thearena | (no subject)

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Who: Peggy Carter and OPEN
What: Arrival
When: early Tuesday morning
Where: Cornucopia and exploring Main Street
Warnings: none yet

Peggy had thought her life had prepared her for any number of odd situations, yet none of them could have prepared her for this. The only redemption to the costume they had forced her into was the boots and cape. The rest would have to go. Immediately if possible. She couldn't be expected to run in all this, stay well hidden or even defend herself. God only knew what the men were wearing. That she had been briefed at all seemed like something of a miracle, but they didn't tell her anything more useful than what she was going to be doing.

She stepped off the platform and into the arena with the sobriety of someone walking to the gallows, but even then she couldn't help gawking. She had seen wreckage. Seen smoldering remains and hollowed homes, bodies falling into mud and on fire and exploding into millions of pieces, yet she still couldn't pretend the sight before her was anything less than extraordinary.

And it was early.

People who managed to sleep would soon be waking and God knew what other kinds of dangers there might be lurking in the hidden shadows, but she was only as good as her knowledge of her surroundings, and there was nothing left for her if she just stood there. Staying alive would be nice, but if she had to chose between death through violence and starving she would pick a fatal wound every time.

So she needed to find food. Food and then shelter and if lucky a place to ditch this bloody awful dress.

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"I don't want to take that away from you. I..." he trails off a bit. He was Captain America for three whole years, but a lot of that was spent touring the US and making terrible movies. For that whole time he didn't see Peggy, he thought for sure that she forgot about him. But she did no such thing; she was the only one who still believed in him even if he stopped believing in himself. She is, quite effortlessly, a better woman than he could have hoped would look his way and more than he deserves, if one could measure that sort of thing.

For the longest time, he thought there's no way he stood a chance with her, and even if he did he'd mess something up and she'd come to her senses. That's what's caught in his throat right now, that thing he doesn't want to drive her away with.

"Um," he says smoothly, to change the subject. "I've gotta meet up with some of my friends. Will you come with me? They won't hurt you; I trust them."

Very smooth, Steven Grant. Peggy can't help the small smile that curls her lips at his stumble, hoping, but not asking, that what he was about to say was exactly what she imagined it to be. Always terrible with women, even the ones who want to talk to him.

"Of course." The other option would be remaining here and there was no chance of that. It was safer to keep moving. Harder to find that way.

She also didn't want to lose sight of Steve. The last time she did ended poorly for them both.

Disastrously. But he smiles a little, assuredly, that everything is so far going well, considering the predicament they're in. "When this is all over, I've got a lot to tell you about the new century." Now that it's starting to sink in that she's really here, he can't help but feel a little relieved because she has that effect on him, but guilty because a familiar face is just what he needed.

Back to serious, he says: "I'm... sorry I missed our date."

"You were indisposed."

She managed it without even a hitch in her tone though her chest ached a little more than it already did when looking at him. There had been a few days where his name alone made it hard to breathe.

She can't claim the same calm when she speaks again. "I forgave you weeks ago."

"How long has it been?" he asks. He doesn't think he wants to know, but she hasn't aged a day. For that, he's grateful. It might be a fresh wound, but hopefully nothing's begun to scar.

He doesn't realize he's begun whispering, doesn't know he's come close enough to do it. He brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, takes to it like a man who's regained feeling from a long time without it.

"Long." Long enough. Peggy ducks her head to steady herself even as she leans into his touch. Too long. She missed him more than she cared to admit. Missed him in ways she had, at eighteen, sworn she would never miss a man. She missed his honesty and honor and his headstrong, stubborn determination to see a job done. He captivated her, made her believe in a project she had seen turn an already evil man into a monster, made her believe in the goodness in people when times were dark.

She even missed his inability to hold a proper conversation with her without getting in over his head, and the blush that would always, always go along with it.

"Steve..."

He wraps his arms around her, strong and warm like a blanket and a fire coming in from a snowstorm. And then he presses his lips to her temple, shuts his eyes like he's praying. In a way, it's kind of like he has been. Everything that kind of welled up inside of him comes flowing and crashing over when she says his name. "Peggy," he says, in reply, in agreement.

"I love you," he says, and then is completely conscious of all the silence surrounding them, and he needs to quickly fill up that void. "I've loved you for years."

That's what he wanted to say.

She clutches him tight, holding him close and fierce like she's afraid to let him go again. Afraid of what may happen if she does. She regrets...No, it doesn't matter what it was she regretted because right now she had this.

And it was utterly unfair that it would happen in this place.

"I love you too."

He knows. He knows, because she was the last person whose voice he heard and she was who his last thoughts were about. He hit the water and as his lungs froze over, all he could think about was how he'd never get to see Peggy's face again.

