This one has been sitting on my computer for over a year. I was listening to Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald sing I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm and there's a line that says "The flame grows higher" and that reminded me of Hogan's Heroes. And then I got to thinking about the episode Look at the Pretty Snowflakes and Carter's terrible trumpet playing. And then this story popped into my head that might explain why Carter can kind of, sort of, but not really play the trumpet. It doesn't necessarily fit into canon since Carter mentions that Cherokee is 'his song' and it wasn't written until 1938, but, eh, go with it.

Also, this story is OC heavy so you can skip it if you want.

October 1935

They were dead. There was no saving them.

Peggy Carter let out a long, unhappy sigh. Despite her best efforts, her shoes had finally fallen apart. It was no surprise- they were worn when she got them and that was nearly four years ago. In that time, they had grown tighter and tighter (or her feet had grown bigger and bigger). She had endured the discomfort because, of course, there had been no money to replace them. There was never any money for anything. Not anymore. If Peggy stretched her mind back, she could remember better days when they always had enough and it wasn't a sin to ask for something new. But those days were long gone and she didn't know when they would return.

Knowing this, she would have gone on with her tight shoes, but they had finally given up the ghost and fell apart completely. So now she and her siblings were up in the attic, rummaging through junk to see if they could find something decent for her to wear on her feet.

"Oh boy, look at all this stuff!" Andy exclaimed excitedly as he grabbed an old lamp from a box.

"That's a pretty lamp," Dottie said. "I wonder why we don't use it."

"I dunno," Andy replied as he inspected it. "It must have been Grandpa's."

"You're probably right," Dottie agreed. "He always said he could never turn down a good deal on something."

"Oh boy, do you remember how frustrated Mother would get whenever he'd bring something home? No wonder it all ended up here."

"He probably snuck in a bunch of stuff she didn't even know about." Dottie looked around the cramped attic. "It's a wonder this all hasn't fallen down on our heads."

"Maybe we could sell some of it," Andy said.

"But who would buy it? No one has any more money than we have," Dottie replied. "Still, we might find something useful. Or at least interesting."

"Well right now," Peggy said, becoming slightly annoyed with her two chatty siblings, "we need to find me some shoes. I'd prefer it if I didn't have to go to school in my mucking boots." Never mind going to a dance, she thought.

Setting down her lantern, Peggy pulled a dusty cedar chest out of its corner. She swiped the top with her sleeve and then blew on it, sending a cloud of dust whirling into the air. She coughed and waved it away before opening the trunk.

"Good find, Peggy!" Andy said, suddenly behind her and looking over her shoulder. "Say, that's some dress! I bet it has shoes to match!"

Peggy's heart sank and filled with dread as she held her lantern up to see the contents of the trunk better. The dress laying at the top of the chest had to be a hundred years old if it was a day. Or it might as well have been. The pale pink dress had puffs at the shoulders, long sleeves and yellowing buttons down the front. It was horribly out of fashion, looking like something her grandmother might have worn.

"I bet you could alter it into something nice," Dottie said, as if reading her thoughts.

"I don't need a dress," Peggy replied as she rubbed the fabric of the dress between her fingers. Surprisingly, it still felt sturdy. Maybe she would alter it into something new. But that was for later. "Right now," she continued, "I need shoes!"

"Well look underneath it," Andy said, reaching over her shoulder to move the dress aside.

Peggy shouldered him away from her. "Can you not crowd me, please? Go look somewhere else." She hated being crowded. In a house with nine people it was hard not to feel crowded but having people climbing all over her in this cramped attic was just too much to bear.

"Okay, okay. Come on, Dottie."

Her younger siblings went off to search through the other things in the attic, no doubt hoping to find some sort of treasure. Peggy would settle for a decent pair of shoes. Underneath the dress, she found them. Well, sort of. They were shoes, all right, and they looked like they were in decent shape considering how old they probably were. But they were far from decent. In fact, they were hideous.

With a groan, Peggy pulled them from the trunk. They were tall and black, with ancient dirt permanently scuffed into the sides. Black laces climbed the front and the toes ended in a sharp point.

"You found some!" Dottie said. Peggy mentally cursed her for being so observant.

"Yes," she conceded. "But I think I'll keep looking. These ones are… I'm going to keep looking."

After an hour, she gave up. It staggered the imagination; they had found just about everything one could imagine finding in an attic, except another pair of shoes that were her size. They had found a few baby boots, but nothing else. Dejected, Peggy grabbed the boots and her lantern, then trudged down the ladder and out of the attic, leaving her siblings behind.

