A story I've wanted to write since I saw the movie last winter. I know. I'm a bit late. But, now I'm super pumped for The Winter Soldier. The following one-shot is obviously AU.
Disclaimer: Captain America belongs to Marvel and Paramount.
Setting: 1943 & 2011 (once Cap is unthawed)
"Come in. This is Captain Rogers, do you read me?"
"Captain Rogers, what is your—?"
"Steve, is that you? Are you alright?" asked Peggy's anxious voice, as she took control of the chair.
"Peggy," Steve began. "Schmidt's dead."
Schmidt was dead.
"What about the plane?" Peggy questioned.
Steve faltered. "That's a little bit tougher to explain," he answered cautiously.
"Give me your coordinates, I'll find you a safe landing site."
"There's not going to be a safe landing, but I can try to force it down," Steve said.
"I can get Howard on the line. He'll know what to do," Peggy tried.
"There's not enough time. This thing's moving too fast and it's heading for New York." Steve paused. "I gotta put her in the water."
"Please, don't do this. W-we have time, we can work it out," Peggy tried again, dread starting to fill in.
"Right now I'm in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer, a lot of people are going to die," Steve explained. "Peggy, this is my choice."
"Peggy?" she heard Steve's voice after a moment of silence.
"I'm here," Peggy said quietly, but it was loud enough for Steve to hear, she hoped.
"I'm going to need a rain check on that dance."
Peggy wanted to laugh and cry, and her voice broke as she answered. "Alright. A week next Saturday, at the Stork Club."
"You got it."
"Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late," Peggy added. "Understood?"
Steve understood. But dread filled his heart as the words hit him, the meaning clear. He wouldn't be there next Saturday. He knew that. Peggy knew that. He was going to crash, and he would die. Steve's own voice started to shake. "You know, I still don't know how to dance."
Peggy couldn't help but crack a small smile at his words. "I'll show you how," she promised. "Just be there."
"We'll have the band play something slow. I'd hate to step on your—"
Then the line went dead.
"Steve?" Peggy asked. "Steve?"
Peggy was getting no response from the other line. "Steve?" she tried one more time, as tears started to silently fall from her face.
Two months later—
Peggy Carter sat upright in the chair of the clinic. Her pale face was even paler than normal. The war was yet to end in Europe, but Peggy Carter was no longer Agent Carter. She had resigned after Captain Roger's death, the sight of war now repulsive.
Steve had sacrificed himself and yet the war continued. Hero after hero lost their lives to the war, both sides showing no signs of resisting. Peggy Carter could not handle it as she relocated back to New York.
"I'm just a kid from Brooklyn."
The words rang clear as she sat in the clinic chairs waiting patiently for her name to be called. While her outer semblance was that of a calm and collected woman, a quick glance at her tightly grasped clutch suggested otherwise.
"Margaret Carter," a voice rang out. A lithe, young nurse stood at the door with a clipboard in hand.
"Miss Carter, your results have come back. Congratulations m'am! You're pregnant."
7 months later—
Margaret Carter, former agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. stared down at the blue bundle in her arms. It squirmed slightly as it opened its pink mouth, forming a small 'o' shape. The baby opened its eyes for the first time, a bright blue color that shined as the mother looked down at her son.
The baby's small hands made a fist as his mother cooed to him. Peggy Carter's eyes a single tear to fall, the drop staining the baby's sky blue blanket. If only his father could see him right now. The eyes were so reminiscent of the Captain.
"You have your father's eyes, Thomas Steve Carter," she murmured once before passing the baby up to the awaiting nurse.
November 17, 2011—
Steve Rogers stared at himself in the mirror, a perfect preservation of what he had been sixty-nine years ago when he had gone down. His characteristic gentlemanly appearance attracted woman yet. His combed hair was gelled to the side, not a hair out of place.
Months had passed since Captain Steve Rogers had been thawed by S.H.I.E.L.D. After his brief escapade into New York City, he was quickly put under a watchful eye by agents working at the headquarters. They had become slightly lenient with each passing day as they began replacing 24-7 bodyguards with security cameras in place.
Once the initial shock had subsided, Captain Rogers focused his efforts on finding what had happened to a certain Agent Margaret Carter. She had resigned from the organization within a year of his disappearance, causing some to raise their eyebrows.
Yet, the S.H.I.E.L.D. never completely let anyone slip from their surveillance. The information gathered on the ex-agent was minimal, but it was still there.
Steve thumbed through the file on his desk, Agent Carter's timeless photo attached by a paperclip. The photo itself, however, was not well preserved as the faded, yellow colored pictured began curling at the sides.
