December, 1950

In which things get a little scary for a while.

(Since this story has been a pretty light one so far, I want to give a heads up for this chapter. A bad thing happens, but it is a bump in the road, and I promise Steve and Peggy and the Steggling are all 100% fine. If you want a brief summary before reading to help you decide, there are notes at the end of the chapter.)

"Do you need to stop and rest for a while?"

Peggy tilted her head up towards Steve with a look. "You're doing it again."

"Sorry."

"I do appreciate the slower pace we're keeping," Peggy said. "But if I am too tired to keep walking, I will say so."

"You're right," Steve said. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Peggy smiled, stretching up on her toes to kiss his cheek and let him know she wasn't cross. Steve did everything he could to try to ease her discomfort—which she appreciated tremendously—and beyond that, he really had been good about treating her like normal after she got pregnant. Though he did have a tendency to get a bit jumpy at just the hint of something being off, he didn't treat her as though she was made of glass.

She was at seven and a half months now, however, and she had gotten large enough for it to start affecting the way she walked. Steve had started hovering more since then, though he usually managed to catch himself and pull back.

"I know your concern is coming from a good place, and you just want to make sure I'm alright," Peggy said. "And I really do appreciate that. But I need you to trust that I know what I can handle."

Steve blushed a little, but he smiled and nodded. "I do. I'm sorry." He was holding her hand, and he pulled it up to his mouth and kissed her fingers. A playful little grin stretched up the corners of his mouth. "Race you home?"

Peggy laughed and smacked him on the shoulder. "Cheeky."

The winter afternoon had a sharp bite to the air, but Peggy didn't mind it too much. As warm as she'd been feeling lately, she was grateful the latter part of her pregnancy was happening during the cooler part of the year—being this pregnant in summer would be terribly unpleasant. And if it did get too cold, well, Steve was always nice and warm.

They were out taking a walk before dinner—the sun was out for the first time after several days of sleet and rain. No snow yet, but it was cold and wet, and there were several patches of ice on the road and sidewalk that made her glad for how tall and steady Steve was, and for his hand holding securely on to hers.

"So, I was thinking for dinner," Steve said. "I thought I might take you out. The Blue Café has that potato soup you like so much on this week." He cast an eye around at the increasingly grey sky. "And it's a good day for soup."

"It is a good day for soup," Peggy agreed. And The Blue Café made excellent potato soup. Somehow, even though she was the one having the baby, Steve was much better at knowing what she was craving than she was. It was a bit spooky, actually, how often he would suggest something, or put a meal together, and have it be exactly what she wanted without her having said a word. Sometimes he even knew what she wanted before she did. She looked up at him curiously. "How do you do that?"

He grinned. "I'm a super-hero. I have super-powers."

Peggy smiled. "I highly doubt eerily accurate prediction of a pregnant woman's cravings was what Dr. Erskine had in mind when he was designing the serum."

Steve laughed at that, so loud that he startled a bird out of a nearby bush. "Maybe it's an unintended side effect," he said, still smiling. "Or maybe I've always been good at it, and the serum just enhanced it. I wouldn't know—this is really the only opportunity I've had to test it."

"Yes, well…" Peggy began. The next five seconds were just a blur of motion and noise, but in the hours and days to come, Peggy would find herself replaying them with startling clarity. The sound of a car engine and the sharp squealing of tires on an icy patch in the road. The driver's face through the front window that was coming too close too fast and the look of panic in his eyes. The feeling of Steve's hands on her arms, pulling her, moving her, throwing her to the side. The voice in her head screaming at her to protect the baby, and the sharp spike of pain as she twisted in the air so that her wrist took the weight of the fall. The gut-wrenching sounds of metal hitting flesh and of a body hitting concrete. The color of the blood, dark red against the light grey sidewalk. Dear Lord, the blood. There was so much of it.

Doors were slamming and people were coming out of houses, and Peggy was sitting in the cold, wet grass, shaking. Concerned hands landed on her shoulders and she brushed them off. "Call an ambulance," she said, her eyes still on Steve. He was lying on the sidewalk, bloody and unmoving. Peggy didn't trust herself to stand just yet, but she rolled around onto her knees and crawled forward until she was next to him. She swallowed down a sigh of relief at the sight of his chest rising and falling. He was still breathing. He was still breathing, and he was still bleeding, and she tore off her cardigan and pressed it as hard as she could against the growing stain of blood on his stomach. Someone she dimly recognized as Mr. Ellestree from a few houses down was doing the same with his jacket and Steve's leg.

