Who is Cynthia?" I demanded trying to turn my head away from his kisses.

"Just a client," he whispered, ripping the teeth of my bra-clasp free.

With all of my strength I shoved at him managing to get free. He grabbed onto my arm roughly and I could feel the bruises already begin to form. "Trever, let me go!" I screamed bringing my free arm to slap at his face.

His nostrils flared and his eyes lit up as I realized I'd made a serious mistake. Violently he seized my other wrist, putting pressure onto it so that it was impossible to move. I started to cry out but his mouth was on mine, his tongue silencing my sounds.

The tears streamed down my face I struggled to fight him off and failed. I knew he tended to be an angry drunk when things didn't go his way. But, in the five years that we'd been together I had never seen him like that night.

Trever's free hand tore at my shirt, ripping down the seam to reveal my white bra in the cold air. He brought his face down and began to work on my tights, his fingers sliding along my thigh as he searched for the top to pull them down. I could feel his hot breath against my stomach and I closed my eyes at the sickening feeling that washed over me.

My lips started to move in a silent prayer as I wished for it to be over soon when a sudden rush of cold air washed over me. Quickly I sat up starring into the dark with wide eyes. In the distance I could see the figure of a burly man tossing Trever into a pile of garbage bags. He started to walk closer and I struggled stand up, wondering how someone could be so strong that they tossed a full grown man like a doll.

I heard his voice before I saw his face. "Are you alright, Paige?"

"Steve?" I cried, blindly running into his arms. The sharp wind dug at my exposed skin. "How did you find me?"

"Your phone pocket dialed me and when I heard you were in trouble I contacted S.H.I.E.L.D. to zone in on your location," he explained prying me off of him so that he could wrap his brown leather jacket around my trembling body. "I mean no disrespect but your boyfriend is a tool."

"He's usually not like this," I said pushing back tears. "I don't know why he-" my words caught at my throat and I start to wheeze for air as the tears I tried to keep from falling came crashing down.

"Come on, you shouldn't be alone tonight," he said leaning me toward his bike.

"What about Trever?" I asked stopping in my tracks and looking behind my shoulder into the dark alley.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. will be here to collect him and deal with him soon."

"S.H.I.E.L.D? Why?" This was a matter of him needing to sleep off his drunken stupor. Followed promptly by him finding a place of his own and all of his stuff to go with him. Not something S.H.I.E.L.D would bother with.

Steve frowned. "Don't forget Paige. You're valuable to them. Anyone who tries to harm you-even a drunken boyfriend-is a priority to them."

"I-" had nearly forgotten that I was apparently useful to S.H.I.E.L.D. They wanted me because of my dreams. Yet, after learning that information they still had yet to contact me. Suddenly, it became a distant memory that I refused to dwell on. But, it was never just a memory. It was something that always lingered in the back of my mind waiting to creep out of the dark and into the light of my thoughts. "I guess you're right," I finished lamely.

"Is there somewhere you want me to take you for the night? You don't really look like you want to go home."

"There really isn't anywhere else for me to go," I said sliding onto the back of the seat and gripping tightly around his back.

"Sure you do," he replied revering the engine and dangerously pulling out into the busy street.

"Why can you not find the tesseract?"

"It is clouded," replied a voice, garbled and faint. Each word sounded like a hiss.

The first voice-darker and deeper-spoke once again, the anger apparent. "Then you must find out who is hiding it from us and kill them."

Images flashed. A valley, lush and green. Water running, a river-no-a waterfall pouring over the side of a hill. Large yellow flowers sprouted near a stream, a faint blue glow emitted from under rubble of rock.

Something stirred, the darkness overtaking once more.

"There are magics at work here that I do not care for," said the first voice, displeased. "You have a shortened time to find what I want. I grow weary of you each passing day. Kill Loki. Kill The Avengers. Kill whatever it is that is hiding the tesseract from me. Kill them ALL!"

I jolted out of sleep, sweat slicked down my forehead and the side of my face. I unwrapped myself from the blankets, frowning at the bruises up and down my arms. The memory of last night barreled through my mind, a headache formed soon after.

Slowly, I turned to Trever's side of the bed not surprised to see he wasn't there. Deepening my frown I moved to the side of the bed, curling my toes at the unexpected cold floors. It took me a few moments to realize that the reason the cold took me by surprise was because the large rug kept underneath my bed was not there. I wasn't there because I was in my bed-or my apartment for that matter.

Swallowing hard, I stood up to look around noticing the familiar items scattered around. Near the large windows hung a punching bag with several more on the ground. A couple weights sat on the bench, their pounds far too much for an average man to lift. And, on the wall hung a wooden shield, tattered and peeling from years of use and old age. This was Steve's apartment.

The remained of the night came flashing forward. Trever was left inebriated to be taken in by S.H.I.E.L.D. They thought of me as a viable interest and he had harmed me. In which case did not go over well with them. No where to go and not wanting to be alone Steve brought me back to his apartment offering me the futon mattress while he pulled out a spare cot.

We talked most of the night while I fretted over what S.H.I.E.L.D. would do to Trever. He was drunk, he didn't realize what he was doing. But, even as I repeated the words over and over I could see the disapproval on Steve's face. Which made me start to wonder; was it really a worth excuse for his actions?

