Hearts in the Snow
The cold monotony of February had settled on the north of France. The snow that fell a few days earlier mostly melted into icy, slushy puddles in the fallow fields of the countryside leaving a flat and dreary landscape of grays and browns. Fieldstone fences divided hedgerows and skeleton trees poked their arms toward a drab, unforgiving slate colored sky.
The muddy road that cut between the fields from hamlet to village had stymied Steve's Commandos. The only good news to come out of that was HYDRA was quiet and there was a short lull in combat from the Germans. Dum Dum was shouting at the regulars over the roar of engines trying to dig their trucks and tanks out of the muck, billows of steam rising from between his moustache and beard like a locomotive. Occasionally, he'd take off his bowler hat in frustration, waggling it around while cussing liberally about the lack of good roads in France. Jacques would then acerbically remind him that American roads were not much better. Morita would agree and Dum Dum would fall silent, stomping off in a huff and puff, muttering that they could figure out how to get these trucks out of the muck.
Steve, temporarily amused by this show, watched from a distance, but then turned away to look over the fields; some shelling craters and blasted abandoned homes were visible over the farmland. Low clouds scudded by in the frigid, raw wind, chafing his cheeks and giving the whole scene one of dejected misery.
A small, ancient stone chapel caught Cap's attention at the edge of some trees. Smoke curled out of the chimney suggesting someone was home. Looking behind him, seeing every one busy with a task, he decided to investigate the diminutive building. Suddenly, the sound of other footsteps joined his and he turned rapidly to see who it was, shield up.
"Whoa, Cap. Just me. Stand down." James smiled broadly at him, hands up. Mud covered his pants to his knees as he had been helping with the trucks and a smear of mud reached up from his forehead into his hair, where he had wiped the back of his hand across it. The mud made his hair stand up in an odd angle.
Rogers began to laugh at his best friend, "Oh, if your mom could see you now. What a mess!" It had been two months since Steve had liberated Bucky and the Commandos from Italy and their friendship was never stronger.
Bucky pouted, "You should see yourself, Star Spangled Man. You have four colors: red, white, blue and cow crap on you!" Steve stopped laughing then both of them burst out as if the happy sound would relieve the doldrums of this sad place.
"Where are you headed on this depressing day?" James asked, catching his breath, bent over, hands on his knees from laughing.
"The little church over there." Steve replied gesturing with his shield.
"St. Stick in the Mud?" Bucky replied with a smirk.
"Don't be blasphemous." Rogers corrected him, giving him a stern look.
"Ok. Sorry." Barnes replied, contrite, as they moved on toward the building. Silence settled over them for a few strides.
They got within twenty yards of the one-roomed grey fieldstone building they could see a miserable wooden cross bracketed over the door and the words inscribed on the lintel "Saint Malo" in chipped whitewash paint. Chickens pecked for grain about the foundation and a donkey was in a small pen, munching on hay. "Cheery place eh?" James said softly as they approached, the gloomy mood of the day affecting him.
Steve glanced at Bucky but kept moving forward. Once at the door, the thick planks of ancient wood held with black iron strap hinges, looked more formidable than they had originally thought. A woman's voice could be heard humming inside. James gestured with eyebrows raised that Steve should knock.
With his red-gloved hand, Rogers rapped on the door three times. The humming stopped. Steve whispered to James, "I think I scared her."
Suddenly, the bolt holding the door shut creaked back with a loud groan and the thick door swung open with a whine. It was the two soldiers turn to jump back in surprise. "Bon jour, Americans." the figure who spoke was an ancient, diminutive woman dressed in black woolen robes and a pristine white edged habit covering all of her hair and wrapping around in the back. A heavy silver chain with a crucifix hung from her neck. Set into the wrinkles of her life, two bright, mischievous hazel eyes peered out at them.
"Uh, oh. I'm sorry for disturbing you… Sister-." Cap stammered trying to recall his Sunday parish manners.
"Sister Magdalene." The small French nun replied in lilting accented English and a smile, "Please, come in out of the cold." She gestured wide with a bony hand.
The two men, giants compared to her, ducked briefly to enter the doorway and into the main room of the chapel. The interior was much warmer than the outside Steve pulled off his helmet, his hair sticking out in odd angles. "Rogers… do I genuflect or cross myself or something?" Bucky shifted nervously trying to remember all the manners Mamma Barnes had whacked into him as a boy. He was acutely and uncomfortably aware of his muddy appearance in a place of worship.
"So nice to see good etiquette in young people." Sister Magdalene, "But no. No need for those formalities. This is my home now more than a church. Please. Have a seat at my table. Can I get you some tea or something stronger?" She turned away from them and shuffled toward her kitchen area.
