This is the sequel to The Ones Left Behind. I suggest you read that first.
Sometimes, undercover work could be spectacularly boring, especially when the majority of it comprised of stake-outs and especially when you were alone.
Peggy Carter yawned and took a sip of her coffee, one hand propping her head up as she gazed out of the tiny motel room window.
Her gaze was fixed on the shipping yard opposite, her other hand drumming a pen against the chipped wood of the window sill.
An eighteen wheeler slowed down to drive through the yard's entrance gates and Peggy straightened, abandoning her coffee in favour of the binoculars that sat on the notepad beside her.
Without looking down, she jotted down the time and description of the vehicle, focussing on the men that climbed out of the cab.
As they began unloading crates, Peggy waited, ignoring the soft, tinny noise of her cell phone in favour of examining the cargo, estimating the size of the crates and calculating how many the truck could hold.
Finally, she sighed, setting the binoculars aside and noting her observations down on the notepad. She knew that a child trafficking ring was using the ship yard to move their 'produce', but this particular load was not involved.
Her phone had stopped ringing, but she picked it up anyway, flicking to the message that had been left.
VCASAPSLNF
Peggy frowned.
A video conference on a secure line as soon as possible?
Director Fury rarely interrupted agents on undercover operations, and he wouldn't be doing it unless there was a very good reason.
She opened her laptop, double checking the security firewall before making the call, turning on the radio in the corner so the classical music prevented anyone in the surrounding rooms from eavesdropping.
Nick Fury appeared on the screen and he gave her a respectful nod. "Agent Carter."
"Director." Peggy greeted. "What's happened? Is it P.E.G.A.S.U.S?"
There was only one reason that she could think of that would warrant an emergency call and that was a development with the research into the Tesseract over in New Mexico.
"No." Fury admitted. "So far, there's been nothing on that end."
"Then what?" Peggy asked. "What is it?"
"It's Operation: Valkyrie." Fury answered. "We've found him."
The breath seemed to vanish from Peggy's lungs and she looked away, hot tears burning behind her eyes. She fought them back furiously, taking a deep breath before turning back to Nick, her face and voice expressionless. "Where is he?"
"They're … thawing him out." Fury answered. "Dr Stiller is on standby; I'll transfer you now."
Peggy nodded jerkily, and the image onscreen switched to a blonde woman in a white coat, who was standing in front of a great deal of activity. "Doctor."
"Good morning, Agent Carter." Stiller greeted. "Or evening, I suppose it is there. I assume Director Fury's filled you in."
"Yes." Peggy said, her throat closing up. "Can I see him?"
"Just a second." Stiller disappeared from view and the image onscreen moved as she picked the camera up and carried it over to the table behind her.
The various doctors and scientists scattered at her approach, and Peggy's breath caught a second time at the sight of Steve, still half encased in ice.
The top half of his body had been freed, his face no longer covered in a mask, his eyes closed as though he were asleep, his lips still blue with cold, and she cleared her throat. "Thank you."
Dr Stiller reappeared on the screen. "We should have him all thawed out in a few hours."
"What can you tell me?" Peggy asked automatically.
"Well …" Dr Stiller seemed to hesitate, but pressed on regardless. "Cause of death was blunt force trauma to the back of the head, I believe. The wound never healed, which …"
"Which it would have done if he'd still been alive." Peggy finished, her voice sounding strange to her. "Was it quick?"
"Oh yes." Dr Stiller assured her. "I doubt he even knew what hit him."
"Good." Peggy said. She could feel herself losing control, and cleared her throat. "Thank you very much, Dr Stiller. Please keep me informed."
Dr Stiller nodded, soft sympathy in her eyes. She was one of the people who knew that Peggy wasn't really her own great-niece Sharon, so knew full well what this news meant. "I will. For what it's worth, Agent Carter, you have my condolences."
"Thank you." Peggy said shortly, ending the call before she could break down completely.