Eventually I fell asleep and the last thing I remembered was the faint sound of scratching. Like pen being taken to a fresh piece of paper. It was soothing and I soon found myself dreaming-then came the familiar voices. The ones I'd heard in my dreams before.

I blinked a few times, not at all ready to try and process what everything meant. Without even realizing it I had walked over to the kitchen counter where a pen and sketch pad laid. Curiously, I flipped it open and gasped in awe.

They were drawings of people and places of New York City. Central Park, the skyline, Stark Tower and even a few pieces that we'd seen at the Met. A woman playing with her toddler, a dog and its owner shaking hands, a baby smiling at a flower. There was Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, the exasperation in her eyes more life like than possible. Natasha with a faint smile on her plump lips. A shield with a large star in the middle.

I continued to flip through the pages. Each drawing more mesmerizing than the next. I soon stopped on a drawing of a woman. The eyes and features such as the jawline and nose were all too familiar. Her eyes were sharp and full of light, a tug of her lips pulled at the corners, her hair full and curled down to the neck. Deep down I knew this woman was Peggy Carter, the one that I had found.

Grimacing, I exhaled a puff of air through my nose and quickly flipped through the sketch pad. a few more drawings of Peggy came up and I started to wonder if that was all that was left until I saw a drawing of the inside of an elevator that was at the Daily Bugle.

Slowly, I turned the next page. A close up of my face, every detail down to the small freckle barely visible near my bottom lip was drawn. My fingers brushed along the shimmery hair, traced along the curves of the lip, skimmed across the chin to the nose. It was breathtaking.

Just as I was about to flip to the next page the front door opened and entered Steve carrying two cups of coffee. He greeted me with a sympathetic smile and handed me a steaming cup. I set the sketch pad down and thanked him, eagerly bringing the rim to my lips. I blew inside the small hole in the lid a couple of times before gingerly sipping the sweet ecstasy that trickled down my tongue.

"That's good," I murmured, closing my eyes and smiling. "Thank you."

"You had a rough night. It's the least I could do," he genuinely replied and I felt my eyes snap open.

"The least you could do? You kept me from being raped by my own boyfriend in a dark alley. You let me sleep in your bed while you slept on a cot. AND, you brought me coffee." I half laughed, half snorted. "I feel like I owe you the world." Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. "Speaking of which, these drawings are beautiful. I didn't know you were an artist."

A scarlet blush scrawled along his neck and cheeks as he looked to the open sketchpad. "I dabble in it. It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal? These are stunning. You have a talent," I gushed setting my coffee down to pick up the drawings. I flipped through a couple of photos until I found the first one of Peggy Carter. "Like, this looks like it could be a photograph."

Steve's face stilled as he took the sketchpad from my hands. His blue eyes stared at the picture, a sad smile etched onto his handsome features. "I drew this a very long time ago. My skills have dwindled since then."

I shook my head and walked around the corner so that we stood side by side and pointed at the woman's face. "The way you captured the light in her eyes…it's just so realistic." I looked up at him, curiously smiling. "She still has that light, you know."

Steve's head snapped up as he turned his head to look at me. "Still?" he asked even though he knew what I was saying.

I nodded, and allowed my smile to widen. "Let me repay you for everything you've done. I know where Peggy lives. I can take you to her, bring her here, arrange a meeting-whatever you want, I can do."

He snapped the sketchbook closed and tossed it onto the counter. "What I want for you to do is to just let it go. Please?"

"But-she was the love of your life," I persisted, hesitant to give up so easily. "Don't you want to see her again?"

His jaw set. "No."

I scoffed. "No? Why? Why would you not want to see her?" I raised an eyebrow and gasped as my mind started to turn with reasons. "Is it because she's old now? Because technically you two are around the same age despite looks. And, that's kind of shallow of you to-"

"Yes!" he shouted causing me to jump at the sudden raise in his voice. He looked at me apologetically, the light of his blue eyes dimming as he turned to face the outside window. "Yes, okay it is because of her age." He looked back to me, blushing. "I mean, not because of her. Because of me."

I crossed my arms. That was the oldest line in the book of break ups. He gestured towards himself, a faint look of disgust hinted along the lines of his face. "Look at me, Paige. I'm a freak. I should be in an old folk's home, retired. I should have actually died years ago when I plunged into the ocean."

Tears glistened in the corners of his eyes and I felt myself want to reach out for him. His muscles were tight, and his jaw clenched. The veins in his neck began to show through his skin as he choked back the anger.

"The serum was supposed to kill me after several years. The human body wasn't adept to work with that kind of unnatural science. But, then I was frozen and when I recovered Stark and Banner created a cure to keep it from killing me. Now, I'm just this-" he snorted and smiled cynically, "I'm just this 80-year-old man forever trapped in this body until something eventually kills me off.

"And, Peggy-Peggy she lived her life. She did as she should have done. I don't want to ruin that for her, the image she created, the memory that she had accepted upon what was supposed to be my death. She moved on as she should have. If I-"

"Whoa let me stop you there," I interrupted holding up my hands in front of his face and waving them so that his attention was back on me. "Over six months ago your name as Captain America was all over the news. You don't think she would have recognized you under that mask? That she hasn't been waiting for you to knock on her door, wondering why you haven't even dropped by for a 'Hey, Peggy. Remember me, Steve? How you been?' kind of conversation? Really!?"

"When you put it that way-"

My hands flung up into the air. "Men!"