Contains Agent Carter spoilers from the episode A Sin To Err (episode 6).

Just a short drabble written at 1 AM last night, sort of a takeoff of a previous drabble I wrote, a Natasha/Clint one called Out of the Darkness- Into the Light, where I played with the idea of Hawkeye/Clint being Hydra.

This time, the HYDRA insider is Agent Daniel Sousa.

Please don't take this too seriously; this was written for fun and pure headcanon speculation. Thank you~!

- Margot

Surrounded

"Margaret Carter!"

He came around the bend in the alleyway with the small pistol in his right hand, the crutch in his left. Sunshine made the barrel of the gun shine with threatening promise, instead of the craftsmanship, make and elegance she normally took notice of. With dark eyes narrowed in her direction, Daniel Sousa approached with a moderate, albeit limping pace. Peggy raised her hands, slowly, and drew her mouth into a thin line.

Of all the agents within the Strategic Science Reserve, Sousa had been the last one she had wanted to involve.

The respect he had shown her was gone; Sousa's eyes showed a tumultuous mixture of anger, betrayal, and cynicism, all triggered by whatever news it had been that had alerted the SSR to her actions. How, she had to wonder- how had she been caught? Where had she slipped? What had gone wrong? Those, and other questions rushed through her skull with a breakneck pace- but their answers would have to come later. Figuring out where she had slipped would not help her in escaping a loaded gun pointed at her torso by a highly trained agent and soldier. So, with slow, even breaths, Peggy tucked her chin against her neck, and looked into the eyes of her fellow agent.

"Daniel," She said. "This isn't what it looks like..." Peggy's attention drifted from Sousa, to the alleyway behind her person where Jack Thompson laid- on his back, at the doorstep where she had knocked him out- before it returned to the agent standing in front of her. "There's so much more-"

Daniel's hand wavered; what Peggy interpreted, for an instant, as a chance to reason with her comrade turned out to be a strategic repositioning of his weapon. A shot rang out. Without any change in his body language, without any change in his eyes, Daniel Sousa had pulled the trigger. Suppressing a scream in her throat through held breath and visibly clenched teeth, Peggy collapsed onto one knee. Pain rocketed up from her left ankle- a familiar pain thanks to the war wounds in her right shoulder. The gunshot had her clutching her left leg just above her ankle. Blood welled, coated her hands and rushed to turn her pant leg, sock and shoe black. It was impossible to tell if the bullet had gone clean through, or if she now had a lead chunk sitting where her formerly intact left tibia once was.

Slowly, she turned her gaze up, away from her her blood soaked hands and at the man who had fire the gun. She understood why had had done so, honest to God she did, but- "Daniel-"

-she paused.

Where she had expected to see the face of her colleague, perhaps torn from the decision he just made, and with perhaps a willingness to help, Peggy, instead, saw a stare much darker than before. The gun was still drawn, but held much more confidently. His posture had straightened, though he still slouched slightly to accommodate for the crutch. Slowly, his brows knotted, and he raised the gun from its place near the ground - near her leg - to what Peggy knew was eye level.

"I didn't want to do this, Peggy." His voice was a whisper barely audible to her ears - which rang from the gunshot and the pain that flooded her awareness. If Thompson had been awake, he would have had no hope of catching what Sousa had said, between the ambiance and his distance from the scene.

Peggy almost wish Jack had been awake; what had begun to unfold in front of her felt wrong. Indescribably, horribly wrong.

"I actually liked you. And no one thought you were a threat anymore, with Rogers out of the picture... but then you got yourself wrapped up in all of this mess..." As if disappointed in some way, Sousa frowned an took in a deep breath, which he released in a sigh. He took a step forward; from where she knelt, Peggy inched back.

After a stare down that lasted a perceptible amount of time, Peggy put her weight on her right foot, and lunged for the gun-

-and Sousa fired again.

The shot went straight up; it cut a groove in Sousa's cheek. Blood collected at his jawline and worked its way into his collarbone. Peggy had to blink away a droplet or two that got into her eyes, and forced herself to keep moving. She took the gun from Sousa's grip, threw it down the alley, and kicked the crutch out from under him. Sousa collapsed, and Peggy took the opportunity to backtrack, to retrace her steps back to the diner back doorway. Her gait was frantic; adrenaline masked the pain in her ankle enough for her to move so long as she had a hand against the bricks for balance. She could feel the sick sensation of blood flowing down her skin, into her boot- she could only imagine the trail she left behind her.

Bandaging could come once she was out of sight.

And then...

Jarvis. She had to get away. She had to find Jarvis. She needed to find Howard.

She needed to find out just what the hell was going on.