Domenika Marzione (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
domarzione) wrote2014-09-16 08:08 pm
domarzione) wrote2014-09-16 08:08 pm
Captain America au drabble: Preserved (redux)
Continued from here
Preserved (redux-ish)
1500 words | PG-ish | Peggy Carter, Bucky Barnes
How complicated a question is it?" Barnes asked sharply. The toddler in his arms, possibly sensing the tension, started to wiggle and fret and Barnes kissed his forehead absently to still him. "You found some sign of him or you didn’t."
Peggy tilted her head a little because Barnes had to know there were more options than that, even if he couldn’t imagine the truth. He’d seen too much during his time at war to think it so simple and she’d bet her best pistol on him having spent more than a few moments over the last eight years wondering what else could have happened since Steve’s plane had gone down.
His loud sigh was answer enough, but the little flare of fear in his eyes perhaps said more than he had intended and she did him the favor of pretending to have missed it.
"Bucky, did you want to—" Maura Barnes, black-haired, blue-eyed, and well into another pregnancy, paused as she came around the side of the house. She looked at Peggy sharply and Peggy recognized a threat assessment when she saw one. She held herself still for presentation; she hadn’t come to seduce Barnes into her bed, but she’d come for him nonetheless and pretending otherwise would do herself no favors. Not when Barnes’s posture was still stiff and he was holding his son more closely than necessary.
"Molly, this is Peggy Carter," Barnes said as he adjusted his grip on the squirming boy turning in his arms to see his mother. "She’s—"
"Steve’s sweetheart," Maura — Molly — finished for him. The appraising look grew sharper as she approached even as she smiled and held out a hand. "It’s nice to finally meet you."
Peggy shook the offered hand and murmured the appropriate words. Molly Barnes knew this wasn’t a social call as well as her husband did, but insisted Peggy stay for supper as if it were. She took the boy from his father’s arms and sent her husband in to change; he had lost the cap and coat, but was still in his uniform, albeit looking a little askew as his son had been tugging his tie free of the waistcoat.
"This isn’t about finding Steve, is it," Molly said, not making it a question as she led Peggy up the walk toward the house.
Molly didn’t wait for confirmation or correction, opening the door for Peggy and then crouching to let her flailing son free once the door had closed behind them. “Down ye get, Matty.”
Peggy must have shown some surprise on her face — if the file on James Barnes had included his children’s names, she hadn’t seen it — because Molly chuckled as she stood.
"He wouldn’t let me name the baby Steven," she explained with a fond smile as she watched young Matty stumble down the hallway like a tiny drunken sailor. "Everyone thought that’s what we’d do for the first boy and I’d reconciled myself to it before Bucky’d even asked for my hand. But when the time came, he said that there were too many babies named Steve already. But this one—" she patted her stomach, "—he’ll be Steve."
Peggy didn’t ask how she knew or if her husband did. “Steve would have been honored,” she said instead, handing over her gloves and hat to Molly’s now-free waiting hands.
"Steve would have been embarrassed," Molly replied, turning to place the items on the table by the closet door, and Peggy coughed out a laugh because it was true. "I might be spending more time with his ghost, but I met the man once and I don’t think Bucky was wrong when he said Steve wouldn’t want it."
Steve had met the then-Miss Raney on a trip to New York shortly before he’d died, Peggy remembered. He’d come back to London impressed and relieved, glad that Barnes had found someone to be serious about and hopeful that this new bond would someday allow them to heal the still-strained one between them. But while there had been letters back and forth after that visit, it would be the last time they saw each other and, clearly, that repair had not been completed in time. One more item on the list of unfinished business Steve had left behind.
She fought back a sudden surge of feeling, the sharp-jagged bundle of emotions she didn’t bother to identify anymore beyond associating them with missing Steve. “He wouldn’t want it for himself,” she agreed, glad her voice betrayed nothing. “And if he were here, he’d fight about it. But he’d want Bucky to be at peace and if honoring him by naming a son after him brought that, then he’d grit his teeth and bear it with a smile.”
"Aye," Molly agreed. "The baby will help, but there’s not going to be peace until Steve comes home, one way or the other. And you didn’t come here to say that he had."
Barnes’s footsteps coming closer to the stairs they still stood near forestalled any reply Peggy might have had. She followed Molly into the living room, an orderly but comfortable space currently winning the war between tidiness and family life despite the presence of young Judy, who was exhorted to clear up the conference of dolls spread across the floor before her brother could grab them and then retrieve her tricycle as her Da had asked.
Barnes, now in a collared shirt and trousers, appeared, cocking an eyebrow and smiling at his son, who’d maneuvered himself into what was undoubtedly his father’s chair and was carrying on a mostly nonsensical conversation with a toy cowboy. He looked less apprehensive than he had outside, but Peggy knew better than to confuse that with being at ease.
