➴ o p e n

[mezzanotte]

OPEN POST REDUX ① How this lot usually works. Leave me a prompt. An image, a quote, a sound - a scene and if it clicks we'll play it out, do a sort of really relaxed mini-verse/psl or whatever you wanna call it. Anything goes. If this is something gen, crack, crossovers, aus, something shippy or a kink - go right on. If we like it enough, we could make it a verse or smthng. ② Usual disclaimer of i am a turtle forever and ever ( feel free to nudge me about our thread if I am taking too long ) ③ My whole muselist is up for grabs. If you're looking for someone in specific leave it in the subject line. Less active muses may take longer to reply to; also see muse strength. OCs are also up for grabs.

Comments

[patriotical]

[ fury doesn't tell him that peggy is alive until after the chitauri are done and dealt with. he's a man of secrets - steve knows this - but withholding that sort of information is enough to rile steve up. he punches fury square in the jaw and he doesn't hesitate to grip him by the collar and demand peggy's location.

how could you is all he thinks but he calms when her address is given to him in an updated version of agent carter's file. he doesn't hesitate. it's an hour drive on his bike through the bustling streets of manhattan down to a quieter side of town. he picks up a bouquet he was eying for her grave and decides it will look better in her arms.

when he arrives - his heart feels like it's trapped inside his ribcage. pounding. suddenly - he's 24 instead of 91 and all he can think about is the first he saw her. beautiful and capable of holding her own against a platoon of cocky jocks who didn't see her as anything more than a pretty face. how of all the dames in the world he's looked at - she's the only one who's ever looked back. she saw him for who he was before the serum and she waited for him.

he rings the door bell and waits. he knows the wait between her answering the door and what she went through will never measure, but it feels like lifetimes none the less. ]

[solidrighthook]

[ she only finds out because of the news coverage, although her reaction is much more subdued. she watches the tv as the man that she'd loved, lost, but never forgotten fight for his life and the good of humanity. it's amazing how little it takes to push her back to the woman she was almost seventy years ago.

she doesn't do anything though - doesn't even call fury and he has to know that she's seen it by now. she just takes in the information, processes it as best as she can, and tries to figure out what to do next. she isn't the same person she was at the end of the war, of course she's not. it's been too long, she's seen so much, but it's steve. it's steve, and she'd never married, and she knows that there's a photo hidden somewhere in the depths of a drawer where it can't ever be accidentally stumbled upon that speaks volumes about the torch she once bore for the man and how brightly it still burns.

peggy doesn't get many visitors, and she likes it that way. she doesn't enjoy the unexpected, and that's why she frowns when the bell rings on that particular day. she has no plans, no work to do. nothing that should be interrupting her day, and yet the two tone chime has done just that. it's force of habit that sees her tucking a gun into the back of her belt, but when she checks through the peephole she nearly doesn't answer at all.

it's him. steve has come here, to her home, and it can't be coincidence. it can't just be dumb luck that has him standing on her doorstep, he has to know. she nearly doesn't answer, but eventually she does. she leaves the chain on the door and pulls it open just the few inches that it allows, and for a moment jut stands in silence as she looks at him. ]

Well, you're late.

[ it's all she can say. it's all she knows how to say, because everything else has just left her mind. she'd known that seeing him would be hard, but she hadn't anticipated just how much the words would choke in her throat until the moment had come. ]

[patriotical]

[ for steve - the torch is fresher. the 1940s feel like months in the past instead of years and the memories of her -- her smile, the way she walked while wearing the red dress, the softer way she'd say the word - steve - they're vivid and cemented into his memory.

steve's always been stubborn fond of split decisions and prone to his impulses. he's always been a man who wore his heart out on his sleeve and followed it. he doesn't think to call and it's only when she doesn't open the door - that he comes to the conclusion she may not want to see him. there's a distinct possibility that she has a life - an arrangement set up or another bloke. it doesn't even occur to steve because it only dawns on him then how big the gravity of 70 years is. ]

I got a little frozen in a moment.

[ he doesn't ask if she's gonna open the door, just stays still with the flowers in his hand. he wishes he were the one waiting instead. ]

Is it still too late to collect on that dance?

[solidrighthook]

[ she almost wants to laugh at the comment, frozen in the moment, as if she should have expected anything else from him. he's exactly the way that she remembers him. seventy years on and yet here they both stand, like no time had passed at all.

she closes the door before she answers, and time practically slows as she takes a few seconds to decide whether or not she's going to unlatch it, open it and let him in. it's bigger than just passing through a doorway after all, it's not just walking in, it's letting him back into her life again.

(although, arguably, he's never really left)

see there has been other guys. of course there has, it's been a long time and she's not the type of woman to devote her life to a ghost of a man. except intentionally or not, she has anyway. nothing has ever stuck, settled and become long term. she's never married, never had kids, and it's not just once that the 'third man in their relationship' was the reason for a break-up. it's steve, her steve and he'll always be there with her to some degree.

it's just that now it's much more physical than the years of idle thoughts and pouring over a long inactive file.

she opens it though, she slides the latch off and steps back to open the door properly, and she still doesn't answer his question just yet. instead she just looks at him, scrutinises every detail, and then finally the barest hints of a smile touch the corners of her lips. she nods her head inside, a silent invitation to come in, and folds her arms over her chest. ]

I haven't quite decided yet. That's an awful long time for a rain check, Rogers.