Authors Note: Hey, so this is my first fic. Please let me know what you think, constructive criticism welcome. I suggest listening to the song Moments by Emerson Drive. I originally had the lyrics in the fic but it has been pointed out to me that this is not allowed, so they have been removed. I don't own anything Enjoy!
Peggy sighed as she pushed her hair out of her face, the bitter New York breeze stinging her cheeks. A small, involuntary sigh escaped her partially closed lips. She silently approached the looming metal bridge, a foreboding structure against the backdrop of the night sky. She understood what she was going to do, what she had to do. It could not happen again, she knew this. Her face twisted into an expression of deep sadness, while her hazel eyes spoke of a story, a tragedy, a woman with the weight of the world on her slim shoulders. A sudden rustling startled her out of her thoughts and she automatically dropped her leg back into a fighting stance. Her keen eyes searching for the source of the unwelcomed intrusion, a homeless man slowly extracting himself from his cardboard "home". She took a breath and continued on. The sound of her heels and the slow shuffle of his feet the only two noises punctuating the silence of the night, as she made her way onto the bridge.
Peggy walked with purpose along the bridge, her heels clacking with every step. However she was all too aware of the unnerving shuffling sounds of the man following her every move. She stopped around halfway across, leaning her elbows on the rail. As she glanced into the murky depts below she was only too aware of the forsaken soul hovering behind her. She dug around in her purse for some money, she wouldn't need it. She barely held in her shiver as her fingers brushed the vial of blood, an unwelcomed reminder. Tears glistened in her eyes as she handed the man some change. She woudn't need it.
He took the money from her, his hands felt rough in her palm as he took the coins. His face a mask of shame as he insisted that he had been happy, once. His gravelly voice seemed familiar yet she could not place it. His soft smile spoke of a life lived with love and joy, his eyes shining in remembrance. Peggy looked at him for the first time. Under the grime and dirt she saw a soldier's stance. A stance she was all too familiar with, she had seen it in many men, good men. She still remembered the shining eyes of men lured in with grand ideas of heroism, they soon learned. She watched man after man broken by the war. The death and destruction weighing heavily on their minds, as they were shipped out to yet another battle zone. The lucky ones died, the unlucky ones made it back as hollow, broken shells. She watched as stories danced across the man's face. He seemed entrapped in his memories, all the while a soft look on his face. Looking at the dirt covered man, one would hardly peg him as a hero but Peggy was sure that is what he was, anyone that fought in the war was a hero. Some were acknowledged more than others. Like Steve, she swallowed heavily her throat suddenly too dry, what would Steve think of her now? She had tried to live with his ideals, god knows she had tried. But she had messed up. She had made an irrevocable mistake.
Peggy stood there gazing out across the city, listening to the sounds of the water below. It would be easy all she had to do was let go. No one would miss her, not after what happened. She let a solitary tear run down her face. How could she have been so stupid? She had been chasing a lead on leviathan when she got back to the Griffith. She hadn't been paying attention; she didn't notice the man following her. Not until it was too late. She had been just about to go to bed when she heard a noise outside her room. She quickly pulled her gun from her drawer and silently opened her door. The scene outside was enough to stop her heart, Angie on the ground, a leviathan agent holding a gun poised to shoot. She had never taken down a man in such a hurry, her fear for Angie overriding all thoughts. She remembers dropping to her knees beside Angie desperate to find a pulse. She could not describe the relief she felt at the steady throb underneath her fingers. Luckily Angie had no recollection of the incident and was persuaded she simply fell. Jarvis took care of the leviathan agent before anyone found him, Peggy did not trust herself to be near him. As soon as she was sure Angie would be okay she left, desperate for some air. She brushed passed Jarvis, ignoring his pleas for her to wait. She had gotten Angie hurt, the one thing she swore she would never let happen. She was a danger to all those around her.
Peggy was snapped out of her thoughts by a chough, glancing over her shoulder she realised the man had not left. His piercing eyes watching her as she contemplated the water below. He must have seen something in her eyes. She felt slightly ashamed for considering this when this man –who was much worse off than her- hadn't given up. She looked at his kind eyes and felt compelled to assure him she was happy, once, unintentionally echoing his words. It was true she had been happy, but this life, the secrets she kept had taken a toll. She just didn't know if she could come back, she didn't know if she was strong enough.
She had been happy before the war, and as horrible it might be, during the war. During the war she had a purpose; she had been respected by her colleagues. She had a mission, a job worth doing. She wasn't seen as inferior simply because she was a woman. Then there had been Steve, a man so true and kind. She loved him with all her heart, but he left just like everyone else she came to care about.
It was becoming a bad habit-losing her friends. Peggy let a bitter smile cross her features. Steve's love had got her through many a crisis, his unshakable faith had seen her through. But back then things had been simpler she hadn't been running around behind everyone's back, trying to secretly take down an evil organisation. She was only being secretive because the men in the SSR were too pig-headed to listen to her. She can't take down an entire evil organisation on her own-she knows this-that is why she involved Jarvis. She couldn't however stomach Angie being in danger, the waitress had wormed her way into Peggy's heart. She knew that she couldn't always protect everyone, but she still felt terrible about what happened to Angie.
Peggy worked through her thoughts and finally came to the conclusion it wasn't her fault. As the fire once again began to burn in her eyes, the man turned and walked away. She turned and watched his slumped figure slowly walk away. Her thank you was little more than a breath of air, but she saw him pause all the same. However he just continued on and she couldn't help but wonder if he would be staying in his cardboard box or maybe sharing stories around a trashcan fire tonight. Peggy stayed a little longer watching the water pass by, but soon began to make her way back to the Griffith. After all she had a job to do and the work never really stopped. She would keep going, she had to for her friends.
Jarvis sighed as he finally closed his front door. He immediately set about removing his hasty disguise. After Peggy had left the Griffith he had been worried about her-the dead look in her eyes had scared him more than he would admit-but she had brushed him off and practically fled. He had a sickening feeling in his chest, so he had crafted a disguise. He had put on some dirty, torn clothes, dirtied his face, adopted a deeper voice and set out. The sickening feeling had only deepened when Peggy had shown up at the bridge. Despite expecting her he had hoped she would not come. So he had followed her, and when she gave him money he had tried to remind her they all went through bad times. However he got caught in his memories of Anna and when he had snapped out of it she had been leaning over the railing again. When she had told him she was happy once, he had felt his voice caught in his throat as he realised the implications of her words. He was about to call out to her when he realised she was deep in thought. As he saw a familiar spark return to her eyes and her shoulders straighten almost imperceptibly, he had made his retreat. He had heard her thank you, carried by the wind, it had given him momentary pause and then he moved on. The response "anytime Miss Carter" never passed his lips.
Both Peggy and Jarvis went to bed that night, thinking of their encounter, as they realised
I've had my moments