"Uh, no ma'am." Bucky said uneasily, sitting on a rough-hewn bench in the dirt floored chapel. James glanced around the place. There were only two windows on opposite sides of the building, plain squares of colored glass set into deep casements. Where the altar used to sit was now a small kitchen and just past that a simple hearth and what looked like a small-framed bed near the fire. The rest of the room contained simple pictures of religious icons and brackets for torches or lanterns. Thick leather bound books crowded in small alcoves where perhaps statuary once stood.
"Thank you, Sister. I'm fine." Steve replied, a little more composed than Bucky, also taking a seat on a bench, "We didn't mean to trouble you. Just curiosity. Our trucks are stuck in the mud."
"No trouble at all, young man. Company is always a pleasure." Magdalene shoved two mugs of mulled wine at them.
The men, again in surprise, took the earthenware cups, a tantalizing aroma rising from them, "Thank you." James replied and raised the cup. Rogers looked at Bucky and took a sip as well. Both their eyes flew open and then into the cups. "This is amazing!" Barnes exclaimed.
"I am French. Of course it is delicious." Sister chuckled humorously at them also taking a seat but in a petite rocking chair. Her black robes seemed to engulf her leaving only her hands and face visible in stark contrast to the black fabric.
"Sister, if you don't mind me asking, are you the only one here?" Steve asked after another polite sip.
"Yes, I am. Everyone else moved away or was killed after the Germans bombed us a few months ago. You have to go all the way into town to see another living soul." Sister replied not in sadness but with flint in her voice.
"I am sorry to hear that." James replied sympathetically, elbows on his knees, cradling the warm cup in his hands.
"It is the way of man, to wage war. I thought the War to End all Wars would be the last, but here I am living out Hell on Earth." Sister Magdalene sighed looking around her small abode, "But I continue to do the Lords' work and hopefully that will help stem the tide of evil."
"Mathew 5:14-16.*" Rogers replied earnestly, recalling his days at church.
"Yes, my son." Sister smiled broadly at him. "But enough about sadness and war!" Her tiny hands flew up like birds off her lap, "Tell me, two very handsome young Americans must have some … how do you say it 'sweet hearts' at home? Young ladies who are madly in love with you?"
Cap flushed immediately scarlet staring into his cup. Bucky smiled his cock-sure smile and clapped his friend on his back, "My friend here has a lady. But problem is she is his 'boss'." Steve's look could cut steel but James pressed but then lost his humor as the significance of his words came out, "The other problem is that she is not stationed anywhere… near…here."
"Ah. You know absence makes the heart grow fonder." Sister said, steepling her thin fingers before her, looking fondly at Steve. Pivoting her gaze, she hardened it some at Bucky, "But, young man, before you throw stones at your friend's house, perhaps you should do some soul searching yourself."
Steve leaned back smiling faintly feeling vindicated as he watched Bucky squirm at Magdalene's rebuke.
"St. Valentine's is very soon. I am sure you are aware it is customary for couples to exchange small notions of affection with each other." Sister continued, her eyes twinkling like diamonds. Steve began to get the picture this woman must have been a hellcat when she was younger.
"I… forgot that actually. The days out here just seem to run together." Steve pondered, gazing the colored glass in the windows. Bucky continued to look sour.
"My son, take time to live life, not just be in it. War is not everything and it pains my old soul that it is probably the only thing you have ever known." Sister Magdalene intoned and then looked at Bucky, "Have no fear, Sergeant, love will find you too, although probably when you least expect it. That is always the way of love."
Bucky gave a lopsided grin to the nun as he swirled the dregs in his cup, "Thanks Sister. Glad to know that the not all is lost for me."
"Not all who wander are lost.*" Sister Magdalene replied sagely. James smiled wider.
A knock pounded the church door startling the men, but not the nun, as if she was used to people beating on her door. Cap had his shield raised, Bucky hand on his pistols. "Boys. Put your weapons down. No harm will be done today." Magdalene stated and rose from her chair, moving to the door.
Opening the lock, she swung it open. Blocking the light, but not the cold air, stood the form of Dum Dum. He quickly removed his hat and looked down at the miniscule woman, "Ah, sorry, Sister. I am looking for my commanding officer, Captain America."
"Come in sir. He's right here." Magdalene stepped out of the way. Dugan remained outside. Steve was slightly taken that she knew who he was, but then again, how many soldiers have a big silver star on their chest?
"Thank you but we need to go. Cap, the trucks are ready." Dum Dum called into the chapel.
Rogers looked both grateful and torn to be leaving the delightful nun. Looking at her, he said, "Sister, it's been an honor. Thank you for your time and hospitality."
James nodded his support to Cap's words.
