Save It For a Rainy Day
The year was 1938.
Outside, rain fell from the sky, gallons at a time. Though this was a normal occurrence in London, this downpour was different; violent, even.
Peggy Carter was a low-level operative for the Scientific Strategic Reserve, trying desperately to work her way up the rankings. For a woman, her position was high enough, but for her, it wasn't enough. It was not enough to just have ranking, she wanted respect.
Looking out at the flooding streets, she silently cursed the rain for its rude interruption of her day. Now that the weather was unfit, she was unable to train, or to work at all for that matter. She was restless, impatient, even. She walked under the awnings, her leather jacket over her head.
Loki Laufeyson was a troublesome man. Danger seemed to follow him, and at this point, he had embraced it. His past and heritage remained a secret, one he vowed to keep silent. This was his escape, his secret hiding spot. He had not known anything but chaos, and it became a second nature to him. Still, there was a nagging desire for something more than just danger, one he'd never admit to.
As he looked out at the rain from the safety of the local pub, he let out a sigh. To his left, a man called out his name, threatening to hurt him if he did not give him exactly what it was that he wanted. Loki let out a soft chuckle, taking a sip of whatever happened to be in his glass at the time.
"What's so funny, punk?" The man stepped closer, his tone condescending.
Loki turned on his heels, a distant smirk growing. "You are, my friend."
The man grabbed his collar, pushing him against a wall. "Who do you think you are?"
At this exact time and moment, Peggy walked into the bar, throwing her jacket over her shoulders to keep warm. She ordered herself a drink and looked around with a raised eyebrow.
"Wouldn't you like to find ou-," Loki stopped mid-sentence, his eye catching that of hers. Never had he seen a woman like her, not here, or anywhere, for that matter. He stared at her for just a moment, watching her as she slipped the gloves off of her fingertips and folded them properly in her lap, and as she rolled her shoulders confidently, as if she was not concerned of who was watching her.
He was completely and utterly absorbed in this woman he had never met, and he made it his personal mission to change that.
"'Ey, I was talkin' to you!" The man tightened his grip on Loki's neck, forcing his attention upon his attacker. In response, Loki clutched the mans arm and pinned it to his chest, pushing him away with force. Once the man was on the ground, Loki looked to the woman who had his undivided attention, a determined look on his face.
However, the other man seemed to have an agenda of his own. He lunged at him once again, pinning him to the floor. At this point, Loki had enough of this. He put his hands on the man's chest and pushed, sending the man flying. Many stared in his direction, but he didn't care. He cared about one thing, and she was currently taking her last sip of the glass I'm her hand.
He approached her slowly, not wanting to startle her. His eyes met that of the bartender, who nodded obediently without even needed a clear direction. Seconds later, another half-filled glass slid her way, and she looked up at it suspiciously.
"I didn't order a second," she looked up at the bartender, her eyes narrowed.
"No, I did," Loki sat beside her, turning the chair so he faced her.
She let out a sigh, and pushed the glass back. "While I appreciate the offer, I am going to have to decline."
She stood up, setting a few dollars on the bar. "Leaving already?" Loki asked. "So soon?"
She gave him a faint smile as an answer. "I've come for a drink, which I have had. It was my sole purpose in coming here. Since it seems that has been fulfilled, I have no reason to stay."
"Can I try and give you a reason?"
Peggy frowned. "No, I am afraid not. I am a busy woman, I haven't the time for games."
Loki shifted in his seat, shrugging confidently. "Dearie, this is no game." He paused for a moment. "Tell me, why is it that chaos happens around you, and yet you barely flinch?"
She placed a hand on her hip, cocking it slightly. "Fights erupt all the time. If I were to focus on each one, nothing would be accomplished." She paused, mimicking his expression. "Tell me, why is it that you insist on fighting men no less pathetic as yourself, and yet you continue to call it chaos? I presume you've never seen war."
He raised an eyebrow. "And you have?"
"Like you wouldn't believe." She took a deep breath. "Now, may I leave, or are you going to continue to din me with your unreciprocated attempts to woo me into your charm?"