And alright, somewhere in there he also thought he was coming home to Bucky, to his mother, to finally get to meet his father. But all that happened in a delirious jumble and he can't exactly remember who precisely got to occupy the last of his thoughts, only that it would be fair to name any of those people.

He leans in to kiss her, slow and calm and nothing like they've got a whole life ahead of them.

Heat bloomed in her stomach and spread down to her toes and up to her fingers that she has curled into the fabric of his shirt. They shouldn't be doing this. Not here. But now that she had him, now that he had her, she didn't want to waste another moment thinking about it.

This was a dream, a terrible, wonderful dream and she was afraid thinking might just startle her out of it.

He knows. It's awful, he knows it, that fate would decide to do this right now. But right now is all they've ever had, and he'd like to believe otherwise. He breaks the kiss to kiss her cheek, her brow, her forehead, as if he's just gone blind and he's mapping out the contours of her face with his lips.

Her eyes close as his lips travel across her face, each spot warming under his touch. A smile curls her mouth in an upward tilt and she tips her head just so. Her fingers tease the hairs at the base of his neck as she let's him be, enjoying the feeling too much to complain or make him stop.

For a moment she felt more cherished than she had ever imagined possible. For a moment she let herself imagine the war had ended and they had all survived to see that great day come. That this, here, was their reward for service and no one could come interrupt them any longer. That they were anywhere but in the middle of a different sort of battle where the costs were just as high, but the end was nowhere in sight.

It was a foolish wish. That didn't stop her from desperately wanting it.

They would have moved around, of course, for the job, but Steve would have kept his home in Brooklyn. Then, after a little while, maybe they would have married, agreed on somewhere to build their home together, and then just lived through the 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s and 10s hand-in-hand. They'd maybe have children now, grandchildren even. He would've met Dr. Banner, probably would be Tony's godfather...

That life he sees, that one he could have had, is just so clear to him now that he's here, now that she's back. It doesn't matter that they're in this warzone; he has that opportunity again.

He knows he should be figuring out a way for them to survive, but instead he buries his face in her hair and hooks an arm around her waist, just basking a bit.

"I know." Peggy doesn't even need him to say what he was thinking, she can feel it in the desperation and the way he holds her. All those opportunities lost to time and those they wouldn't be allowed to have here. She rests her cheek against his shoulder, nose brushing his jaw as she exhales and let's her hand drift over the wide-expanse of his shoulders.

She loved him utterly and entirely in that moment, loved him in ways she couldn't even begin to explain and ways she had more than enough words to share with him.

But they weren't safe where they were, there wasn't a place in this so-called arena where they could be, and they would need to leave before someone or something found them huddled there.

"We have to come back here," he says. "In about two hours, a couple of my friends and I are getting together to strategize." He doesn't move though, like if anything happened he could just guard her with his body. He knows that's false, he's just a normal person here, but he could hope. He just... doesn't want to move from this spot, not yet.

He might not have his strength, but he still dwarfs her in size. They already had the argument over her capabilities as an agent and a soldier, it was all a matter of emotion over logic, and Peggy wasn't feeling terribly logical about how safe she felt where she was.

"I don't suppose you have food."

"I," he starts, about to say that he doesn't, because he didn't last time. But he grabbed some tins at the cornucopia, so he passes one off to Peggy. "Got a few weeks up here, hopefully, and all I have is six of those and no water. We'll have to hunt later."

"Lovely. We're in a theme park."

And if they're made to suffer with hot dogs and cola she might scream. That wasn't nutrition. They could as easily rot their guts and teeth with that type of food as live.

"You wouldn't happen to know if they would simply leave food lying around. I would even risk it being a trap if it meant not needing a weapon to get it."

"I don't know," he replies, a little amusement in his voice. "Last time it was a big glacier." He smiles, but there's something wry about it in a slightly uncomfortable way.

"Almost froze to death before we starved." Good thing... some of us can't freeze to death.

And for a moment, Peggy was absolutely with out words. Anger and worry spitefully twirling about in her chest and making her go momentarily blind from the very shock of it.

"What?"

Edited 2013-04-10 03:06 (UTC)

"I have to say, this place is way better," he responds. "At least there are things to hunt, besides each other."

"Steve!" She hadn't been aware her voice could go shrill, but there it was.

"Three of us died within a close span of each other, last time. The last thing I tried to do was keep my friend from dying of hypothermia and frostbite." He frowns, and cups her cheek. "I promise, I won't let you die."

Don't make a promise you can't keep. Peggy leaned into his touch, letting her eyes close for a moment and trying not to recall the utter certainty in Steve's voice when he said he had to crash his plane and the notion of the frigid cold one didn't just forget swallowing him up.

She curled her hand around his wrist and kept him still. "Only promise that if I can say the same for you."

That's decidedly not how this game works, and Steve can't even bring himself to answer her. Instead, he just takes her face in his hands, and kisses her brow. They'll make it through, together.

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