Name: Margaret "Peggy" Carter
Nationality: Dual citizen of Great Britain and The United States
Status: Deceased at age sixty-six in nursing home (November 17th, 1983), survived by son
Survived by son. The document continued to list off Agent Carter's active years in the organization, but there was no more information regarding the son. Steve had flipped through the documents a multitude of times, not gleaning any more information regarding the son's whereabouts. Was it intentionally hidden from him? Perhaps. Nick Fury was quite the shrewd man.
But it didn't matter. What he cared about the most was gone. Peggy was dead.
Steve readjusted his tie one more time. He carried a bouquet of white lilies in his hand. He waited for the black car to roll up. He got into the back seat of the Mercedes. The tinted windows cast a dark, gloomy look on the late fall evening.
Today was Peggy's twenty-eight death anniversary. His impassive face changed ever so slightly as he remembered the last night he had spent with her, giving himself up for the first time to a woman.
She had teased him naturally, and that was the face that had stuck with in his mind. Her everlasting beauty only further highlighted by the smile on her face. Captain Rogers absent-mindedly played with the tie around his neck. A slight tear escaped, but was quickly wiped away by the Captain's suit.
As he stepped out of the car, the clouds threatened to rain. The grey sky further illuminating his mood.
The black granite tombstone stood apart from the others on a small hill. The inscription read the following:
Beloved Mother
Margaret "Peggy" Carter
May 5th, 1917 – November 17th, 1983
"Our debt to the heroic men of our country
Can never be repaid. They have
Earned our undying
Gratitude.
America will never forget their sacrifices."
Steve felt his knees buckle out from under him as he read the inscription. The tears fell wordlessly and shamelessly. His hands quivered while he reached out to touch the stone, the chillness washing up against him like a storm. With his other hand, he placed the lilies on the stone.
He closed his eyes as her face reappeared in his mind. He could hear her voice, lilted with a British accent as she spoke with confidence. And then he remembered the last time he heard her broken voice, holding back sobs, trying to stay strong as she spoke with him.
"Don't you dare be late."
"I'm here Peggy. I'm here. I…I still owe you a dance. You said you'd wait for me. But now, here you are, gone… We never had a chance," his voice broke as he wept shamelessly, his head pressed against the cool stone.
"She spoke of you," a gruff voice came from behind him. "She would always say that you'd come back to dance with her."
Steve turned to face an older man who stood there with a cane in his hand. The man stood the same height and build as the Captain. He was clearly old, but he still had a slight spring to his actions. What startled Steve Rogers the most was the man's blue eyes.
"Mum would mention you," the other man continued.
"Who—" Steve began.
"Thomas Carter," the older man held out a hand. "She was my mother." He nodded once at the gravestone.
Steve opened his mouth to talk, but words failed him.
"She told me stories about the bold, daring Captain America and his sacrifice. She told me everything from the beginning. From when you were a sickly man to your transformation. What you did for our country." There was a grim look on the man's weathered cheek.
"Mum resigned from being an agent cause of you. The war had lost meaning for her as life continued without you," the older man watched Steve patiently, as if waiting for him to breakdown again.
Captain Rogers tried to hold it together. He had had so many questions for Thomas Carter before, and here he was, unable to say a word. He had his fists clenched by the side.
"She named me after you. Thomas Steve Carter."
A dam broke inside Steve, this time unleashing all his penned up emotions. It was a torrent of tears racked the Captain's body, blinding him of his surroundings. The other man's voice was soon lost in the sound of Steve's sobs.
He felt an arm be placed around him. The other man's seemingly frail arms held an unseen strength to them. Comfort. The older man pulled him in closer for a hug. Both men openly let their tears flow beside the grave of Peggy Carter.
Thomas pulled back, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, "I…I always wanted to meet Captain America. The stories I heard. You were my ultimate role model, but as the years went by, mum scarcely mentioned you. She would freeze at the mention of your name. Eventually, I came to think all her stories were pure fiction, a child's superhero story. But I still held on to it. I would pretend that you were my father and role model in one. Mum never once spoke of my father. She simply said he was killed in action."
"Your…father?" Steve finally asked, a question that had bothered from the beginning. "Was he…?"
Thomas's eyes held remnants of his tears, "She told me. A week before she died. She told me. It was the first time she had mentioned the stories in almost thirty-five years. I was forty-one years old then. She told me who my father was. He was great man, Captain."
Steve Rogers looked at the man questioningly. Thomas paused, looking at the gravestone momentarily, "He's here, mum. He's back home." He turned back to the Captain, "We're a full family again, dad."
I hoped you enjoyed this one-shot. If you liked it, give it a fave and a review. I might make this a two-shot if interested, but no longer than that. I'll only write the other chapter if people want (like a quick view at Steve and Thomas's relationship). Just leave a comment in the box below.
And to those waiting till April 4 for Winter Soldier, just over a month away…
~TJ