It seemed like an eternity and no time at all before she heard the wail of a siren, and an ambulance was pulling to a stop next to the car that had jumped the curb. Medics were swarming around Steve now, and she allowed someone to pull her away and up onto her feet.

She didn't realize she was shivering until a blanket settled over her shoulders. "Ma'am?" asked the man in the medical uniform who had wrapped it around her. Peggy realized he had said it a couple of times. "Ma'am, are you hurt?"

"No," Peggy said, her eyes still on Steve as they loaded him into the ambulance. "He pushed me out of the way, I—" She winced as she waved at the car with one hand. That's right, she had landed badly on that wrist, hadn't she? "I might have hurt my wrist," she told him. "But…" Her uninjured hand drifted down and wrapped protectively around her stomach. She had rolled to avoid landing on the baby, but that had been quite a jarring fall, and a tone of urgency came into her voice. "The baby. I need you to make sure the baby's alright."

The man was already nodding, one arm around her back and one under her arm. "Of course we will, and we'll make sure you're alright too. You come on with us and we'll get you both checked out." He was leading her in the direction of the ambulance. "We'll even let you sit in the back so you can keep an eye on your husband—this is your husband?" he clarified, and she nodded. "Okay," he told her. "Charlie, give the lady a hand up," he said, and one of the men already in the ambulance extended a hand to help her step up.

The next little while really was a blur, and Peggy wondered later if she wasn't going into shock, just a little bit. They arrived at the hospital and Steve was rushed off in one direction and she was bustled in another, and she answered questions and her wrist was seen to (just a sprain), and a doctor came and examined her closely and said there was no harm to the baby that he could see. Her mind settled back into the present as a cup of something warm was being pressed into her hands, and she looked up to find herself back in the waiting area and Edwin Jarvis crouching in front of her and looking nearly as worried as he had done when Ana had gotten shot.

"Mr. Jarvis?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled at her, looking slightly less worried now that she had spoken. "They called me," he told her. "You gave them my number as your emergency contact."

"Oh. Of course."

"I came as quickly as I could. Are you alright?"

"I am," she said. She took a sip of the tea he had given her. "I don't know about Steve, though—he's still in surgery, and…" There had been so much blood. He was so strong and healthy and he had Erskine's serum protecting him and he shouldn't have just been lying there, so broken and still. She swallowed down a lump in her throat. One hand dropped down to rub her stomach, searching for any sign of movement inside as she remembered her other fear. They had said the baby was fine, but… "They said the baby was alright, but he…" She swallowed hard. "He's usually quite active at this time of evening. He hasn't moved since…" Her breath hitched in her throat and worried tears sprang to her eyes.

The cup disappeared from her hands, and then Mr. Jarvis's arm was sliding over her shoulders and pulling her into a hug. She cried into his shoulder, and he patted her on the back, and she tried not to think that she might just lose everything tonight.

She sat up abruptly, suddenly embarrassed at the outpouring of emotion, and wiped at her eyes with the handkerchief he produced seemingly from nowhere. "I'm sorry," she said.

He smiled at her kindly. "Agent Carter," he said. "If there is any time for a loss of decorum, it would certainly be now." That got a small smile out of her. "Think nothing of it. And should you feel the need to continue to weep, I assure you, I do not mind." His smile softened. "You helped me through a frightening time in my own life. Allow me to do the same for you."

She nodded, giving him a small, grateful smile. "Thank you," she said quietly. She let out a stuttering sigh, trying to swallow down the worry clawing inside her chest, and he slid one arm over her shoulders again and pulled her over to lean against him. He held up her cup of tea and she wrapped her hands around it, thankful for the warmth.

They sat there for a while, and Peggy was grateful that he didn't try to comfort her with empty words. Until they knew more, any declarations that things would be fine would just ring hollow, but the solid, reassuring presence of a friend was a great comfort. There was a flurry of commotion at the door, and then Ana Jarvis was there, sweeping over and elbowing her husband aside to lean down and give Peggy a warm hug.

"Oh, Peggy!" she said. "Are you alright?"

"As I can be," Peggy replied.

Ana nodded and straightened up. "Has there been any news of Mr. Carter?"

"Nothing yet," Peggy said, forcing down a tightness in her throat.

Ana nodded again. "These surgeries, they can take time. There will be something soon, I am sure. But while you are waiting…" She picked up the small case she had set down when she hugged her that Peggy recognized as one of her own. "I hope you do not mind that I went to your home. I thought perhaps you would like a change of clothes."

Peggy looked down at her blouse and skirt, realizing with a jolt that Steve's blood was all over them. Bile rose up in her throat and she had to fight down the urge to simply rip them off then and there. "That was very kind, thank you," she said, standing up a little too quickly and wobbling just a bit.

