Everything was murky. A dark film that clung to her consciousness. From a distance, she could hear the muffled sound of someone's shoe striking tile and the clanking of wheels as a cart passed nearby.
Her head throbbed and her mouth felt like it'd been stuffed with hundreds of cotton balls.
And why did her side feel like someone shot her from close proximity?
A bullet.
A blossom of white hot pain and then nothing.
Peggy Carter forced herself to open her eyes, blinking several times until the world slowly came into focus.
It was night.
She was in hospital room.
She could tell that much from the stark whitewashed walls and the monstrous curtains hanging in a far window. She shifted and bit back a gasp when what felt like fire raced along her left side.
A hand instantly reached out and touched her cheek, and she turned to see Angie Martinelli staring at her with fearful eyes.
"Peggy?"
Angie's voice trembled and, even in her pain, Peggy was dismayed to see tears welling up in the bright blue eyes she had come to know so well.
She tried to say something but found she couldn't get the words out past the cotton in her mouth.
"Water," Angie murmured, reaching for the nearby pitcher and pouring Peggy a glass. She slipped a hand behind Peggy's head and lifted her until she could tilt the glass to her lips.
Peggy eagerly gulped down the cool liquid and sighed in relief as the dryness slowly vanished.
"Thank you," she managed to rasp.
"You must've been parched," Angie said. "You've been sleeping for days."
Peggy closed her eyes and rested her head against the pillow. "I was shot." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah."
The word came out barely more than a whisper, and Peggy opened her eyes to find Angie staring at her. A single tear escaped the corner of Angie's left eye, and she brought a hand up to furiously dash it away.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, turning away.
"Why?"
Angie glanced back and gestured at her. "Here you are, the one who's been shot and lying in a hospital bed, and I'm carryin' on like a big baby."
Peggy tried to work up a smile, but could only manage a faint nod. "True," she said, "But still, I imagine it was rather unsettling for you."
Angie merely nodded but wouldn't turn around and face her.
"Angie," Peggy tried.
When Angie didn't respond, Peggy sighed and reached out an arm to grasp the rail alongside the bed and tried to pull herself to a sitting position. Pain lanced through her side and sweat broke out on her forehead as she fell back to the bed and practically screamed, "Bloody hell!"
At Peggy's cry of pain, Angie whirled around just in time to see Peggy flop back against the mattress, eyes tightly shut and teeth gritted in pain.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded, rushing back to Peggy's side.
Peggy's eyes slowly opened as the pain receded, and she gave Angie a weak smile. "I was trying to get your attention," she gasped. "Did it work?"
Angie narrowed her eyes at Peggy and shook her head in frustration. "Not funny, Margaret Carter."
Margaret.
If Peggy wasn't sure before, she now knew Angie was well and truly upset with her, and Peggy had a fairly good idea as to why.
"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice.
Angie's eyes slid shut at that and she bit down on her lower lip which quivered rather precariously.
"I'm sorry," Peggy said again.
Angie reached down to lace her fingers through Peggy's but didn't say anything. Several times, Peggy opened her mouth to speak, but quickly shut it when she realized there was nothing else to say.
When Angie finally broke the silence, her voice was so soft Peggy had to strain to hear her.
"I almost lost you, Peggy."
"But you didn't."
"But I almost did."
Peggy exhaled and tightened her fingers around Angie's smaller ones. "Yes. You almost did. I won't deny that."
Angie leaned over Peggy and brushed her limp hair away from her face, and Peggy used the opportunity to examine the face of the woman she loved. Dark circles hung beneath Angie's usually vibrant blue eyes – eyes that were duller than she'd ever seen them before – and Peggy could see worry lines around the edges of her mouth that she knew hadn't been there before.
Peggy tried to speak, tried to think of something to say, anything that would comfort Angie, but she couldn't. Aside from giving up her agent status, there was nothing she could do to change the fact that someday she might not be so lucky. That someday Angie might get a phone call telling her to come to the morgue rather than the hospital.
Raising a shaky hand, Peggy cupped Angie's cheek and whispered, "I love you."
Angie nodded. "I love you, too," she said sadly and leaned down to brush her lips against Peggy's.
Peggy pressed forward and kissed her back as best she could, lips opening beneath Angie's as she tried to communicate everything she couldn't say with words. She felt Angie's hot tears fall against her face, and she silently cursed herself for causing her so much pain.
"I love you," Peggy breathed when Angie finally pulled away.
"And I love you. So much that my heart hurts," Angie whispered. She looked at her with grief stricken eyes. "Which is why I can't stay."
Her words hit Peggy like an icy blast of water, and she felt as she'd been shot all over again.
"No."
Angie's fingers slipped from hers, and she shook her head as sobs escaped from her swollen lips. "I can't do this anymore, Peggy. I can't wait for the phone call telling me you're dead."
"Angie, please," Peggy pleaded.
"I'm sorry," she sobbed as streamed down her pale cheeks. "I love you, but this hurts too much."
Peggy tried to rise, but was blinded by intense pain that forced her eyes shut and pushed her back to the bed. "Angie!" she cried over and over as she tried to regain control of her traitorous body.
But when she was finally able to open her eyes again, Angie was gone.
