[ he had stayed to see that the injured receive treatment, that his help is no longer needed, that winter is safe from any anger pointed his direction. he had stayed there to see his duty done but his heart was not truly in it, it was with her, hurt as she was. peggy is not the sort who cannot take care of herself but at the same time, winter had hurt her, the atroma had played it so Winter will hurt her and Steve has anger bubbling beneath his veins until he finally comes to her side and it fades away, leaving nothing but concern at its place.
she is hurting and steve, steve should have been there to make certain she won't be, steve should had been there before Winter had hurt her, hurt anyone, got hurt himself. he goes to sit by her side, hand reaching to take hers, fingers brushing hair from her forehead ]
[ -- she wishes she could sleep, but it always eludes her in the last second. she bolts awake (with pain) and remembers all over again the debacle back on the iskaulit. she'd been too certain of herself -- too prepared to take down a force she simply could not equal. what made her think she could?
hubris. mismatched experience. and a kind of stiff, cold love. even now, she tries to sit up -- only to be met with an ache to deep to imagine, and she settles back against her built-up pillows. jesus.
she doesn't open her eyes again until he arrives. and she wishes she could drum up a smile, explain how it's all alright, but -- ]
[ and so is she, Steve will thank God at least a dozen times more for this. He doesn't entertain the terrible, choking thought of what would have happened had Winter hurt her even more or worse. This is bad enough as it is, seeing her like this. ]
I'll get him back.
[ this has been his mission even before coming here, hasn't it? it hadn't worked at home, he had traces and he had hints but the puzzle was never complete. This, however, might be a little less complicated, the world is smaller even if space is vast. he rubs circles against her palm. ]
Can I get you something? Has a medic seen to you lately?
The only medic I need now is time. [ she resists the urge to swat at him, not least of all because it's more ache than it's worth. peggy doesn't much like to crack her good, unswollen eye open and see the worry writ large upon his face. it makes her feel guilty. ]
Time, and maybe a spot of tea. Will my nursemaid allow it?
[ huff. that's you, captain rogers. star spangled nursemaid. ]
[ he knows better than to argue with her. she needn't get upset as it is and let's be frank, even captain america knows better than to try and argue with peggy carter. for now, he accepts and lets it be. he'll have to ask the medics himself if they have given her enough painkillers.
he does manage a huff of laughter. it seems like the sass doesn't go away in the face of serious injury. ]
I confess -- [ she speaks in a smaller volume than usual, and in a tone that edges on a rasp. ] Any sort of hot water with a dash of flavour will do, at this point.
[ she takes him back - forward - times have gotten so badly mixed up here, to the last time he had sat by her sick bed, in years and years for her and not too long ago for him, always so dramatic she had scolded him and even now, it makes him smile. she was probably right all along. it makes his heart clench for a moment before he looks at her again ]
no sugar?
[ he's already rising up. he should have brought water to begin with. ]
Take your time, [ my darling. almost said, but caught upon further reflection. her smile is rueful, and a little pained. ] Don't rush on my account. Heaven knows, I'm not going anywhere.
[ he has to smile a little because in steve rogers' book that does count as potentially smooth. maybe he did learn one thing about women. he'll go to the kitchen and comes back with tea for her and coffee for him. he'll knock again after a few minutes. even having been in her room before, he will not re-enter without knocking. ]
I don't know who else it would be. [ she teases, because as smooth as this exit might have been -- it's an endearingly clumsy re-entrance. peggy doesn't leap for her tea. she's a little too tired and a little too sore. she'll let it cool, first. ] My usual guard-dog at moments like these has made himself rather AWOL.
[ a note of concern: ] Has Max come back yet?
[ last she'd known, he'd disappeared on one of the shuttles. gone. ]
[ not only in age but in spirit, in the way he sometimes wishes they could be, he and her, before the war and everything else had matured them to what they are. sometimes he thinks he would have liked to see her, the girl she was before, with her concerns weren't as plenty. ]
He'll come back. Has to make sure I'm behaving myself.
[ her dismay at his continued disappearance is evident -- one might argue, in effect, that he might be the dearest friend she's made since arriving in this fleet. apart from friends from home, at least.
but that same dismay is knocked quickly off her face. she frowns for a whole other reason. ] Behaving yourself? [ her thoughts flee elsewhere. ] You didn't touch his shuttle, did you?
I truly believe he's a bit protective of everyone. [ ... ] Once you scratch the surface rust and dirt away, he's rather soft-hearted. Not that he believes it of himself.
[ it's a mutual soft spot, won through a long protracted acquaintanceship filled with muted mumbles and passive aggressive kindness. the odd mended cut and a great many companionable silences. he's like an old stray she feels compelled to continue helping, as though she might somehow find absolution through good works. ]
If he doesn't come back on his own, the Atroma will do it for us. He tried to run before; I thought he might have overcame the urge. I suppose his stint as a happier version of himself undid all that hard work.
