Summary of Part 4: After his forced confession Steve avoids Rayne which has consequences for them both.

Warnings: Fluff, language, angst.

Characters: Steve Rogers, OFC (Rayne), Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff (small part), other OC's.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC.

Two Days Later

Steve had been well aware he'd been brooding since he'd returned from Mr Clements party. He felt like an asshole. He hadn't spoken to Rayne, he told himself he hadn't called because he was due to see her Friday, only two days later, and it would be best to have the conversation face to face. But the truth was he was afraid. Afraid of rejection, scared he'd messed everything up, fearful things would never be the same.

She hadn't called him either, no messages or sent him stupid memes, not even the ones of Bucky and Sam that made him belly laugh. Nothing. That only served to lament his fears.

He'd confined himself to his room, he didn't want his sombre mood to impact anyone else. And admittedly he was avoiding any further lectures from Sam and Bucky. They both meant well, had his best interests at heart, but he didn't need them to tell him he'd screwed up.

By Friday morning he'd given himself enough pep talks to rival a cheerleading squad and decided he was going to keep his promise. When he'd asked her to attend that fateful party with him she had readily agreed if he granted her a favour in return. She had asked him to spend Halloween night at her place, in full Captain America uniform to hand out candy to the kids. He was a man of his word, if nothing else, and he wouldn't let her down.

Only it seemed he already had, he'd arrived at her house five minutes before. It looked normal from the outside, but when his third knock went unanswered he'd peeked in the window and dread filled him like he'd been submerged in icy water.

He tried the handle of the door and it opened without resistance which fed his trepidation.

Bile rose in his throat and it took a strength he never knew he had to not drop to his knees. Her favourite lamp lay in pieces in the hallway. The glass shattered beneath its original spot on the mantel. The painting of her mother that her father had gifted was crumpled on the floor, a muddy boot print across her mother's delicate features. Droplets of blood lead a trail into the living room and following the debris he futilely called out her name.

Steve dialled Sam, "Rayne's gone," he spat not bothering to return Sam's happy greeting. "Her house has been trashed, there's blood. Trace her cell. Check traffic cams. Find her!"

"On it," Sam replied. "I'll send a team to dust for prints."

"Don't bother," Steve said, biting down his anger. "I know who this was. I'll be back in twenty."

'World's leading authority on waiting too long' - His own words echoed around his head as he rushed back toward the car frantically calling Rayne's cell. He'd done it again, repeated previous behaviour; not being honest about his feelings, wasting time, and expected a different result. Now he may never get the chance to correct his mistakes. Again.

"Pick up, damn it!"

"Hello Mr Rogers," the voice that answered wasn't Rayne's but it was the one he'd expected.

Regardless of his suspicions being confirmed his blood ran cold with fear and white-hot anger in a flash.

"Mr Clements," he growled through gritted teeth climbing behind the wheel of his car. He turned the ignition and threw the phone onto the passenger seat as the elderly man's voice connected to the car's speakers.

"You have something of mine," Tom said, matter of factly. "I have something of yours."

Steve gripped the steering wheel so hard he thought his knuckles would crack. "She has nothing to do with this, let her go!"

"On the contrary," Tom disagreed, sounding smug. "She helped you distract me the night your team stole my property."

"She didn't know anything about it," Steve lied, "I told her it was a party."

"Nice try. But you may have been able to eventually fight the truth serum, your pretty little girlfriend, not so much."

Steve remembered the pain it caused him to deny the serum, if it caused him a nosebleed he seethed at the notion of what Rayne would feel because he knew she'd try to fight it. She would have tried to hold off as long as she could. To keep the few secrets she knew.

"I swear if you hurt her…"

"Oh please, save the idle threats. Pain is for barbarians," Tom sneered. "I'm not sure she'll ever be able to lie again though."

Steve didn't respond too focused on maneuvering the Audi through the rush hour traffic. For the first time he was thankful that Tony had a preference for the fast cars.

"You know where to find me," said Tom, "return my property and I'll return yours. I'll be waiting."

The line cut off and Steve slammed his foot into the pedal.

"Are you sure about this?" Bucky asked from his seat behind Steve riding shotgun in the Quinjet.

Steve's focus remained stoic on the windscreen, but from the corner of his eye he caught Sam's curious glance before he returned his attention to piloting the jet. He was asking the same question Bucky had voiced but he wouldn't give the Winter Soldier the satisfaction of knowing they'd had the same thoughts.

"No, but it's the best plan I have right now," said Steve.

