Steve Rogers, aka Captain America (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stark_spangled) wrote2014-10-26 01:03 am
stark_spangled) wrote2014-10-26 01:03 am
Entry tags:
[Personal Log] It's Just an Old-Fashioned Love Song ; Peggy Carter, Deck 7
[Right after this happens...]
Peggy. Peggy is on the Enterprise.
Bucky had been upset -- whatever they talked about had really done a number on him -- but all Steve can think about is Peggy is on the ship. At first he thought she would be old, much like he was even if he didn't look it; the Peggy he left in DC. As Bucky ranted and raved, it became clearer that it was more possible it was the Peggy he knew during the war. Steve has a hard time processing that, even if her picture never leaves his mind.
Once Bucky's settled, and Steve's sure he's not going to do anything to hurt himself, he moves into the halls, bent on hunting down the chief of security. If Peggy is here, he'll know where she is. There's a ball of nerves nestled tight under his ribcage, making him anxious, impatient, aggravated when he can't find the lieutenant, movements quick and choppy. For whatever reason he needs to find her, and he needs to find her now. He's about to start knocking on doors until he finds the right one, but his eyes drift to the computers instead.
Right. This shouldn't be too hard. Steve walks to the wall panel, leaning both palms against it, and stares blankly at the LCARS display. "Uh. Computer? Do you have a Margaret 'Peggy' Carter on file?" It chimes, and the automated voice answers: "Peggy Carter is located on Deck 7, Room #0733."
Steve cranes his neck down the hall, pushing off in the direction of her room before he remembers his manners.
"Thanks," he says, before jogging away from the computer. His feet move quick, that ball of nerves turning into a small boulder; he doesn't know why he feels nervous, why he's breathing fast and fighting off panic, why he has to get down the hall as fast as he can to make her door chime sound, why every second he waits outside, hoping for her to answer, is a kind of slow torture he was never trained for -- but that's where he finds himself, braced against the doorjamb, hoping she'll answer.
Peggy. Peggy is on the Enterprise.
Bucky had been upset -- whatever they talked about had really done a number on him -- but all Steve can think about is Peggy is on the ship. At first he thought she would be old, much like he was even if he didn't look it; the Peggy he left in DC. As Bucky ranted and raved, it became clearer that it was more possible it was the Peggy he knew during the war. Steve has a hard time processing that, even if her picture never leaves his mind.
Once Bucky's settled, and Steve's sure he's not going to do anything to hurt himself, he moves into the halls, bent on hunting down the chief of security. If Peggy is here, he'll know where she is. There's a ball of nerves nestled tight under his ribcage, making him anxious, impatient, aggravated when he can't find the lieutenant, movements quick and choppy. For whatever reason he needs to find her, and he needs to find her now. He's about to start knocking on doors until he finds the right one, but his eyes drift to the computers instead.
Right. This shouldn't be too hard. Steve walks to the wall panel, leaning both palms against it, and stares blankly at the LCARS display. "Uh. Computer? Do you have a Margaret 'Peggy' Carter on file?" It chimes, and the automated voice answers: "Peggy Carter is located on Deck 7, Room #0733."
Steve cranes his neck down the hall, pushing off in the direction of her room before he remembers his manners.
"Thanks," he says, before jogging away from the computer. His feet move quick, that ball of nerves turning into a small boulder; he doesn't know why he feels nervous, why he's breathing fast and fighting off panic, why he has to get down the hall as fast as he can to make her door chime sound, why every second he waits outside, hoping for her to answer, is a kind of slow torture he was never trained for -- but that's where he finds himself, braced against the doorjamb, hoping she'll answer.
no subject
"I've heard of it," he says, in his dry Brooklyn way. He pulls up short when she continues, the lopsided smirk knocked from his face. "What?"
It shouldn't surprise him, really. He remembers the way things were, the way things sometimes still are; but Peggy Carter was a war hero long before he disappeared. Decorated, dedicated, her competence beyond dispute. What general or director in their right mind would stick her in an office? Steve's brows knit, unhappiness marking his face.
"We've still got a lot of work to do," he mutters, lumping himself in with the rest of the country and the world beyond that. If the climate isn't changing, it's as much his fault as it is anyone else's, and he takes responsibility for that. "But it's definitely not the world it was before the war. I'm sorry it didn't change faster."
She'll know that final remark is more of a veiled 'I wish I could have been there to teach those schmoes a lesson' than an apology. He knows Peggy took care of herself, so while he can't say he doesn't wish he was there to look out for her, it's more like he can't stand the idea of any fellow, high rank or not, squandering their best chances at rebuilding based on prejudice.
no subject
Especially one who had fought beside Captain America. She wouldn't tell him the rumors of how she had earned her place with the Howling Commandos. Not unless he demanded it. "My role in the war has changed from soldier to damsel in distress." Keeping her tone light, she gives him a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Every great hero needs someone to rescue."
Squeezing his arm, her expression steadies as she looks up at him. "You gave me a chance, Steve. You changed the world in that moment. It's not your fault that those idiots couldn't see things the way you did." Pausing for a moment, mischief brightens her eyes. "Although, there were times when I would imagine you teaching Dooley a lesson in manners."