Mr. Jarvis's hand was at her back and Ana's was holding her arm. "May I come and help you?" Ana asked.

"Yes, thank you," Peggy said. She could change on her own, but she didn't want to be alone just yet.

Ana walked with her to the Ladies' Room and stood outside one of the stalls while Peggy stripped off the bloody clothes as quickly as she could. As she slipped the clean shirt on, the skin on the left side of her stomach bulged out quickly before smoothing out again and she gasped, clutching her hands to her belly as the ripple of motion continued beneath them. "Oh," she breathed happily, tears prickling in her eyes again. "There you are, love."

"Peggy, is everything alright?" Ana asked worriedly.

"No, everything's fine," Peggy assured her, aware that her voice was wavering a little bit. "The baby just, he started moving and it startled me." She paused in her dressing, just feeling the flutters of movement underneath her skin and imagining the baby stretching and rolling, testing out his tiny limbs. He was okay. Her baby was okay, and as relief settled into her chest, hope started to find a footing as well. The baby was alright, and Steve would be too.

She finished dressing, and she and Ana returned to the waiting area. Mr. Jarvis was still there, and he was relieved to see that she was alright and to hear that the baby had begun to move again. There was no news of Steve, however, and Peggy had to fight a little harder to hold on to that hope she'd found as the night wore on. It was a very long wait.

Steve came awake very slowly, feeling groggy and heavy and confused. His thoughts felt like they were swimming through molasses as he tried to corral them, and his body felt…weird. He wasn't in pain, not exactly, but something wasn't right. But he couldn't…his brain was incapable of taking that line of thinking any further.

He groaned, and he heard a sharp little intake of breath somewhere off to his right. "Steve?" Peggy asked.

Steve realized his eyes weren't actually open yet, and it took a few seconds to coax his heavy eyelids upward. Once he did, he blinked several times to bring the blur of colors above him into focus, and there she was. "Hey," he croaked, feeling one corner of his mouth lift in a crooked smile.

"Steve!" she breathed, and she was smiling—she had such a beautiful smile—but she kind of looked like she wanted to cry and his heart hurt when Peggy cried, and something was wrong, but his thoughts were still coming thick and slow and he couldn't figure out what it was. "You're awake!" Her hand moved up to rest on the side of his face, and Steve hadn't actually registered until that point that he was lying down and she was sitting next to him. He wasn't sure why she would be sitting in a chair by the bed instead of sitting in the bed with him, but…wait, this wasn't their room, was it?

"Wh's th' matt'r?" he asked, and was he…he was slurring his words a little bit, wasn't he?

Her eyes were glistening, and she was smiling down at him sadly. "There was an accident. Do you remember?" He shook his head heavily. The worried lines around her eyes got a little deeper. "We were out for a walk, and there was a car that slid on a patch of ice in the road. It jumped up over the curb and hit you."

Lightning flashed through his brain, clearing away the cobwebs clinging to his thoughts with a jolt, and Steve did remember. The car had been sliding on the road, out of control, and Steve's enhanced reflexes were sharp enough that he could have dived out of the way, but Peggy couldn't have even if she hadn't been pregnant, and there wasn't enough time to turn and grab her and get them both clear, so he'd spun around to shield her, shoving her away as he did so and praying it would be far enough to be safe. Then there had been an explosion of pain and an impact that felt like every single cell in his body was being hit with a sledgehammer, then merciful unconsciousness.

He snapped upright, a spike of pain shooting through his body that cleared all the lingering haziness from his mind. "Are you okay?!" he asked. "Did it—it didn't hit you?" Had he gotten her clear in time?

"No, Steve, don't do that!" she said, reaching out and grabbing his shoulders. "You'll tear your stitches!" She pushed him back, and he didn't have the strength to fight, dropping back down onto his pillow. "I'm fine," she assured him. "I'm just fine."

"You're really okay?" he rasped, swallowing down the pain suddenly flaring in his midsection.

"I'm really okay," she promised. Her hands moved down from his shoulders, pulling back the blanket covering him and lifting up his shirt. She picked at the tape holding down the bandages on his stomach, let out a sigh of relief at what she saw, then smoothed it back into place. "You're not bleeding," she said, resting her hand carefully on his stomach for a minute before tugging his shirt back down and tucking the blanket back around him. Evidently, he still looked worried, because she smiled and reached up to card her fingers through his hair. "I'm really alright."