"Ah, so you admit that I do have charm?"
She rolled her eyes. "Learn to take a hint, dearie." With this, she turned on her heels, walking out the door and into the pouring rain.
Naturally, he followed her.
"I'm afraid I'm quite oblivious to hint, darling. You'll have to explain," he lied, talking over the loud sounds of the rain hitting the concrete and steel around them.
"I am not interested," she waved her hand, shooing him away.
"Ah, but it am quite interested in you," he insisted, stepping in front of her. "And I am willing to do whatever it takes to prove that to you."
She raised an eyebrow, stopping on her path back home. "Whatever it takes?"
He nodded, crossing his arms. "Give me an hour. That is all I ask for."
She eventually agreed, in hopes that he would give up afterwards.
He didn't.
The year was 1939.
By the end of the year, war broke out. Suddenly, the work that seemed small and unimportant began to have an effect on the world around them, and Peggy spent more time at war than at peace.
Much to her surprise, Loki was still around. Though she was always doing something, he was there when she came back, and waited patiently until the day came that she was finally given a break. He never admitted to feeling anything but intrigue towards her, and she never admitted to feeling anything towards him at all.
Still, fear crept into his heart each time she left, knowing that it very well could be the last time he would ever see her again, or that she would be hurt, and he would not be there to protect her. She delved into her work, focusing on the war and nothing else, though she at times thought about the person she had waiting for her back in London, if she were to ever return.
When she would come back, he would be waiting at her doorstep. "Ah, it's that stray who continues to appear at my door each time I come back, no matter what," she would say, opening the door for herself. He would follow her in, though she never really minded the company. "It's quite simple," he would respond, "I've waited by your door since you left." She would chuckle and roll her eyes at him, though she did not know how true that statement truly was.
It was a cold December night, the night she returned to find her door unoccupied. "Looks like the stray has finally found a new person to bother," she muttered, though she couldn't explain the feeling of disappointment rising in her stomach. As she walked in, she began to notice how lonely her home had become. The more she left, the less it felt like a home. It was empty, and it was cold. She decided she wasn't fond of it.
She prepared herself tea and sat on a chair, trying to concentrate on the war. In only months, it seemed that it had grown to be a global threat, and though she wasn't quite involved in the war itself, she could sense that it would change quickly. Still, as she sat and tried to focus on the war, she couldn't help but think of where her stray had gone off to.
Had he given up on her? The question kept her awake, staring at the ceiling, rather than falling asleep to the sound of the rain hitting her rooftop. Perhaps he was enlisted, she thought. She had to believe that if he were to leave, it wasn't by his decision. After his tireless efforts, had he finally given in to her constant denials? More importantly, why wasn't she happy about it?
After giving up on getting a proper amount of sleep, Peggy properly covered herself and stepped out onto the small porch she had, standing in the freezing cold. Though she was never one to smoke, especially in public, she made an exception this once. As she breathed in the smoke, she couldn't help but look around for any hints as to where he had gone off to. He wouldn't just leave without saying goodbye, would he? Sure, she had done so multiple times, but out of obligation, if nothing else.
A white envelope lodged in between two bricks caught her attention, and she walked up to it suspiciously, setting the cigarette down safely in the dirt. In neat cursive writing, her name was written on the front. Her heart sank as she recognized what it could possibly be, and part of her did not want to read it. If it was a goodbye message, she wasn't interested.
She paused as she began to realize how much he had begun to mean to her. Whether it was by accident or by circumstance, she had grown attached to the 'stray' who had followed her home. She had forgotten what it was like to be without him while home, and she wondered if it would feel the same again in the future.
Her fingers ran across the tightly sealed envelope as she contemplated opening at all. She took a deep breath, though, and slid her finger under the seal, breaking it as she did so. She peered into the envelope, a small emerald catching the moonlight. She pulled the golden chain out and set it in her hands, practically mesmerized by the beauty of the necklace.
"It has a wonderful story, actually."
