driftfleet | Heron Mingle

[ some of this comes as a surprise to peggy. not that he should be so spirited on the subject, but rather that these were regulations associated with the accords in the first place. she'd only ever got the broad strokes of the legislation -- it hadn't been what steve had needed to most talk about, in the aftermath. and this is precisely the sort of additional information she'd needed.

she nods, takes a miserable sip of her miserable coffee and looks utterly miserable about it, and then continues onward. ]

Now tell me why you think he opposed them? Why really?

[ all those reasons are valid. and she knows without asking that steve would agree with all of them. but she knows they weren't the real fuel on the fire. peggy thinks she knows, but she'll ask sam's opinion first. ]

Because Steve was just as likely to listen to some idiots at the UN as he was to whoever was in charge of him in the Army, or Nick Fury. He talks about being a soldier, but you and I both know he didn't have the discipline to succeed in the normal chain of command. Steve does what he thinks needs to be done, damn the consequences, and damn actually thinking about it ahead of time. Which isn't to say that he isn't damn good at succeeding at it, just that it isn't always the smartest way to do things.

And being controlled by the UN? You'd better believe that was politics, and Steve doesn't play that game, either. He thinks that being enhanced by the serum gives him the responsibility to protect and help people, and he does that how he sees fit. And he's not wrong, and lord knows I agree with him on that aspect of the Accords, too.

[Sam sighs, and takes a long drink of his shitty coffee, leaning against the cabinet.]

But in the end, it all hinged on Bucky. The Accords would've prosecuted him - would've killed him, first, if we hadn't gone to Budapest to help. [Well. Bucky probably would have escaped and survived without them. Sam's not sure on that one.] So Steve set himself against them, because he wasn't gonna let anything or anyone harm Bucky. And, God help me, I followed, because that idiot needs someone with a brain by his side.

[ the absurdity of it all hits her hard and fast -- she, too, broke rank once upon a time to support steve bloody rogers flouting the chain of command just to drag barnes's ass back to safety. the dressing down she'd received in the wake of that insubordination had been harsh, and likely well-deserved. at the time, she'd argued with the colonel philips that she'd had faith.

faith in steve, faith in his determination, and faith that there were some moments where action must be taken outside the brass's purview. it's a faith she's taken with her beyond the war. it persists, even now, as she considers both the ssr's fate and what will eventually become shield. ]

I saw Steve the night he returned from that mission -- the one where we lost Barnes. [ her tone is tight; guarded. there's nothing about this she likes but maybe it'll fill in a blank. ] He'd found this bombed-out pub. All ruin and ashes. And he was sitting in the middle of it with a bottle of booze that was never going to work. Not like he wanted it to.

There are two people Steve's world revolves around. [Sam sits down again, fingers wrapping around his mug of coffee.] You and Bucky. The two people who knew him best before the serum, the ones who really know who Steve Rogers is, and not Captain America.

[It's a wall Sam's tried persistently to break through. Sure, he'd been a little impressed by the legend - who wouldn't be? But to him, Steve's just Steve, another guy in his squad. A brother in arms. He doesn't know if Steve understands that, though.]

So he was already emotionally compromised, [he's not mentioning why; if Peggy knows, then she knows, and if she doesn't know, then he won't be the one to tell her] and the possibility of losing Bucky again - losing him when he'd never even got him back in the first place? Pushed him over the edge. The straw that broke the camel's back, and Steve's one hell of a camel. He would stand between Bucky and the entire world if he had to, and he did. Wouldn't give up no matter what - I imagine, and this is strictly an unfounded guess, because he felt he already failed him once. He wasn't going to do it again.

[ 'emotionally compromised' -- what a mouthful for grief. peggy is forced to look away when he says it, a rare blip of honesty she can't quite sawllow. from that alone it might be easy enough to surmise she knows. and for however long, she's been living with the knowledge of when she'll die. why she'll die. who, indeed, will be there. most days, she's quite positive on the outlook: not many can boast making it to the ripe old age of 95. but then she's forced to reconcile what that loss might have done to steve, and everything is more difficult to stomach. ]

It's more than that. [ although perhaps sam's already begun to hit the nail on its head. ] I'd received and signed the reports myself. I -- I know what happened. And when I found him, he was already blaming himself. It took just about the last bit of eloquence I had in me to convince him otherwise.

[ to convince steve to give barnes the dignity of his choice. he damn well must have thought you were worth it. but then the rest of the war happens. steve gets frozen; wakes up; fails to fit back into the world. then there comes bucky barnes, alive after all.

and none of them -- not steve, not peggy, not the howling commandos -- had gone after him. even she shoulders some of that blame, today, knowing she'd put her name to that mia report. ]

What a terrible thing it must have been to learn his gut instinct had been right all along: perhaps, if things had gone differently...