"I'll be praying for you." Magdalene replied allowing the men to pass out the doorway, "But I think with men of worthy hearts like yourself and your friends, good will triumph."
"You sound like someone I knew." Rogers replied thinking of Dr. Erskine.
"Peace be with you." Sister replied and closed the door behind them.
The harsh grey day and muddy ground greeted them again. "Dugan, make sure she gets some provisions from our stores."
"I'll take care of that, Steve." Bucky replied and Cap nodded.
"Let's get moving." Rogers stated and began trudging toward the Howling Commandos.
They made several miles toward the next town before having to call it the night off the road with the waning winter sunlight. Pulling in a clearing, the guys went about their business of pitching tents and making dinner.
Cap and Bucky fixed their tent up like they had done seemingly a thousand times, while the smell of wood smoke filled the air. Steve sat on his travel cot, pulling out his sketchbook. Whittling his pencil quickly with a pocketknife, he began to sketch Sister Magdalene with her craggy face yet youthful expressions. "She really was a firecracker, wasn't she?" Rogers remarked.
"Yeah. She was. A real peach." James replied setting out his pistol and cleaning kit, focusing on his side arm.
"She's right, you know. About Peggy." Rogers worked in the folds of the nun's robes with the edge of the pencil, "I should write her something. It's been a long time."
James remained silent, pushing the barrel cleaning brush gently down the bore of the pistol. In his heart, he knew Steve had more to say, just like he did after a bad day at school of bullies pushing him around, or being shunned again by a girl or the Army. Barnes waited for the words to come. He knew they would.
Steve rambled on as he sketched the chain and cross, "Maybe I could draw her something. I've never had a reason to give a… Valentine before. I mean, what do I say? What should I draw her? A heart? Too immature. Cherubs? Too stupid." Inhaling sharply, he redoubled his efforts on the nun's habit, the fine line dark and hard on the paper. Finally, the pencil snapped. Steve looked up, almost embarrassed at Barnes. Boy was he wound up tight, as the cables of steel wrapped themselves around his shoulders, squeezing the bones tight together like a cage.
Bucky paused in his gun polishing, looking at Rogers. He could feel the fear Cap wasn't saying, and see the obvious love he felt in his body language, as if he were some lovesick puppy. With a gentle big brother smile, Bucky replied, "It's easy, really. Just write what comes from your heart."
"C'mon Buck. You're the silver tongued one. Throw me a bone here!" Steve's voice was tense, a tone Barnes had not heard before.
"You know what makes her tick. Remember, she barely noticed me. She was all eyes for you." Barnes reminded him, after his rescue from the HYDRA camp, "So you are uniquely qualified to write this Valentine."
"Not even one word?" Cap responded, his blue eyes pleading.
Bucky returned to his gun in pieces, "Sorry, buddy. I'll listen to you all you want, but in this case, it's all on you."
The dinner bell sounded.
"Hey, you go on in line. I need to put this back together." Bucky replied quickly as Steve hesitated, setting his sketchbook and broken pencil down on the cot beside him.
"Ok. I'll save you some." Rogers replied and pushed the flap back to exit.
Bucky reassembled his pistol like lightening, something he could do in his sleep, and then pulled out a piece of paper from Steve's sketchbook. Producing his own pencil, he jotted down something, quickly folding it in half and shoving it into his pocket before joining the Commandos at dinner.
They moved on to their Army checkpoint the next day to restock on supplies and have the mail delivered. For once, the sun deigned to show itself, which put a bit of pep in the step of the men. Soldiers waited anxiously for any parcels in brown paper and twine, white envelopes with the hand of their beloved writing their names or any news from home. Cap stood back, letting the Commandos get their news and mail before he slipped his letter to Agent Peggy Carter, SSR, London, England.
James watched him carefully, off on the side from the truck, arms crossed over his chest. There was something else in there besides the Valentine Steve wrote. Despite what he had said in the tent, Bucky felt his friend could use an insurance policy with this situation. It was his duty, as his best friend, that Steve not screw this up.
Rogers turned from the truck, a smile as big as Texas plastered on his face. He caught Barnes's eye and Bucky gave him a thumbs up.
Peggy sat at her London desk, the overhead light harsh to her eyes, piles of folders threatening to swallow her, head in her hands. The smell of dust and wool permeated the air. By invitation, she was moving to the United States to join up with Howard Stark and a new group called S.H.I.E.L.D. The war was over, peace restored to the land and HYDRA seemingly vanquished. Every thing was in in it's place. Except for one thing: Steve was gone.