Peggy jumped in response to the voice behind her and turned around to face the man. Upon recognizing his face, she let out a sigh of relief. "Loki," she breathed, placing a hand on her chest. "You should know better than to scare a woman at this hour."
"Something told me you would be up," he responded, stepping closer. "I see you've gotten my letter." He motioned to the necklace, smiling softly.
She glanced down at the necklace in the palm of her hand, furrowing her eyebrows in concentration. "I did, though I am still working on understanding what it means," she looked up at him, trying to swallow how happy she really was that he had made his way back.
After a few moments of silence, he motioned once again, this time to her. "May I?" He held his hand out, and she set the necklace in his hand, turning as she was told. She lifted her hair as he clasped the necklace around her neck.
"You mentioned it had a story?" She asked, placing her hand on the gem as she turned back to face him. She didn't much understand why he had give it to her, or why he chose this moment to do so, and she really wasn't interested in the answers quite yet.
"Ah, yes," he nodded, placing his hands together. "It's said to lead you to the thing you want the most. It's an ancient stone, or so I've been told." He motioned to it once again. "That's why I gave it to you."
She ran her fingers over the smooth surface, looking up at him with a smile. "Why is that?"
He stepped closer, refusing to break eye contact. "Because it will only ever lead me to you, so in theory, it is yours anyways."
To this, she could only stand in shock. Her stubborn nature kept her from reacting, but she felt as if her heart would simply jump out of her chest. And as his hand brushed against her neck, she began to notice the quickening of her breath. However, she never once moved away, or even slightly moved away. In fact, it would seem as if she wasn't moving at all.
That is, until he pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers.
For a moment, all was still. To cancel out his action, he leaned back slightly after only seconds, waiting for a response. Stunned, she stood, unable to think of her next move.
Once she regained her senses, she retaliated in kind, forcing their lips together once again. It was a sensation that, though she had been kissed many times in the past, she was still unfamiliar with. Perhaps it was the setting, or perhaps it was the man in front of her, but it was something new, something she could get used to.
As they parted, their breath visible in the cold air, not a single word was uttered. There was nothing to be said, nothing that could be done to either undo, or even recreate the moment that had passed.
"In theory, if this stone were to lead its wearer to the thing it truly desires, I believe it would lead me to you," Peggy whispered, nodding slowly. "Though I can't help but wonder," she added, "if this works in the way you say it does."
Loki let out a soft chuckle, slipping his hand in hers. "Wait to find out," he nodded, pressing his forehead to hers.
"Wait for what, exactly?" She questioned.
"Save it for a rainy day."
The year was 1944.
Years had past since the last time she saw his face, heard his voice, felt his touch. While the pain was still raw, she kept herself distracted in any way she could. Nothing to remind her of the things she had lost.
Since he left, safety came in the form of one Steve Rogers, a soldier no different from her. Her sights had been set, though the vision of her past love never seemed to leave her mind.
Loki, at the same time, kept busy as well. His haven, his escape, seemed more like a reminder of her in the recent days. In a crowd, he'd see her, only to find it to be his mind playing tricks on him. While at first, it was something it could handle, as it grew worse, he felt it necessary to leave.
Returning back home was harder than expected. His brother, Thor, welcomed him graciously, though it seemed he was the only one. His father questioned his whereabouts, his motives in returning, and practically everything else there was left to hold to him. Still, even with plenty of things to cloud his mind, nothing could keep his head from thinking back to the woman he had back in London.
Diving back into the world of romance was nothing Peggy was interested in, not until she met Rogers. Romance, whoever it was with, was a reminder of the past, the ones she could let go of. She reminded herself that it was what he would have wanted for her to do, rather than sit back and mourn over the loss of someone she loved. No, he would expect her to soldier on, just as she always had.
Walking into the Stork Club, wearing the necklace he had given her, was proof of that. Even during battle, she refused to take it off, feeling as if it would finalize something that was not meant to be over. She couldn't think that way, especially not while trying to move past her hardships. It had been worn down over the years, but that didn't matter to her. It wasn't the beauty of the gem that mattered, but the history that made it beautiful to her.