"And the baby?" Steve asked, a little afraid to hear the answer. He'd pushed her hard, he knew, and she probably would have fallen, and while that was infinitely better for the baby than being hit by a car, something still could have happened.

"He's fine," Peggy assured him, one hand rubbing a circle over her stomach. "The doctors looked me over very thoroughly when we got here, and he's just fine." She smiled. "He was kicking up a storm a few minutes ago, but I think he's worn himself out."

"You're both okay?" Steve knew he was repeating himself, but that was his whole world sitting in that chair right there. He had to be sure.

"We're both okay," she replied. Her eyes were watering and her voice wavered when she spoke again. "You protected us."

Steve nodded, relief settling into his soul. They were both fine. He wasn't, but he would be. His family was safe, and that was what was important.

The tears that had been pooling in Peggy's eyes started to leak out, and her smile faltered and fell away. "Hey," Steve said, reaching up to take the hand that was brushing through his hair. "What's the matter?"

She tried to smile back but didn't quite make it. "I've been so worried about you," she said.

Steve smiled and kissed her fingers. "I know. I'm sorry. But I'm alright." However bad the accident had been, he was alive and he was healing. And with the serum's help, he should be back on his feet in hardly any time at all.

Peggy shook her head, her lips pressed together in a tight line. "Steve you…you've been asleep for a week."

Steve's eyes widened in surprise. "A week?"

She nodded. "It was really close for a while, and you…" She sniffed. "You hit your head really badly when you fell. They weren't…" She sniffed again and swallowed. "They weren't sure if you were going to wake up."

"Aw, Peggy," he breathed as she started crying in earnest. They both knew how the serum worked, and for him to have remained unconscious for so long…No wonder she'd been so worried. He squeezed her hand tightly in both of his. "I'm sorry," he told her "I'm so sorry." He kissed her fingers again. "But I'm okay now. I'm back."

"I know," she said, sniffling again. "I just…"

"I know," Steve said. She'd been sitting here worrying for a week, trying to hold everything in and stay strong in front of the doctors and whoever else was here. Now that his jolt of panicked adrenaline had passed, his eyes were starting to get heavy again, no doubt helped along by whatever was pumping into the IV in the back of his hand. The pain in his stomach was fading too—Peggy must have convinced them to give him something stronger than usual for it to be that effective against his metabolism. He didn't think that he had an awful lot of consciousness left in him, but he could hardly just fall asleep again and leave Peggy here crying. "Hang on a sec," he said, letting go of her hand.

Very carefully, he levered himself up just enough to straighten his arms and lift himself up. The pain in his stomach flared up again, protesting the movement, but not nearly as bad as a few minutes ago. His left leg chimed in with its own objection as he dragged it over on the mattress, and he must have done something to that as well, but then he had moved over and it was done and he sank back down onto the bed.

"Steve, no, don't—what are you doing?" Peggy asked.

"Making room," he replied. He patted the empty space next to him. "Come on up here."

"Steve, I don't think I'm supposed to—"

"Peggy," he said. "I've already moved over. And it hurt, so, you know, don't make me do that in vain." That got a smile out of her, and he smiled back. "C'mere."

Peggy took off her shoes and climbed up onto the bed, stretching out beside him carefully, mindful of bandages and his IV and ECG leads as she wrapped her arms around him. Steve didn't think the stitches across his stomach would approve of him rolling onto his side, but he managed to shift enough for her to lay her head on his shoulder, and he looped that arm around her and pulled her a little closer to him. "It's okay," he whispered. "I'm here. You didn't lose me." He knew words could only do so much, and he hoped being so close and feeling his beating heart and his chest rising and falling as he breathed and his arms warm around her would do the rest.

She let out a long sigh that stuttered with emotion and relief, and Steve tucked her head underneath his chin and pressed a soft kiss into her hair. "You didn't lose me," he said again. "I'm here. I'm here, and you're here, and we're still together." He let one of his hands drift down to rest on the round swell of her belly, where a sleepy little flutter of motion greeted his touch, as if to say it was good to have him back. He patted it gently and smiled. "We're all here together."

Peggy sighed again, a low, peaceful sigh this time. "I love you so much, darling," she said softly.

"I love you too," Steve replied, kissing the top of her head one more time as his eyes drifted shut. "So very much." She snuggled a little closer into his chest, and Steve allowed sleep to roll in and claim him again, his family safe in his arms.

A summary: Steve and Peggy are out for a walk, and a car slides on the ice on the road and hits Steve. Peggy falls out of the way and is worried about the baby, but both she and the baby are unharmed. Steve is taken to the hospital, and though it takes a while, he wakes up and is okay, save some stitches and a badly broken leg.