He had to believe it would work. Rayne had already been in the clutches of the man who had an insatiable taste for the occult for two days. He'd already used the same truth potion or serum - whatever it was - he'd used on Steve. God only knew what else Mr Clements had in his possession that he could test on Rayne.

The leather beneath his clenched fingers squealed in protest.

"What if he has some way to test the thing?"

The answer was obvious. If Tom had a way to test the cursed artifact, and it failed - which it most certainly would - they'd have to fight their way out. Steve was certain any tests would fail, that was all he was certain of.

He sighed heavily looking down at the small mystical box that lay between his feet. The intricately carved symbols in the aged wood meant nothing to him. Bruce's research had found that anyone who opened the box would then be able to read minds and bring fears to life. But thanks to Wanda, the same night they'd retrieved the object she'd put an end to its power. It mocked him with the power it now held: Rayne's safety.

Steve stood up as the mansion came into view on the horizon. "Cocky son of a bitch!" he growled.

Brazenly, Tom stood out in the open, in the middle of the manicured lawn. Head tipped to the sky expecting their arrival.

"I got three heat signatures just inside the main door," Sam announced.

"Put it down over there." Steve motioned toward the opposite lawn Tom stood.

"Want me to take the top off that god awful fountain?" Sam joked sneering at the gold cupid statue whose bow poured water over red stone hearts into a larger heart shaped pool.

The intercom beeped before Steve answered and he was swift in pressing the green button. "Give me good news, Nat."

"Tony has bypassed the gate security," Nat advised. "I'll be leading the Calvary in, we're ten minutes out. We're coming in dark, no sirens or lights."

Now he was sure about his plan. Exchange the decorative box for Rayne, keep Tom talking until the FBI arrived to arrest him and shut down the whole operation. This was the opportunity the bureau had been waiting for, Mr. Clements actually partaking in criminal activity. They had everything they needed to lock him away for a long time.

Exhausted. There was no other word for how Rayne felt, or if there was something more than exhausted she was that but she didn't know what the word for it was and didn't have the energy to try and figure it out.

Two days she'd been held prisoner, that was definitely the right word. She'd been abducted and held against her will.

The accommodations she'd been afforded had not been a prison cell. A grand bedroom, that was bigger than her house, with a small living area and en-suite bathroom. But still there had been a guard positioned in the room with her at all times, one on the balcony, and two outside the main doors.

There may not have been bars on the windows and she may not have been shackled but nevertheless she'd been imprisoned.

She hadn't slept; too tense and afraid to close her eyes with strange men watching over her. She certainly hadn't showered, she felt naked and exposed changing her clothes behind the small privacy screen there was no way her anxiety would have allowed her to be naked for a prolonged time without having a full on panic attack. She'd refused to eat, too worried that she'd be poisoned or drugged, she only drank water from the bathroom sink in her lavish cell.

Her muscles ached, her head pounded, her stomach was empty, and she felt the same as she did after she'd run the New York marathon two years earlier. Exhausted, completely depleted and in desperate need of a cheeseburger and four days of solid sleep.

The two guards held her roughly by her forearms and unless someone asked her, she'd never admit she was thankful for the assistance to keep her on her feet.

"Took Mr Rogers less time than I expected," Tom's voice echoed around the mansion's foyer. "You must mean more to him than you think."

Rayne rolled her eyes, they'd had this conversation. She'd answered honestly, Tom's potion had made sure of that. He already knew Rayne's view on Steve's feelings for her.

"It's nothing to do with what I mean to him." She tried to snarl but it didn't quite sound as annoyed as she hoped. She sounded drunk, on the brink of slurring her words. "He's doing his job."

"Let's get this over with, shall we?"

Her escorts needed no further instruction and they part guided, part dragged her from the house. She wasn't sure if she were hallucinating or not, but the jet parked on the lawn shimmered in the late afternoon sun like a mirage in the desert and the three men marching toward them in full uniform looked like beautiful yet lethal apparitions.

Steve stopped a few feet from them, a furious look marring his features as he regarded Tom. He looked pissed, scarily pissed and Rayne knew then she wasn't hallucinating because there was no way her imagination could ever have conjured the raging anger behind his normally soft blue eyes.

Alone Steve would have been scary enough but flanked by Sam and Bucky wearing similar expressions the three of them looked deadly.

She caught Steve's eye and the anger behind his eyes eased for a moment before growing deeper at what she could only imagine was her chaotic and weakened appearance.