The music floating out of the radio rose to a crescendo and she drew in a shaky breath, curling herself into a ball as the tears began to slip down her cheeks.
For over sixty five years, Peggy had insisted that she had accepted that Steve was dead, worried about Howard's constant claims that he wasn't, assured people that it was a recovery – not a rescue – mission and she knew it.
But now he was home, and she realised that for all her protests to the contrary, at least a small part of her had been hoping and praying that they would find him alive.
Now she could no longer deny it.
"That's it then." She said quietly, her voice fading into the music that filled the room. "It's official."
At some point, she would have to call the families of the other Commandoes and tell them. She was the last, and the families all thought she was Sharon, but they deserved to know.
"Steve …" She began, her voice breaking. If she couldn't say it aloud to herself, she would never manage it to anyone else. "Captain Rogers is …"
Her phone lit up with an incoming call, and Peggy wiped her eyes, answering it once she knew that she had composed herself. "Carter."
"Agent Carter, it's Dr Stiller. You asked me to keep you informed."
"I did." Peggy said, glancing at the clock. "That was quick."
"Well, we haven't finished thawing him out yet." Dr Stiller admitted. "But I had to call you. I was a little hasty in declaring cause of death."
"Oh God …" Peggy whispered, closing her eyes. "Did he drown? Tell me he drowned. That has to be better than freezing to death."
"It would be." Dr Stiller agreed. "But that's not what I meant. I assumed that the wound on his head didn't heal because he was dead, but I believe it may have occurred just before his body temperature dropped to a point of …"
"Doctor." Peggy interrupted. "Did he suffer?"
"Unfortunately, yes." Dr Stiller said, causing Peggy's heart to sink. "But the serum kept him alive."
The last word seemed to echo across the phone line and Peggy reached out to grip the bedpost, feeling the wood splinter under her hands. "Pardon?"
"Captain Rogers is still alive." Dr Stiller repeated. "He's in a deep coma, but all signs of brain activity seem good and his heart rate is slow, but steady. I'm confident of a full recovery."
Peggy's initial reaction to Dr Stiller's announcement was to return to the States, but she forced herself to stay put before she could even put the suggestion across to Fury.
Undercover operations were notoriously difficult to put in place, especially in this part of the world. If she had been dealing with arms dealers or something similar, she would have blown the op and returned home, but the innocent children involved gave her cause to stay.
Steve would understand, when he eventually woke up.
And it was eventual.
Months passed, with no word except a weekly text from Fury reading no change.
Then, one cold night in April, the phone call came.
As timing went, it wasn't ideal. After months of observation, she was ready to take down the leaders of the ring, but to do so she would need better intel, so she was waiting in the darkness of the shipping yard for one of their runners to arrive.
It was a solo operation, with no handler except for the long-range surveillance carried out by the local SHIELD base, but she still had a comm unit in her ear, in case the agents on the ground needed to pass her information.
"Agent Carter."
Peggy hummed quietly to let them know she was listening, her body poised to strike.
"I have Director Fury on the line. He says it's urgent."
"This is urgent." Peggy murmured, before sighing. "Patch him through."
"Agent Carter, are you free to talk?"
"Not really." Peggy answered, as her mark appeared in her line of sight. "Is this going to be quick?"
"Unlikely." Fury said.
Her mark had spotted her and was pulling a gun.
Peggy rolled her eyes, drawing her own weapon. "Then hang on." She ducked, allowing his bullet to pass harmlessly overhead.
Her bullet hit its mark, knocking the gun from his hand, and she holstered her weapon. People would mishear one or two gunshots as cars backfiring, or shipping crates landing heavily, but more than that would attract more attention than she wanted.
Instead, she leapt at him, her thighs wrapping around his neck and flipping him in one smooth motion, a move she had learned from Natasha and worked like a dream every time.
The pressure cut off just enough oxygen to knock her mark out, and she straightened up, hoisting him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Okay, now I can talk."
