Peggy gripped the rail with one hand, pain still radiating through her arm from where Whitney had touched her, sending tremors of pain into her shoulder and neck. Her mind raced, there were only two ways she could go, she could fall, or haul herself up and fight through Whitney. She knew her preference, fighting was her instinct. She could do it, she could muscle her way up, she was no stranger to a pull up. In her mind's eye Peggy saw how it would play out. Whitney would make contact with her skin again. In what seemed like slow motion, Peggy watched Whitney begin to reach for her. "Don't panic Peggy, there's no time to panic." Peggy stared at the pale skin of Whitney's hand. Whitney would touch her if she tried to get back up. There was no way around that. Zero matter would course through her veins again, causing excruciating pain alongside a feeling that Peggy was unaccustomed to; fear. Whitney's hand was halfway to her now. Whitney wanted her dead. Peggy would die, unless she let go. She squeezed her eyes shut, the panic she had been holding back starting to rise. "I'll be hospitalized after this." The panic rose to the back of her throat and she grasped the bar harder. Whitney's hand was nearly upon her, millimeters from her fingers. Peggy clenched her teeth, summoned all her courage, and, as the tip of Whitney's fingers barely brushed her hand, she released her grip and felt her stomach rise to her mouth as she dropped.
"Peggy, Peggy stay calm. Oh God."
Daniel's voice reached her indistinctly as though a radio. Where was he? Slowly, her vision came into focus. Her body felt strangely numb and immobile. Struggling for air, she lifted her head up to gather her surroundings and instantly regretted it. Pain ripped through her abdomen like a hot iron. Her hands searched frantically for the source, and were met with something warm and sticky, her fingers were quickly covered with blood. Her hands shook as she looked at them, crimson and shining. Like my lipstick, she thought dazedly. Just beyond her hands she noticed something odd. Struggling for breath she carefully lifted her head and saw the rebar. Slowly, slowly, she realized that its position was strange. It was coming straight through her.
Peggy's breathing spiked, quickly escalating to hyperventilation. Her stomach contracted in panic, sending violent waves of pain up her body. Her plight moved Daniel into action. Removing his jacket he pressed it against her wound with one hand, speaking softly to her as he worked. "Peggy, I need you to look at me honey, stay with me, listen to my voice, focus on my face." He smoothed her hair back and leaned in close so she could see him. "Your heart rate is up, and its making you bleed more quickly. Peg, I need you to remember your training, focus on me, control your breathing. Don't you leave me Peg, we're in this together remember? We're a team."
We're in this together. . . I'm with you until the end of the line. She stared vacantly at Daniel, his face seemed to waver, and lose focus. She blinked rapidly, trying to do as he asked. His hair was so dark. . . she hadn't really noticed that before. Dark like the night. . .
Another wave of pain shot through her as she struggled to take a breath. She braced herself against it, turning her head so that her cheek was pressed against the cold concrete block beneath her. This could be it for me," she thought to herself, feeling the blood run out of her beneath her hands. She knew she needed to breathe, but she also knew that when she did, the rebar in her stomach would be jarred again. She closed her eyes, clinging to the coolness of the concrete that pressed into her face.
Gradually, she began to notice someone gently stroking her hair. That's rather impertinent. She thought dully. Who would be doing that? She forced her eyes before her stood Steve. She gaped at him for a moment, her eyes welling up with tears that spilled quickly down her cheeks. Steve reached for her face, and wiped them away. She clutched his hand, pressing it against her cheek with a desperation that would have embarrassed her to witness. She struggled to speak, to tell him she was sorry, that she loved him. Steve shook his head, motioning her not to speak. His image wavered, then focused again. Leaning in close he whispered in her ear, his voice sounding thick, not as she remembered, "Peggy, you have more to do here. This isn't how you're supposed to go. Breathe Peg. Breathe." Shuddering, Peggy took a deliberate breath, and then another. She closed her eyes firmly, still clutching Steve's hand, and focused on slowing her heart rate. Gradually, she could feel it beginning to work.
"Peggy?! Oh my God Peggy breathe!" The terror in Daniels voice startled her awake again, and as her eyes flew open, she saw his panic stricken face, and felt his hand pressed against her cheek.
"I'm- I'm here." She assured him weakly, pulling in shallow breaths. Steve is dead, she reminded herself firmly, and you will be too if you can't focus.
Taking her hand in his, Daniel dropped his head to her side and pressed his forehead to her hand as he all but collapsed in relief. Despite her pain, Peggy was moved at the sight.