Steve snarled, "What've you done to her?"

"Ah, ah," Tom remarked and Steve halted his advance toward her. "She's fine. No one laid a finger on her," he assured the super soldier but Steve looked unconvinced.

Raynce scoffed, "Except the assholes who forcibly removed me from my house, and the dickheads who strapped me down to force feed me that purple liquid stuff."

"You were offered easy or hard options," Tom countered, "You chose the hard route."

"Either option removed my free will!" She spat at the elder man. "So there was no easy route!"

Tom shrugged, the details obviously didn't phase him. "You've cost me a lot of money, Captain." Tom inclined his head toward the box in Steve's hands. "I had to reduce my price for the inconvenience to my buyer."

"I'm sure it won't bankrupt you," Steve sneered inclining his head toward the mansion behind them.

"No, I don't imagine it will," Tom agreed, proudly looking over his shoulder at the spoils of his labour. "Shall we get this, unfortunate, situation over with?"

"Let her go and you can have your damn box!"

Tom chuckled, "if my men let her go she's likely to collapse. Get your lackeys to bring the box to me and they can collect her."

Sam took the box from Steve without the need to be told and Bucky followed after him. Rayne kept her focus on Steve and saw him hold his breath as the box was handed over and Bucky scooped her up into his arms.

Once she was off her feet and in the safety of the Winter Soldier's arms she could feel the fatigue threatening to take over. Her eyes fluttered, she caught a quick flash of red, white and blue leather but Bucky didn't stop. The motion of being carried soothed her tired body like a lullaby and before they were close enough for the Quinjet to block out the sun she was asleep.

Fifteen hours, give or take, Steve had diligently been at Rayne's bed side. Grateful for the private hospital wing of the compound and the size of the room. He alternated between pacing at the foot of her bed or sitting in the uncomfortable chair beside her.

Nurses had come and gone; checking Rayne's vital signs, fluffed her pillows, offered encouraging words, but except for keeping out of their way Steve had barely acknowledged them.

The doctor's had assured him she would wake up. She had nothing physically wrong with her, a few cuts and bruises where she'd struggled. She required a good meal and sleep but it seemed her body required the latter more than anything. The medical problems weren't what worried him. His ceaseless pacing and inability to keep still was caused by the mystical ramifications.

Whether he paced or sat, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Intermittently her eyes darted beneath the lids and he hoped whatever she was dreaming about, it was good dreams.

Steve could have used a couple hours of dreamland himself but he refused to leave her side. He wanted to be the first person she saw when she woke. Though his irritability would probably make her anxious so for maybe the hundredth time he took a seat. He ignored the ache at the base of his back and how his leather pants - from his uniform he hadn't bothered to remove - stuck to his legs.

Sam rapped lightly on the open door but entered without waiting for an invitation to hand Steve the sandwich he'd made for him.

"You tried kissing her?" Sam joked standing at the foot of her bed.

Steve chuckled, setting the snack aside. "If only the fairy tales were true." He scrubbed a hand down his face and shuffled to sit straighter in the chair. "God knows if she'd even want me to. I screwed up so bad, Sam. I confessed I loved her then took it back. I was a coward and didn't call her, I got her kidnapped and god knows how long this truth thing could last!"

"That such a bad thing? Not being able to lie?" Sam asked, "at least one of you will actually be truthful about how you feel."

"She's a lawyer, she kinda needs to be able to lie." Steve shot to his feet unable to remain seated, he needed to pace. Again. "And what if I don't like what she feels, huh? What if she decides being around me is too much of a liability? What if she hates me?"

"And what if she doesn't?" Rayne's groggy voice paused his pacing and before she'd finished the question he'd returned to his chair beside her bed.

"Hey," he cooed reaching for her hand on the bed but pulled back before making the connection, unsure if it was what she wanted. "I've been worried sick about you."

"Don't lie you can't get sick," she jested smirking at him.

"Your sarcasm is intact, I see."

She laughed and shuffled to prop herself up in the bed. "No potion could pull that out of me."

He watched as she adjusted to sit upright, hesitant to step in and help her. She may not hate him, but he had been the reason for her ordeal. Perhaps he had lost his privileges of casually touching her?

"How do you feel, really?"

"Hungry, dirty and kinda scared," Rayne recited like a shopping list.

"I can help with the first one," Sam announced. "What do you want?"

"The biggest burger you can find," she replied, wetting her lips. "Fries and a banana and chocolate milkshake."

Sam nodded once. "Done."