He offered her a drink and her choice of seating; she declined on the first and took a seat on the couch for the second. She’d gotten used to world-changing business over cocktails with Howard, but in James Barnes’s world, drinks were offered to guests and, despite her invitation to supper, she was not one.
"Should I be getting myself a drink?" Barnes asked after Peggy had settled herself. Barnes had followed her, sitting down in the chair nearest to her.
"Would it do you any good?" Peggy asked, figuring it was as good an opening as any. Barnes wanted to know why she was here, after all.
The fear returned to his eyes and she regretted it for a moment, but she’d come here knowing that her arrival would be a wrecking ball against the careful building of lies and denial Barnes had constructed since he’d been given a clean bill of health upon his discharge.
He sat back heavily, taking a deep breath as he did so and letting it out slowly. “Enough will.”
They’d known almost immediately that Barnes had been a medical test subject for Zola and for Schmidt and for what purpose those tests had been. And just as immediately, Steve had asked them to make sure nothing came of it. ‘Asked’ was the wrong word — demanded. For all of his naivete, Steve had recognized the power that had come with being Captain America even when Captain America had just been a USO star. And so he’d understood with remarkable clarity what he possessed in the wake of his one-man raid that had netted the Allies hundreds of POWs and intelligence and technology they’d never dreamed of possessing. He’d understood it — and then offered it up in return for Sergeant James Barnes’s freedom.
The deal, such as it was, had been simple. In exchange for Steve indenturing himself to the SSR instead of joining a front-line infantry unit as he could have done, Barnes would go through a full physical exam complete with any and all blood and fluid sample provision, and it would all go into the system without a name. This way, the scientists could see how close HYDRA had been to recreating Erskine’s serum, but there would be no way to trace the samples back to Barnes and thus no way to turn him into a test subject for the Allies. Howard had handled it personally, although Peggy had done most of the behind-the-scenes work to lay down the false trail away from Barnes. Who in turn would go home with the thanks of a grateful nation and a couple of medals, never to be bothered again. They’d lived up to their side of the bargain, Steve had lived up to his, and Barnes had never forgiven anyone for it.
"Why now?" Barnes asked and she could hear the resignation and the anger underneath. "Why now and not then?"
She didn’t know if ‘then’ meant Steve’s death or his own return from captivity. “You know why not then,” she replied, since the answer was the same for both. “Why now… that’s where it gets complicated.”
He looked at her sharply. “You didn’t find Steve. You found someone else. Another one.”
Preserved (redux-ish)
1500 words | PG-ish | Peggy Carter, Bucky Barnes
How complicated a question is it?" Barnes asked sharply. The toddler in his arms, possibly sensing the tension, started to wiggle and fret and Barnes kissed his forehead absently to still him. "You found some sign of him or you didn’t."
Peggy tilted her head a little because Barnes had to know there were more options than that, even if he couldn’t imagine the truth. He’d seen too much during his time at war to think it so simple and she’d bet her best pistol on him having spent more than a few moments over the last eight years wondering what else could have happened since Steve’s plane had gone down.
His loud sigh was answer enough, but the little flare of fear in his eyes perhaps said more than he had intended and she did him the favor of pretending to have missed it.
"Bucky, did you want to—" Maura Barnes, black-haired, blue-eyed, and well into another pregnancy, paused as she came around the side of the house. She looked at Peggy sharply and Peggy recognized a threat assessment when she saw one. She held herself still for presentation; she hadn’t come to seduce Barnes into her bed, but she’d come for him nonetheless and pretending otherwise would do herself no favors. Not when Barnes’s posture was still stiff and he was holding his son more closely than necessary.
"Molly, this is Peggy Carter," Barnes said as he adjusted his grip on the squirming boy turning in his arms to see his mother. "She’s—"
"Steve’s sweetheart," Maura — Molly — finished for him. The appraising look grew sharper as she approached even as she smiled and held out a hand. "It’s nice to finally meet you."
Peggy shook the offered hand and murmured the appropriate words. Molly Barnes knew this wasn’t a social call as well as her husband did, but insisted Peggy stay for supper as if it were. She took the boy from his father’s arms and sent her husband in to change; he had lost the cap and coat, but was still in his uniform, albeit looking a little askew as his son had been tugging his tie free of the waistcoat.
"This isn’t about finding Steve, is it," Molly said, not making it a question as she led Peggy up the walk toward the house.
Molly didn’t wait for confirmation or correction, opening the door for Peggy and then crouching to let her flailing son free once the door had closed behind them. “Down ye get, Matty.”
Peggy must have shown some surprise on her face — if the file on James Barnes had included his children’s names, she hadn’t seen it — because Molly chuckled as she stood.