The tears were always there, just under the surface of her inscrutable façade. His voice fresh in her mind as she talked him down to his death. That was the most horrible day she had ever lived. At home, when her roommate was not there, she let them go. For a few hours, she felt better that she could be the woman she was and grieve his loss, instead of the Iron Maiden she felt she had to be to be taken seriously in this man's world.
Steve understood her as she was. She never had to prove herself to him and he always treated her as an equal. His heart was so big he tried to wrap the world in it and in return gave the greatest sacrifice.
Now, as she looked wearily at the stack of papers before her, his face and voice enveloped her gently like he was reaching out from heaven itself. Closing her eyes, she sank into the memory or was it a daydream?
"Agent Carter, ma'am?" a young woman's voice broke the reverie.
Snapping her eyes open, Peggy looked sharply at the clerk almost making the young lady jump out of her skin, "Yes?"
"Ah.. Colonel Phillips asked me to give these to you before you left. Apparently the Army mail neglected to deliver these." The clerk virtually dropped the large manila envelope and scurried away in a panic.
More paper to shuffle, Peggy thought irritably, sweeping the package off the desk. It fell with a smack to the floor, but one small white envelope escaped. Barely taking note, she did a double take on the handwriting. It was Steve's!
Almost falling out of her chair to pick the small letter, she ripped it open as if were air and she was drowning in a sea of sorrow. Inside was a piece of sketchbook paper and drawn in Steve's hand was the picture of her that he kept in his compass. She had seen the compass in a few newsreels during the war. The detail was exquisite as she lightly traced the lines he had drawn with a fingertip. On the back was a letter:
" My dearest Peggy,
It's Valentines Day and I couldn't let my best girl go without a note. I am missing you like desert misses the rain. Thinking of you always,
Steve"
Peggy clutched the letter to her chest, the floodgates of her eyes about to overspill and ruin her persona as the indomitable Agent Carter. Taking in several deep breaths, she calmed herself and carefully folded the paper to put it back into its original envelope.
As she opened it, another note appeared in different handwriting. Unfolding it, she gave a smirk, immediately knowing this would be from Steve's best friend, Sergeant Barnes. Those two were inseparable, she thought in a bemused way. In the back of her mind, she thought that finally they would be together forever terrorizing the angels with their antics.
"Agent Carter,
In case you have not noticed, my pal Steve has a thing for you. As his best friend, I want to tell you that if you have his heart, you must be one hell of a woman.
It's his first time around in love, so go easy on the big guy. He may be tough on the outside, but he's total goo on the inside.
And if you hurt him, I'm not sure what I'll do. I've been keeping this guy together for too many years to have a dame damage him. He's too good of a pal to leave alone on his own. He needs someone to look after him. Maybe someday that will be your job and not mine.
I welcome that day.
James Buchanan Barnes"
Peggy smiled and almost laughed at the brazenness of Bucky's comments and observations about Steve's character. The reality of James's prediction that someday she would be the caretaker of Steven Grant Rogers would never happen stunned her and the pain roared back in her ears.
Getting up quickly, she went to the ladies room and locked herself in and let her walls come down. After what seemed to be a century of sobbing, a curt knock was heard on the bathroom door. "Agent Carter!" Col. Phillips crotchety voice was on the other side.
"Sir. Not now, please." Carter replied trying to stifle a sniffle. She knew her makeup was ruined and so began to busily wash her face. Better to have no face on than one tear streaked and splotchy.
"No, Agent Carter. Now. Open this door. That's an order." Phillips barked back.
Peggy stopped what she was doing and patted her face dry with a paper towel. Trying to fix her pin curls with her fingertips, she straightened her blouse and put on her best air of dignity she could summon after such an emotional outburst.
Unlocking the door, she saw the stern expression of Phillips, "Yes sir." He pushed himself into the restroom, "Col. Phillips! " Peggy exclaimed.
"Pipe down. Not the first time I've seen this bathroom." He admitted then scowled at Carter's horrified look, "No… it used to be a men's restroom before your time."
"Oh." was all Peggy could summon.
"Before this gets very odd, let me tell you that it is alright to cry. If any man alive in this office questions your integrity as a soldier, agent or officer, because you are grieving two very fine men, then I will personally court-martial them for cowardice. Am I clear?" Chester's face was fatherly and military at the same time.
"Yes sir. Thank you, sir." Carter whispered from her tear-choked throat.
Then Phillips did something he rarely did. He gave Agent Carter a hug. In the older man's paternal embrace, Peggy found herself weeping again but it felt right because she wasn't alone. Valentine's Day and the rest of her life would never be the same.
A/N: I drew inspiration from CA:FA and "Agent Carter" what I could glean from the TV trailers. The Bible quote and other quote are found below.
"You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; 15nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house.16"Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.
"Not all who wander are lost." J.R.R. Tolkien