[ he never told her that, perhaps he shouldn't be telling her now, either. She's hurt and too many things linger in her mind already. ]
When I woke up, they had me in a room - they made it look like something straight outta the 40s but it wasn't too convincing. I walked out and it was a whole new world. It was seconds for me and seventy years for them. It was a few good weeks before I went out again.
[ and only because he had to and mostly because of her connection to the story. ]
[ she shakes her head. for the life of her, she cannot imagine steve rogers running away. perhaps it happened and perhaps it didn't -- but for peggy, it felt unlikely. or else as though he retold the circumstances with too much modesty in mind. and yet she had to wonder how she herself might cope with such strangeness. waking up to a lie, and diving head-first into...what? a century that likely no longer held any place for her.
she watches him with sympathy. ] And yet you didn't run for long, did you?
Maybe. Hopefully. [ ... ] He's not like you or I. He doesn't brook much in the way of heroics -- although he can be uncommonly selfless in his own right, I think that only makes him feel more and more vulnerable.
[ hm. ] And his younger self spoke at such length about his family.
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she is hurting and steve, steve should have been there to make certain she won't be, steve should had been there before Winter had hurt her, hurt anyone, got hurt himself. he goes to sit by her side, hand reaching to take hers, fingers brushing hair from her forehead ]
hi.
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hubris. mismatched experience. and a kind of stiff, cold love. even now, she tries to sit up -- only to be met with an ache to deep to imagine, and she settles back against her built-up pillows. jesus.
she doesn't open her eyes again until he arrives. and she wishes she could drum up a smile, explain how it's all alright, but -- ]
Where is he? [ she asks with dry, pale lips. ]
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[ and so is she, Steve will thank God at least a dozen times more for this. He doesn't entertain the terrible, choking thought of what would have happened had Winter hurt her even more or worse. This is bad enough as it is, seeing her like this. ]
I'll get him back.
[ this has been his mission even before coming here, hasn't it? it hadn't worked at home, he had traces and he had hints but the puzzle was never complete. This, however, might be a little less complicated, the world is smaller even if space is vast. he rubs circles against her palm. ]
Can I get you something? Has a medic seen to you lately?
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Time, and maybe a spot of tea. Will my nursemaid allow it?
[ huff. that's you, captain rogers. star spangled nursemaid. ]
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he does manage a huff of laughter. it seems like the sass doesn't go away in the face of serious injury. ]
I think I can manage making you a cup of tea.
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no sugar?
[ he's already rising up. he should have brought water to begin with. ]
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[ har, har. okay -- so maybe the painkillers are helping her humour at least. ]
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that you are.
[ he lifts the hand he is holding long enough to press a kiss onto her palm ]
I'll be right back.
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[ he has to smile a little because in steve rogers' book that does count as potentially smooth. maybe he did learn one thing about women. he'll go to the kitchen and comes back with tea for her and coffee for him. he'll knock again after a few minutes. even having been in her room before, he will not re-enter without knocking. ]
's just me.
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[ a note of concern: ] Has Max come back yet?
[ last she'd known, he'd disappeared on one of the shuttles. gone. ]
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[ not only in age but in spirit, in the way he sometimes wishes they could be, he and her, before the war and everything else had matured them to what they are. sometimes he thinks he would have liked to see her, the girl she was before, with her concerns weren't as plenty. ]
He'll come back. Has to make sure I'm behaving myself.
[ LOOK THEY HAD A TALK ]
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but that same dismay is knocked quickly off her face. she frowns for a whole other reason. ] Behaving yourself? [ her thoughts flee elsewhere. ] You didn't touch his shuttle, did you?
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[ his lips twitch into something of an embarrassed smile. ]
I think he's very protective of you. I don't know that I've earned his approval yet.
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[ his smile turns fond ]
I could hover around the shuttle, might draw him back.
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If he doesn't come back on his own, the Atroma will do it for us. He tried to run before; I thought he might have overcame the urge. I suppose his stint as a happier version of himself undid all that hard work.
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[ until Fury brought him out to the world and into the Avengers, he was dealing rather poorly with his memories too, after all. ]
Especially like that.
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[ he never told her that, perhaps he shouldn't be telling her now, either. She's hurt and too many things linger in her mind already. ]
When I woke up, they had me in a room - they made it look like something straight outta the 40s but it wasn't too convincing. I walked out and it was a whole new world. It was seconds for me and seventy years for them. It was a few good weeks before I went out again.
[ and only because he had to and mostly because of her connection to the story. ]
Maybe that was also running away.
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she watches him with sympathy. ] And yet you didn't run for long, did you?
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[ it was a different war and a different enemy but the calling remained the same. ]
He'll come back too.
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[ hm. ] And his younger self spoke at such length about his family.
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[ a sigh as he shakes his head ]
You know, ratings must have dropped pretty bad for them to have to do all of this. Max, Winter.
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