"Did you find anything?" Mother asked when Peggy walked into the kitchen. Peggy, her head down, held up the boots. "Oh good. Do they fit?" Peggy nodded. "Good. Now come help me with dinner. ANDREW! DOROTHY! Those cows aren't going to milk themselves! JULIA, you too. Go out and milk! Alice, I need two jars of potatoes and one jar of carrots from the cellar. Then you can make sure Rebecca is playing nicely with Mary."

"Mother… about the boots," Peggy said hesitantly.

"They look like they're in good shape. What luck," Mother said, her tone implying that Peggy should drop whatever else she was going to say.

"But they're… they're… in need of a good shine," she finally said with a sigh.

"We'll clean them up," Mother assured her. But she put her hand on Peggy's shoulder and offered a sympathetic squeeze before adding, "You're a good girl, Margaret. In fact, you've become a good woman."

Peggy managed half a smile. "Thanks."

It would have been selfish to complain and impossible to ask for something new. She was lucky to have shoes- any shoes. She knew it. Heck, she was lucky to have food to eat and a roof over her head.

Dad had made some sensible financial decisions before the crash which, thus far, had kept them afloat. But times were getting tougher. More than a few of their neighbours had lost their farms. While their little corner of the prairie hadn't been hit as hard as elsewhere, drought had made it nearly impossible to grow anything. Miraculously, they still managed to pull in some wheat. Dad said it was thanks to all the trees his father had planted many years ago. 'They're more than decoration,' Dad always said. 'Keeps the wind out and the snow in.'

That might have been true, but it was still tough to get that dry dirt to grow anything. For the past two years their small family vegetable garden had produced only the most meagre offerings. It forced them to rely on preserves, even in the summer and fall, and their supply was dwindling. They had some cows and chickens, but most of what they produced was sold to anyone who could afford it, leaving them with only the bare minimum.

All in all, this wouldn't be the first time she had gone without something decent, and it wouldn't be the last. She was a good soldier and, as the oldest, she had to set an example. She had never complained before, and she wasn't about to add to her parents' burden by starting now. Shoes were the least of their concerns.

Dinner was almost ready when a terrible sound ripped through the air.

BAAAAARRRRRRUUUUUUMP!

Peggy jumped and, from where she was setting the table, Alice nearly dropped a plate.

"Uff da! What was that?!" Mother cried.

BARUuuuAAAuuuMP!

Peggy groaned. "It must be Andy with that trumpet he found in the attic."

"Trumpet?" Mother repeated, her eyes growing wide. She whipped her head towards the window. "Andrew with a trumpet?! Lord, haven't we suffered enough?!"

"Maybe he'll get bored with it," Alice suggested hopefully, abandoning her duties at the table. She went up to the window and peered out.

The trumpet wailed again.

"Alice, have you met Andy?" Peggy asked.

"A dog with a bone, that boy." Mother shook her head with a sigh. "Oh well. As long as he keeps it outside and away from the house, I won't stop him. He works hard enough; if he enjoys it, let him."

Peggy put her hand on Mother's shoulder and squeezed it. "You're a good mother, Mother." She maintained a serious tone, but broke into a smile when her mother laughed.

"Well, maybe he'll get better," Alice said as she went back to the table to finish up. "He's pretty smart. And he can sing. Maybe that will help."

Peggy winced as the trumpet made an unearthly whine. "I hope so."

"Either way," Mother said, "Dinner is ready. Alice, go call in your siblings. And don't mind setting a place for your father- he's over at the Karlsen's."

"Oh?" Peggy said.

Mother nodded with a frown. She waited for Alice to step out the back door before leaning closer to her oldest daughter. "The bank finally took their farm. Your father is over there trying to get what's left of their cows sold off or butchered."

Peggy's eyes stung with a sudden formation of tears. "Not the Karlsens, too. Where are they going to go?"

Mother sighed. "California, maybe. Or they'll go to Fargo or Bismarck, but I don't know what they'll do there. Now, don't cry," Mother said. "We can't change what's been done and besides, don't want to worry the others. They'll find out soon enough."

"Right." Peggy wiped her eyes and took a breath. A moment later, her siblings were spilling in through the back door. Andrew held up a shiny gold trumpet in triumph.

"Say, Mother! Did you see what I found in the attic!"

Mother hummed. "Yes, and I heard it, too."

Andrew smiled broadly. "I'm going to practise every day. Say, do you think I'll ever be as good as Louis Armstrong?! Have you ever heard him play? I listened to one of his records at Jorgen's during lunch once and, boy, is he great! I think I'm going to ask him if I can borrow his record at school on Monday. And I still have some money from the cattle drive. Maybe I can buy a music book, too!"

"You will not," Mother said, disapprovingly. "All that money is locked away in your school fund. Now all of you wash up and let's eat."

Andrew momentarily scrunched his nose, but then shrugged and grinned. "Oh, that's all right. I'm sure I'll get the hang of it soon enough."

…

He did not.