Rayne watched Sam leave and Steve watched her. Sam's departure and the soft click of the door closing meant she had nothing else to focus on but Steve and she couldn't quite hide the reluctance at being forced to look at him.

"You're safe here," he assured her, "you don't have to be scared anymore."

She gave a mirthless smile. "I know."

"So why are…"

"Because I can't lie," she interrupted quickly. "I'm afraid you'll ask me something you don't want to hear the answer to and I don't want the truth to fuck everything up!"

"Didn't I already do that? Fuck everything up?"

"No you didn't."

They spoke over one another, words tumbling from their lips before the other had completely finished their sentence.

"I should've known he'd come after you..."

"How were you supposed to know?"

"... but I'd said all that stuff and I panicked."

"You were doing your job. You didn't do anything wrong."

"We both know it was more than doing my job."

"Do we? Because you said you didn't want anything serious."

"You said the same," Steve accused harsher than he intended.

"I know what I said and at the time I meant it but then I got to know you and…"

Steve watched her grimace, her brow furrowed in obvious pain and she put a hand to her stomach. He recognized the look, he'd seen it in his own reflection days ago. He'd felt the stabbing sensation she was currently panting her way through.

"You're trying to fight it aren't you," he stated. "The pull it has."

Her teeth ground together, "Yes."

"Stop," he commanded and this time didn't stop himself from taking her hand in his own. Steve interlaced their fingers and feeling her skin against his own he sighed heavy but content. "Finish what you were saying, 'you got to know me and'..."

"Don't ask me a direct question, please." she begged, eyes squeezed shut almost as if she couldn't see him she wouldn't hear him either.

The knowledge he held that she wouldn't be able to resist the pull of the serum that coursed through her veins was almost dangerous. He desperately and selfishly wanted to take advantage of the situation; to ask her all the questions he knew she wouldn't be able to paint over with a white lie.

But that was cowardice talking; fear of rejection. He wasn't a coward, he was brave and confrontational, and that's all he had to be now.

"Okay, so ask me," Steve encouraged, "ask me a direct question."

Her pale blue eyes slowly opened upon his but she didn't speak. She held his gaze for a long moment, maybe contemplating what she should ask or how she should phrase it. Steve didn't back down, part of him wanted to shy away, to cower from the unspoken, once it was out there there was no going back. But as she stared at him he knew he wouldn't ever want to go back. He wanted to go forward, with her, whatever that meant for them now. Consequences be damned, he'd wasted enough time…

"World's leading authority on waiting too long," he mumbled to himself.

The reminder was like a bullet and it shattered the glass wall of his doubts and fears. He didn't need her to ask him anything; he knew what he needed to say. The words fired from his mouth like an unstoppable machine gun.

"Everything I said that night was true. I held myself back from falling for you, I never meant to. I didn't want you to fall for me either. I'm too high profile, I could get you hurt... or worse." His head shook as if to dislodge the dark thoughts but he continued to ramble, words flowing faster than a freight train. "Who the hell wants to be with someone who has to cancel plans at the last minute, disappears without warning, could potentially never return from said disappearance, can't talk about his job which is like ninety per cent of his life. And I tried... I tried so damn hard not to; to stop myself from falling in love with you but it happened anyway and I'm not sure I'm sorry about it either."

He took a deep breath but it wasn't a long enough pause for her to gather her thoughts to form a response. He didn't want her to, not yet, he wasn't done.

"I'm not the best guy for you, Rayne. You deserve better than the messed up world I can give you. You should have more than sleepless nights and worry, you should have someone reliable, someone whose job doesn't threaten your safety. But when I think about you with someone else, it makes me feel sick to my stomach. And I don't know who this faceless guy is but I hate him with every fiber of my being!"

"You don't have to hate anyone," she assured him, fighting a shy smirk. "I don't want anyone else. I admit everything you said sucks big time, and it's hard, really hard sometimes. But you only listed the bad stuff. You give me so much good too; you're funny, kind, charming, sweet. You're there when I need you, whenever you can be, yeah okay, your job could get me killed but so could walking down the street. No relationship is perfect, no person is perfect." She reached out and caressed his cheek which smoothed the lines in his forehead too. "But I'll gladly take the bad stuff as long as I get the good too."

"I love you," He sighed, relieved. "I love you so much it's kinda ridiculous."

She grinned the same dorky, cheek achingly happy grin she'd given him the first night they met when he told her he'd still be there in the morning.