[ a shake of her head. ] Steve has a lot of regrets. What happened with Barnes is only one of them.

[Sam reaches across the table when Peggy looks away, places his hand on top of hers. No matter what, the knowledge of your own death has to be a heavy burden to bear. There's a gentle squeeze, and then he withdraws again.]

I lost my best friend in combat. [And if there's the barest flicker of hesitation when he says 'best friend', well, Peggy might not notice. Might not think anything of it.] It was just a standard recon mission, same as we'd flown a thousand times before. But there were insurgents where we didn't expect them, and an RPG - rocket-propelled grenade - caught him in the chest. Nothing I coulda done, but I still blamed myself, 'cause it's the only thing you can do when you can still hear screams echoing in your ears. Took a lot of therapy to convince me otherwise. If I found out- well. I can't say I wouldn't have ended up like Steve.

[ in the wake of a touch she wished she might have avoided, red nails curl against the curve of her mug. she doesn't drink deep, nor often -- the coffee is more like an accessory than a treat. it's nothing personal; peggy simply isn't a very affectionate creature. ]

I'm sorry to hear it -- [ the loss, the pain, the blame. peggy understands a career (a life, really) marked by loss. it's a price she feels she's paid a hundred times over. and it never gets easier to stomach.

for her part, she won't tell what it was like the day steve 'died' and the moment she, too, had to confront the dignity of someone else's choice. that's the sort of story one takes to their eventual grave. ha. ]

For what it's worth -- [ despite her skepticism ] -- I'm glad therapy helped. It's not a burden anyone should be forced to carry.

[ -- if her answers sound a little too curated and revised, it's because they are. she's responding from the head and not the heart. ]

[And he's not going to push her past that. It's not something he needs to know, and some things ought to remain private. The heartbreak of losing a loved one is one of them. He hadn't planned on sharing what happened to Riley so early on in their acquaintance, but it seemed to fit in the conversation - and he doesn't expect heartfelt sympathy, not from someone he's only just met.]

No, it's not. But it seems like Steve never met a burden he didn't want to carry.

[Neatly deflecting the conversation off the awkward subject of himself and back onto Steve again.]

[ ah, yes. straight onto her awkward subject. it treads a little close to old conversations -- to wounds being stitched up by jarvis, lecturing her all the while on taking the weight of the world on her shoulders.

and then there's steve, ever-attempting to do much the same. ]

That's why he's got you lot. [ the avengers, or at least the ones who stuck by him. the colleagues and friends who stayed by his side in the aftermath of it all falling to pieces. ] A few more shoulders to help with the load.

[ a pretty thought; she knows it doesn't always work like that in practice. ]

[On the bright side, it's slightly less awkward than talking about herself?]

I would if he'd let me, but- [A shrug of those shoulders. They might not be as broad as Steve's, but Sam certainly appears more than capable in that department.] I can't do it all, either. Especially when he rarely lets me because he thinks he can do it himself.

-- The trick, Sam, is to be twice as stubborn as he is.

[ which (contrary to popular belief) is utterly possible. but perhaps only for peggy carter alone to manage.

and as quippy as the line feels, it's meant to convey something else: of those blanks sam wanted filled, concerning the aftermath with steve remembered what had happened? she'd been there; she didn't allow him to carry it alone. ]

Yeah, see, I max out somewhere around one and a half times.

[It's an admirable amount of stubbornness, and one that makes him respect Peggy (as long as she's not being stubborn with him). And he understands what she's getting at, to some extent. It eases some of his concern, but not entirely.]

So, you got any other questions you need answered?

None, for the moment. [ but she reserves the right to ask more in future, she supposes. peggy doesn't want to press her advantage too far too fast. they have, after all, 'just met'. ]

Now. [ she sits up a little straighter. time to pay the piper. ] What sort of blanks are you looking to fill? Be specific; I don't care for vague inquiries.

[ might as well be up front with him. ]

Hmm.

[Sam clasps his hands in front of his face, pressing his fingers to his lips as he thinks. Asking about how the emotional turmoil affected him physically seems too much like prying. Asking if Peggy thinks the memories are still causing trouble is too vague. Reading between the lines of what she'd told him provided a good bit of insight, but there's still more information to be gleaned.]

Going from what he told you, what do you think the catalyst for the events was, at least as it applies to Steve?

[It sounds like a goddamn essay question on an exam, not them talking about someone they both care for deeply. But Sam thinks the formal - almost clinical - phrasing might appeal to Peggy more than an emotional plea.]