Lying was the hardest part to Loki. His life, chaos, madness, lies, had lead him to a path that was one way, at it was somewhere he refused to take her. It was a kindness, he reminded himself. A protection, even. It was driven by love, and a desire to keep her safe, despite what pain it would bring him, and even her. Still, knowing that he was the one to bring her pain was enough to bother him.
He continued to remind himself that he was worthy of a love like hers. She was rose, and in comparison, he was nothing but a weed, choking her out slowly and unintentionally. She would find someone who could protect her without causing damage, he was sure of that. Though it brought him pain, it brought him joy knowing that she would be happy in the long run.
As she walked out, Peggy kept a hand over her chest, holding the necklace tightly. While the pain outweighed the happiness, it was something she had to do. She was obligated to keep moving, even if it was something she did not want to do.
She looked up, taking a deep breath. Her fingers brushing against the gem, she closed her eyes, wishing for once that it was truly an ancient stone that would take her back somehow and mend the damage that was done. She wondered how long it would take for her to see him again, and if she should even try.
Save it for a rainy day, she reminded herself.
The year was 2012.
Somehow, Peggy Carter found herself far from home, much further than she's ever been.
The thing was, she wasn't alone.
Around her neck hung the emerald necklace, aged over decades now. Still, to her, it did not lose a bit of its beauty. Through the many years, as long as they were, she never let go, and she never forgot her promise.
Adapting to the new world was about as impossible as winning a war alone, in her opinion. First, there was the ability to watch a program through the television screen in more advanced ways than she can handle. This was proving to be a handy invention, especially during the attack on New York.
While most reporters spoke of the aliens plummeting from the sky, Peggy was far more interested in their leader. If there was anything she understood about modern times, it was that war worked the same ways. There was always a man pulling the strings, whether it be a man far away, or closer than it is realized. She wanted to know who was behind it, and how to help.
However, when she found out, she wished she could have taken it back.
On the screen in front of her was Loki, her Loki, performing acts even she could not justify.
Still, there was one fact that stood out to her over the rest: he lied. Not just about leaving, but obviously far more. She was upset, heartbroken even. How was it that he was here as well, and what was he, really?
The answer to her question was revealed quicker than she imagined. Upon figuring out who it was pulling the strings, she took action. Though most entrances to Manhattan were closed, she found a way from her small Brooklyn apartment to the island where chaos had erupted. She knew it was unsafe for her to place herself in the middle of the war, but she knew there were things she could do to help.
Once she found her way to the city, she made it her mission to get to the Stark Tower, where the source of the attack had supposedly been. She wasn't surprised, Tony was much like his father, who enjoyed the spotlight and was typically in the middle of any situation. She dodged attack after attack from the alien army that she still could not wrap her mind around, her mind focused on one thing only.
Getting into the tower was easier than it looked. She stepped in, looking around at the emptiness around her. They must have fled, she thought. She made her way up, hoping she would not run into any trouble. However, what she found was far worse.
Laying in the center of the room, defeated and injured, Loki let out a pained groan. Her breath caught in her throat as she stepped forward, doing all in her power to contain the emotions rushing through her.
"Loki?"
She watched as his expression changed from one of pain to confusion, and as he slowly turned his head to look in her direction. When he did, he stared at her for a few silent moments, trying to figure out whether or not she was real, or if this was just another ghost of his past, coming to haunt him at the worst possible time.
"Peggy?" He forced himself to sit up, groaning in pain as he did so. She stepped closer, keeping her expression as flat as she possibly could. "Is that really you?"
"What is all of this?" She motioned to the windows, where his alien army could be seen soaring through the sky.
"Peggy, let me explain-," he started.
"No, I don't want to know. You were dead. I was there, I had to live with that, and now you are here. But do not mistake my question as a request for you to explain what happened. I would like to know what it is you are planning on doing, what you want to accomplish by this."
Loki watched her with a solemn expression. "A legacy."
She let out a bitter laugh. "And you think this will accomplish that?"
"Yes, I do. These petty creatures will never forget the day their world was conquered by something more powerful than they could imagine, a god, even."