"Video conference would be best." Fury said, sounding amused. "This is going to be easier to believe if he can see your face."
"If who can see my face?" Peggy asked, crossing the road to the motel, keeping to the shadows. "Wait – Steve? Is he awake?"
"Find a secure line, Agent Carter."
"I am." Peggy let herself into her motel room and unceremoniously dropped her captive, her heart racing. The rooms around her were empty as far as she knew, but she was taking no chances. Turning the radio's volume up and opening her laptop to call Nick, she set about gagging the unconscious man and cuffing him to the radiator.
"Agent Carter." Fury's voice sounded stereo in the room and she grimaced, removing the ear piece and glancing back at his face on the screen. "What are you doing?"
"Gathering intel, Director." Peggy answered cheerfully, 'accidentally' kicking the man in the stomach as she stepped over him. "I want to know who's running the show."
"Well, that's one way of doing things." Fury muttered. "Agent Carter, I assume you remember Captain Rogers."
The picture onscreen swung around so she could see Steve, who seemed to be rooted to his seat, his eyes glued to her face as though it held the secrets of the universe.
Fury's words were for his sake, not hers, and her face lit up in a smile she didn't even try to temper. "As if I could forget."
"Captain Rogers is a little distrustful of us, Agent Carter, so if you wouldn't mind …"
Peggy nodded. "Say no more, Director. If you wouldn't mind giving us some privacy?"
She heard rather than saw Fury leave, but when the door shut, Steve let out a shaky breath. "Peggy?"
His voice trembled on her name and for a second, she was back in that control room, listening to him say goodbye.
"You have no idea," she said softly, "how good it is to see you, Steve."
Steve ducked his head with the shy smile she remembered, and her own smile grew, turning into a frown when she heard a groan behind her.
"Excuse me for one second."
Leaning over to the man cuffed to the radiator, Peggy dug her finger and thumb into the nape of his neck, pressing down on the nerves that made him slump unconscious again.
"Do you need to deal with him?" Steve asked.
Peggy shrugged. "Eventually. He can wait. Not buying the whole SHIELD thing, huh?"
"I started believing it when I heard your voice." Steve admitted. "It just threw me when I woke up – the room looked right, but there was a baseball game on the wireless and I went to it in '41."
Peggy let out a groan, shaking her head. "And these people set up our undercover identities. That's more than a little concerning. Do you have any questions?"
"Just one." Steve said. "Director Fury said it was 2012 and Time Square definitely looked like it was …"
Peggy grimaced in sympathy. Letting Steve directly out into Time Square (although she doubted that anyone 'let' him out) was akin to throwing him into the deep end of a swimming pool when he couldn't swim.
"… but you … I mean …"
"I got a dose of the serum in 1947." Peggy said, taking pity on him. "It stops the aging process. That's why I don't look any older." She sighed. "Listen, I'd love to catch the next flight out of here, but I can't. I have to wrap this up first."
"I understand." Steve said, and her heart swelled with affection, because he did understand. "What did that guy do anyway?"
Peggy cast a dirty look at the man behind her. "He's been trafficking children for the sex industry."
"He's been … What?" Steve looked bewildered and horrified, and she smiled gently at him.
"There are some crappy people in the world, Steve. He'll get his, don't worry."
"Good." Steve mumbled.
Peggy heard the office door open behind him and smiled. "Well, I guess that's my cue. Just fair warning, official story is that I'm dead, so if you hear that, don't worry about it, it's a cover. Okay?"
"Okay. Stay safe."
"You too." Peggy said, the lump returning to her throat. She ended the call before she could talk herself out of it, taking several calming breaths.
Steve was alive. He was awake. He was safe in New York.
And she could see him once she had ensured the safety of thousands of suffering children.
Movement behind her broke through her thoughts, and she turned to face her guest, who had woken up and was tugging at his cuffs with a look of bewilderment. As his gaze landed on her, she smirked viciously. "Nice of you to join me." She said sweetly. "You and I are going to have a little chat …"