He felt his own endearing smile pull his lips back and despite the serious conversation he chuckled shaking his head. "And that damn dorky smile is gonna be the death of me!"

The smirk grew impossibly bigger, crimson dusted her cheeks as she threw her head back and laughed. "Well stop saying stuff to make me smile."

He chuckled along with her and waited until she fixed her eyes to his once again. "Never," he promised.

"Can we skip the small talk?" she asked, reaching over to grab a fistful of his white t-shirt.

He lifted himself from the chair at the same time she yanked him closer, his knees crashed into the metal frame of the bed and he had to brace his hands either side of her on the mattress to stop himself from falling on top of her. He wanted to make a playful remark about how she thought him baring his soul was small talk but she closed the distance and stole his words with her lips against his.

Her tongue prodded his bottom lips and just as his tongue found hers the door opened. He didn't care who the visitor was; he didn't stop. Rayne inhaled deeply through her nose and she broke the kiss so abruptly he fell forward into the space her face had just been.

"I love you Steve," She confessed, releasing his shirt. "But I love that burger so much more right now." Rayne admitted pushing Steve out of the way and stretching her arms toward Sam. "Gimme, gimme, gimme!"

Sam laughed, "and y'know that's the truth!" he quipped, handing over the white paper bag.

She smiled thankfully but snatched it from him aggressively. Both men watched as she ripped into it like an animal. She tore off a huge bite and was humming delightedly as she shoveled fries past her lips. She moaned and groaned and Steve's own stomach growled as a reminder it had been a while since he'd eaten too.

Steve perched himself on the edge of the bed and reached a hand into the bag to steal a fry but was rewarded with a hard slap on his hand.

"Avenger or not, I will..."

Bruce knocked on the open door and her threat died on her lips as did her appetite. She returned the half eaten burger to the box of the fries she'd been desperate to protect seconds ago as she took in the scientist's somber expression.

"Lay it on me Doc." She quipped, swallowing the last bite of greasy cow. "How long have I got?"

Bruce laughed as did Sam and Steve. "Glad you have a sense of humour about the whole thing."

Rayne gave the doctor a small shrug and Steve sensed that had been the last of the humour she had for the situation.

"I'm sorry, Rayne," Bruce started talking slowly and softly. "As far as I can tell, it's permanent. I've ran all the tests I can. There's a new anomaly in your DNA, and I think whatever he gave you it's ingrained itself in your DNA."

Steve's fitfulness returned and he shot to his feet. "it's in her DNA… so what? It's a part of her now?"

Bruce only nodded waiting for the news to sink in. Rayne exhaled and wrapped a comforting hand around Steve's arm before he could start pacing. He calmed himself down, now wasn't the time to lose his head and it could be worse.

"I'm a lawyer, kinda need to be able to tell a white lie here and there," she explained with a wry smile. "Do you think there could be a cure?"

"Yes." Bruce answered without hesitation.

"That's a lie," she said matter of fact. "Don't ask me how I know, but I know you're lying."

"That's part of it too," Steve explained, "Mr Clements was happy to rub that one in my face."

"You can't lie and you can tell if someone's lying to you." Bruce grimaced and offered a flash of an apologetic smile, "There's just so much we don't know. But I can do more tests. We can try and make a cure, or find a way to alter your DNA again. If it were just in your blood, your body would fight it like an infection. Or maybe if you've had a smaller dosage. Which is what I think happened to Cap. His metabolism works faster than ours, his body was able to fight it before it could make permanent changes."

Rayne huffed a humorless laugh. "Oh to be a super soldier."

"Well you kinda are, now." said Bruce with an innocent shrug.

"Yeah, you're a walking, talking lie detector," Sam grinned. "Could come in handy for S.H.I.E.L.D. You think you two could work together?" He questioned as they continued to stare at one another. "Could you cope with Cap giving the orders?"

Rayne looked up at Steve as he looked down at her, both somewhat bewildered. He'd been worried about her job, that something he'd technically been the cause of had changed her entire life, apparently permanently. He hadn't stopped worrying long enough to consider the new doors that may have opened for her.

But now Sam had proposed what perhaps should have been an obvious conclusion of events and Steve liked the sound of it. Maybe the bond they already had would work in their favor in a professional environment.

Steve's smirk spread wide. "Me giving the orders…" he shrugged, tried to sound casual but he even he heard the hopeful tone. "Could make a nice change for us."

Her death-inducing dorky smile returned. "I guess it's good to try new things once in a while, Boss."

End