Peggy stepped back, her expression growing cold. "I do not know what it was that changed you, but you've turned into something I barely recognize." She turned on her heels, facing the exit.
He growled under his breath. "I have not changed, I have given into the lie I was fed."
To this, she turned to face him once again. "Yes, I am well aware of how a lie can affect a person," she said, stepping closer.
He gave her a slightly sympathetic look. "It is not like that-"
"Don't tell me what it is like. Do you think this will make you happy?" She looked out of the window.
"It is not about happiness," he reasoned. "I've come too far for happiness."
She shook her head to this. "You could be happy, but you choose to feel pain."
"I was happy once, but I cannot go back to that," he stated, his expression softening. "How are you here?"
"I'd like to ask the same thing to you, though I don't believe that is the question I should be asking."
"It does not matter," he said, looking away for a moment. "You shouldn't be here. It isn't safe."
"I saw you on the television," she interrupted. "I came to see if I had gone mad, or if this was real."
He paused for a moment, looking her over. She must have been real. Every time he saw her, whether it was his imagination or photographs, she was a woman in a different era. This time, she wasn't. She was herself, and it was truly her. His eyes fell to the chain around her neck, and once he recognized the gem, a small, sad smile formed on his lips.
"You kept it, after all of the years."
Peggy narrowed her eyes, trying to understand his statement. She watched him glance at the necklace once again, and her heart sank. She had forgotten how often she wore it, since it had become like skin to her. It was always there, reminding her of what she once lost, and what was now in front of her. "I had to," she responded, placing a hand on the gem.
"Why?" He questioned, moving up out of the crushed concrete underneath him.
"I was saving it," she answered.
"For a rainy day," he added, a small smile growing. He looked outside as the army he had been in control of fell, and yet, he was not upset. "Did it work?"
While she was still angry, there was something pulling at her heart that she could not deny. Relief. Though he was once dead in her eyes, he was here, alive and breathing, though he was injured. Despite the lies and the misunderstandings, she could not deny that she was happy to see him, and that there was a time that this was all she could wish for. Now, it was coming true.
"I am here with you, am I not?" She responded, moving to sit in front of him. "I would like to think it did."
He chuckled softly, but winced soon after, placing a hand on his chest.
"How badly are you hurt?" She asked, lightly touching his face where bruising had already started to swell, and where a thick cut lined his cheekbone.
"Peggy," he whispered, putting his hand over hers and moving it away. "I am fine, or I will be." Silence filled the room for minutes, though it was comfortable. "I lied to you, and for that I am very sorry, Peggy. I wish I could explain, but there isn't time."
She nodded. "I know. I've always believed you would not leave unless you had reason to. I only wish you could have told me before."
"I wish I had as well," he agreed, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. "Knowing I have caused you pain has been my biggest regret.
She let out a quiet laugh, looking away for just a moment before catching his stare once again. "Yes, but you're here now, if only just for a second."
He nodded, his expression growing serious. "I missed you."
"I missed you," she confessed as well, leaning closer. "But there's no need for that now, is there?"
He chuckled. "No, not really." He leaned forward slightly, his smile widening. "You know they will be coming for me, right?"
"I expect nothing less," she nodded. "However, they'll just have to wait."
With this, she pressed their lips together for the first time in years. While it had been an impulse action, she was careful of his injuries, not wanting to hurt him anymore than what had already been done. He, however, was not concerned of his wounds, and treated the kiss as if it were possibly the last chance he would have.
The sounds of movement forced them apart.
"You should go. I wouldn't want you to see me get caught," he leaned his forehead against hers. "I don't know what will happen next, or when I will be able to see you again."
She slipped her hands back, undoing the clasp of the necklace and catching it as it fell off of her neck. She took his hand into hers and set the delicate chain in the palm of his hand, smiling up at him. "You once told me that it would only ever lead to me. If that's true, keep it, and save it."
"Save it for what, exactly?" He asked, closing his palm with the necklace inside.
"Save it for a rainy day."
A/N: For Zenappa, because it's about time I posted this.