"He wouldn’t let me name the baby Steven," she explained with a fond smile as she watched young Matty stumble down the hallway like a tiny drunken sailor. "Everyone thought that’s what we’d do for the first boy and I’d reconciled myself to it before Bucky’d even asked for my hand. But when the time came, he said that there were too many babies named Steve already. But this one—" she patted her stomach, "—he’ll be Steve."
Peggy didn’t ask how she knew or if her husband did. “Steve would have been honored,” she said instead, handing over her gloves and hat to Molly’s now-free waiting hands.
"Steve would have been embarrassed," Molly replied, turning to place the items on the table by the closet door, and Peggy coughed out a laugh because it was true. "I might be spending more time with his ghost, but I met the man once and I don’t think Bucky was wrong when he said Steve wouldn’t want it."
Steve had met the then-Miss Raney on a trip to New York shortly before he’d died, Peggy remembered. He’d come back to London impressed and relieved, glad that Barnes had found someone to be serious about and hopeful that this new bond would someday allow them to heal the still-strained one between them. But while there had been letters back and forth after that visit, it would be the last time they saw each other and, clearly, that repair had not been completed in time. One more item on the list of unfinished business Steve had left behind.
She fought back a sudden surge of feeling, the sharp-jagged bundle of emotions she didn’t bother to identify anymore beyond associating them with missing Steve. “He wouldn’t want it for himself,” she agreed, glad her voice betrayed nothing. “And if he were here, he’d fight about it. But he’d want Bucky to be at peace and if honoring him by naming a son after him brought that, then he’d grit his teeth and bear it with a smile.”
"Aye," Molly agreed. "The baby will help, but there’s not going to be peace until Steve comes home, one way or the other. And you didn’t come here to say that he had."
Barnes’s footsteps coming closer to the stairs they still stood near forestalled any reply Peggy might have had. She followed Molly into the living room, an orderly but comfortable space currently winning the war between tidiness and family life despite the presence of young Judy, who was exhorted to clear up the conference of dolls spread across the floor before her brother could grab them and then retrieve her tricycle as her Da had asked.
Barnes, now in a collared shirt and trousers, appeared, cocking an eyebrow and smiling at his son, who’d maneuvered himself into what was undoubtedly his father’s chair and was carrying on a mostly nonsensical conversation with a toy cowboy. He looked less apprehensive than he had outside, but Peggy knew better than to confuse that with being at ease.
He offered her a drink and her choice of seating; she declined on the first and took a seat on the couch for the second. She’d gotten used to world-changing business over cocktails with Howard, but in James Barnes’s world, drinks were offered to guests and, despite her invitation to supper, she was not one.
"Should I be getting myself a drink?" Barnes asked after Peggy had settled herself. Barnes had followed her, sitting down in the chair nearest to her.
"Would it do you any good?" Peggy asked, figuring it was as good an opening as any. Barnes wanted to know why she was here, after all.
The fear returned to his eyes and she regretted it for a moment, but she’d come here knowing that her arrival would be a wrecking ball against the careful building of lies and denial Barnes had constructed since he’d been given a clean bill of health upon his discharge.
He sat back heavily, taking a deep breath as he did so and letting it out slowly. “Enough will.”
They’d known almost immediately that Barnes had been a medical test subject for Zola and for Schmidt and for what purpose those tests had been. And just as immediately, Steve had asked them to make sure nothing came of it. ‘Asked’ was the wrong word — demanded. For all of his naivete, Steve had recognized the power that had come with being Captain America even when Captain America had just been a USO star. And so he’d understood with remarkable clarity what he possessed in the wake of his one-man raid that had netted the Allies hundreds of POWs and intelligence and technology they’d never dreamed of possessing. He’d understood it — and then offered it up in return for Sergeant James Barnes’s freedom.
The deal, such as it was, had been simple. In exchange for Steve indenturing himself to the SSR instead of joining a front-line infantry unit as he could have done, Barnes would go through a full physical exam complete with any and all blood and fluid sample provision, and it would all go into the system without a name. This way, the scientists could see how close HYDRA had been to recreating Erskine’s serum, but there would be no way to trace the samples back to Barnes and thus no way to turn him into a test subject for the Allies. Howard had handled it personally, although Peggy had done most of the behind-the-scenes work to lay down the false trail away from Barnes. Who in turn would go home with the thanks of a grateful nation and a couple of medals, never to be bothered again. They’d lived up to their side of the bargain, Steve had lived up to his, and Barnes had never forgiven anyone for it.
"Why now?" Barnes asked and she could hear the resignation and the anger underneath. "Why now and not then?"
She didn’t know if ‘then’ meant Steve’s death or his own return from captivity. “You know why not then,” she replied, since the answer was the same for both. “Why now… that’s where it gets complicated.”
He looked at her sharply. “You didn’t find Steve. You found someone else. Another one.”