"Ms. Carter?! Chief Sousa?" the voice floated through Peggy's head, and with each echo it made off the concrete walls, her mind pulled up memories of her mother, of her Father, of Michael. That voice sounded like England, like home.
"Here! Jarvis help!" Daniel shouted back at him, quickly springing up and waving Jarvis over.
Peggy turned her head feebly to the side and caught his expression when he saw her. His face turned ash white, he paused in horror for only an instant before racing on long legs to reach her side.
"Ms. Carter. . ." his voice came out strangled, words seemed to fail him as his eyes scanned her body and then her face, hands fluttering above her, searching for a way to soothe her. She tried to smile and reassure him, but it came across as a grimace of pain and she let it fall in exhaustion.
"Jarvis, we need fence cutters. I saw a pair back in the third room on the right. We- we have to cut down the rebar so we can lift her off. Get them, we don't have time to waste." Jarvis raced off at a speed Peggy was certain he had never managed before.
Daniel pressed more firmly into her abdomen in an effort to staunch the bleeding, sending a wave of pain and nausea through her in a rush that darkened her vision. She tried resist it, to concentrate, but the pain muddled her thoughts and prevented her from focusing. "I'm so sorry Peg, but I have to stop the bleeding." Daniel's voice seemed to fade in volume. . .
Gradually the pain seemed to ease away. Cautiously, she opened her eyes and looked around. She was standing in front of the field hospital on the front lines. Rain fell in torrents, filling the camp with mud. In the distance gunfire rumbled, but the camp was otherwise silent. Peggy pushed through the tent flaps to escape the rain. The army green tent was lined with beds, each one containing a wounded soldier. Slowly, Peggy walked down the rows of patients. How had she gotten here? She had the distinct impression that there was something important she was missing. Coming upon one of the patients, Peggy quietly pulled the sheet back to see who it was.
There, his face hollow and drained of life lay Michael. He looked just as he had that day they had gone to identify his body. Peggy had avoided the memory of that day for years. His features had been unmistakable and yet so foreign as well. Michael was never this still, his expression never so serious. Peggy stared down at him now in shock. She experienced that moment of realization all over again. He had died there in his hospital bed, alone. The nurses had not been able to save him. She fell to her knees beside him, pressing her forehead into his shoulder, a sob escaping her lips. "I'm sorry Michael." She whispered, her words muffled in his hospital gown. She remained there a few moments, trying to collect herself. Slowly she looked at his face, that beloved face. Once again she began to feel that something wasn't right. Michael had been gone for years, what was his body doing here?
Stiffly she stood back up, driven onward by the feeling that she was forgetting something important. Tenderly, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his forehead, reluctantly covering Michaels face with the sheet. With leaden footsteps she moved to the next bed. It was double the size of Michael's bed. Peggy reach out a trembling hand, faltered and, bracing herself, slowly pulled the sheets back.
Her parents.
Swiftly Peggy jerked her face away not wanting to see what was before her. Her breath came out in a shudder. Her parents had been put in a home while she was away during the war. Her mother had developed Alzheimers, and deteriorated quickly. Word had reached Peggy too late, her mother had passed in her hospital bed, her father at her side. Soon after, her father had taken ill, and with no family left near him, had soon passed as well. Now they lay together before her in the front line field hospital, white and lifeless. Nauseating guilt doubled her over, and once again Peggy hit her knees.
This time full sobs racked her and she twisted the bed sheet in her fists as she cried. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there." She sobbed into the mattress. "I'm so sorry you were alone." And now I am, she thought to herself in misery. She slid her hand into her mothers cold one, and pressed it to her lips.
There, there, Margaret my darling, don't cry. Where the devil is my handkerchief?"
Peggy looked up, startled. The room had changed. She was no longer kneeling at her parent's bedside, but standing in a starkly white room being prepped for surgery. The patient was bleeding profusely from his leg, and doctors swarmed around him, struggling to stop the bleeding as he thrashed in pain. Quickly Peggy went to him, seeing she was needed. Grabbing his hand she spoke soothingly, "There now" she crooned in a low voice, "be still and let the doctors work." The man turned his head towards her and deep brown eyes pierced her heart. Daniel. Her stomach dropped. She looked around quickly, they were in a hospital. Clutching his hand still harder, she began once again to feel panic rise within her. Daniel was in a hospital. People she loved did not return from hospitals. Hospitals were where people died alone. She began to feel as though she were suffocating, and somewhere deep in her abdomen, pain blossomed and grew until it was intolerable.
"Daniel is engaged." A snide voice whispered in her ear. "He isn't yours to love."