[ by the card! peggy almost laughs -- watching sam pin down every avenue to duck and dodge. well, nearly every avenue. ]

I don't think it was ever just one. [ a puff of her cheeks. ] Mind you, I wasn't there. [ and in a flicker of grim humour: ] And maybe that was the problem.

But as far as I've been able to piece together, things were coming undone well before I -- well before he lost me.

[ rare hesitation. ]

You aren't wrong.

[Hell, Sam's been watching the cracks widen ever since he met the man, and been powerless to help, more or less. Oh, he does what he can, but most of that is simply being there, and there's a point where his presence just isn't enough.]

About both things. Lord knows we could've used someone with common sense to get both of them to stand down. Someone Steve would actually listen to.

[Although he's not completely sure that Peggy wouldn't have just dug her heels in right alongside Steve. She's stubborn, he can tell that much already - and knew that from Sharon's eulogy - but he thinks she probably would have seen the larger picture in a way Steve hadn't.]

I fear you give me too much credit when it comes to talking him out of anything.

[ -- peggy understands what sway she holds over rogers. how could she not? she'd been his compass, much as he'd been hers. a steady reminder of the human element; leaving indelible marks on her life. but she would never profess to have his ear so perfectly. god, she hopes she never would. his strength of opinion is one of the things she loves dearly about the man.

and, yes, there's always the possibility she might have merely taken his side. ]

Oh, I don't know if you would've been successful, but you would've had a better chance than anyone else.

[Sam can't imagine Steve being swayed by anyone a hundred percent of the time. If he was, then he wouldn't be Steve. Peggy's simply the person with the best odds.]

But I think that quote from you about planting yourself like a tree made him more convinced to stick with everything.

-- I beg your pardon? Which 'quote'?

[ careful, sam wilson. this is dangerously untread territory. ]

[Sam tries to wave it off.]

I don't remember the exact phrasing, you'd have to ask Steve about it. I don't wanna get it wrong.

[Nothing to see here, nope.]

Steve quoted me. [ she misunderstands marvelously -- eyes narrowing as she tries to cope with the incredulity of it all. ] And -- and that somehow made things worse? Is that what I'm hearing?

[ what have you done... ]

Uh.

[He could let the error stand, but it's probably better not to.]

It was- [He's just gonna leave Sharon out of this.] -in one of the eulogies. And I'm not saying it made things worse, just that it reinforced his decision that he was right about the Accords and it was his responsibility to stand against everyone else.

Edited 2017-06-01 02:12 (UTC)

[ -- one of the eulogies. oh, lord. it hadn't occurred to her (somehow) that of course there was a service. she'd known vaguely of her death because she'd seen the grief on steve's face in the wake of remembering it all. he'd not had to tell her what happened; the grip of his hug had said it all. but until this moment she'd not connected the idea of dying with the idea of being remembered. feted, even, for whatever life she'd eventually live. ]

Good God. [ peggy swallows hard. in the days to come, she'll internalize what's being said -- understanding that maybe, just maybe, some off-the-cuff quote of hers had prompted steve to dig his stubborn heels all the deeper in the dirt. but for now, she only has room for one jarring conclusion. ] You were there.

[ at the funeral, the service, the whatever. must have been, to have heard a eulogy at all. peggy sits up a little straighter -- features drawn and guard reestablished. she wants sorely to thank him for having been by steve at that moment but, just now, she can't form a single word. ]

Edited 2017-06-01 02:19 (UTC)

[Sam presses his lips together. He hadn't expected his words to have such an effect on her - oh, he knows that telling someone about their own funeral isn't what you might call a pleasant prospect, but it's a more emotional reaction than he'd anticipated. He almost reaches out for her again, but considering her lack of response earlier, he doesn't think Peggy's the reassuring touch kind of person.]

He needed someone. [Sam glances down at the table, tracing a pattern on the surface.] And I wasn't gonna make him go through that alone.

[ her reaction is emotional, maybe. but no less controlled. peggy had previously felt she might have had at least a loose grip on the conversation at hand -- but that's because she'd felt blissfully disconnected from the man across the table. to understand that he had been there, been present, at a moment close to the one he's describing?

it creates a connection. and one that takes her by surprise. it hijacks her calculated calm. ]

Yes -- [ taut, and utterly distant. there's a moment where it looks as though she may get up and leave. ] It's certainly appreciated. No one should have to do it alone.

[ the memorial they'd held back stateside for steve rogers had been a gaudy, well-attended thing. peggy might never have gone had howard not dragged her there. and, yes, she'd hated every minute of it. but it'd been made more tolerable by his companionship. ]

Heron Mingle

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)