"But I do love him." She thought back at the voice. "I can't help but to love him."
"His limb is removed," the doctor told her, cleaning his hands. "The rest is up to him now."
Anxiously Peggy drew Daniel's limp hand to her chest, locking eyes with him. "We're in this together Daniel, you promised." Weakly, he moved to speak.
"I can't do this" the words were double timbered, as though two people spoke them at once, one of them accented.
"We have to Jarvis, on my count, lift her off."
Peggy shook her head, confused. She looked back down at Daniel. He certainly seemed real. She squeezed his hand for reassurance. It was solid.
Peg, I'm going to let go of your hand now, we will get you out of here ok honey?"
Daniels hand began to slip from her grasp
"Daniel no!" she cried as she watched the life begin to drain from his eyes. He was so pale now. "Please don't leave me, I need you!" Her legs buckled and she fell to the cold hospital floor. Pain ripped through her now, it was her whole world. For what felt like five solid minutes, there was only pain and a peculiar high pitched noise coming from somewhere far off.
Strange, her eyes were closed, she hadn't realized it. She opened them. Daniel's sheet white face was before her, his mouth moving, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. The high pitched noise was too loud. Didn't Daniel hear it? His hands were on either side of her face, his eyes glazed with unshed tears, his voice low and rushed. Suddenly she realized, it was her. She was screaming.
Coming to, Peggy pressed her lip tightly together, willing that awful noise to stop coming out of her. As she struggled, her eyes remained wide and focused on Daniel's face. He was here. He was whole. She wasn't alone. Seeming to read her mind Daniel's voice broke through the fog, "I'm here Peggy, I'm ok. I'm not going anywhere."
"Chief Sousa, she needs a hospital." Jarvis's voice near her ear startled her into reality.
"NO! No hospitals." Peggy's voice was surprisingly strong, though bordering on hysterical. She looked around her, she was cradled like a child, pressed against Jarvis' chest, the rebar cut away and removed from her body. Daniel stood over her, pressing his now blood soaked jacket into her wound.
"Peg, you need help. We have to take you there."
"NO." She struggled to sit up, to assume a more respectable position but was met with electrifying pain as a response. She sagged in Jarvis' arms. Tenderly he adjusted his grip and kept her off the ground.
Tears began to roll unbidden down her face. "I can't face a hospital Daniel, please," She reached for his hand, which he quickly gave her. "I can explain it all later, but please, please don't take me there." A shudder rippled through her, and her grip lessened for a moment.
Daniel's heart tore within him. Peggy Carter, the strongest woman he knew, stood before him begging and in tears, bleeding profusely. A vision of his life passed before his eyes, a life that did not include Peggy Carter.
"Ok Peggy, stay with me, no hospitals. The council might find you there anyway. It probably isn't the best idea."
Jarvis looked indignant, his arms tightening around her protectively. "Where are we to take her then? She needs help!"
"I know where to go. Jarvis, help her to the car."
As Jarvis lifted her, Peggy wilted with relief and exhaustion. Daniel crutched himself closer, anxiously checking her pulse.
"She's just sleeping now." Jarvis said gently, looking down into her face. She appeared to cringe, muttering to herself, "Daniel?"
Daniel reached out and squeezed her hand, and watched as she relaxed and fell more deeply into sleep.
Daniel wiped his forehead with trembling hand, exhaling heavily. Jarvis watched his face closely.
The two of them hastily made their way to the car, Jarvis carrying Peggy like a child. As they reached it, Daniel hesitated. "Shall I drive?'
"I think not," responded Mr. Jarvis, "She seems to need to be near you currently, and to be frank, I never was very comfortable in the backseat."
Daniel looked uncomfortable. "She doesn't need me Jarvis, you already have her, give me the keys, I'll drive."
"Forgive me sir, but it's not my name that she continues to call."
Peggy was stirring, her face contorting in pain. "Daniel?"
Daniel sighed and climbed into the backseat, letting Jarvis place her carefully in his arms trying not to jar her. Peggy winced, but settled against Daniel.
"I am in over my head." He thought to himself. "This woman is going to be the death of me." He occupied his racing mind by checking on her wound. The bleeding had slowed and appeared to be under control. Peggy's face was white as a sheet, and she shivered in his arms. He found himself mesmerized by her face, usually so animated and full of crimson color, now so still. Slowly, he pressed his lips to her forehead. "Hang on Peg," He whispered. Unbeknownst to Daniel, Edwin Jarvis's eyes followed his movements in the rearview mirror. His expression was soft and sorrowful.