open » i've got an atlas in my hands

[mucked]

Who: Peggy Carter + YOU
Where: Library, Rabbit Hole Diner, and other locations.
When: Early Feb
Rating: PG-13; will warn for changes in individual threads.
Summary: A catch-all for the first half of the month. There are some open prompts under the cut, but I'm also posting some closed starters in the comments. Hit me up if you'd like something other than the options below.
The Story:
[ DURING february's first few days, peggy pays a few productive visits to the »LIBRARY. she arrives armed with a scrap pressed into her palm. the paper is thin and torn, jagged, from a puzzle book -- folded in threes with precision and hard corners forced onto its asymmetrical shape. while she walks from stack to stack she traces the list's edge with the pad of her thumb. in reality, she doesn't need it. she'd long-since memorizes the book titles recommended to her in order to bring her loosely up to speed with popular science. so the list is a flimsy talisman, maybe, but during these visits it represents purpose. forward momentum.

her reading list is accumulated over multiple days, as though some reflexive defense mechanism convinces peggy to take her time. patience is rarely her strongest suit but she nevertheless makes an effort, knowing that a rush will only leave her rudderless and once again without distraction. to that end, she allows herself to wander off-path. maybe she's come for non-fiction, but she detours through a shelf of thrillers and mysteries and adventure stories.

she touches the spines as she passes them by -- her little list peeking between her knuckles like an ace at the ready. peggy never intends to appear lost but catch her at an odd moment and she might want some help. after all, stark never gave her author names to go with the titles.

LATER, with her coursework assembled, she goes elsewhere to conduct her reading. a great deal of it happens behind her bedroom door as she readjusts to a solitary life now that jane has returned to her husband. but some of it happens at the »DINER. with a whole booth claimed for herself, she sits with the dust jacket removed so bystanders can't easily discern what she's reading stephen hawking's a brief history of time, incidentally. it takes some two or three chapters to really dig into work she couldn't already recognize in passing -- and, on occasion, she offers up an audible scoff when she finds herself confronted with a colourful explanation of scientific discovery which nevertheless somehow manages to neglect howard stark's contribution.

she orders a plate of chips (hot; crispy; salted) and implores the wait-staff to keep them coming. instead of tea, she asks for a milkshake. not a quarter of an hour passes before she's cracked open a journal and uncapped a pen. her annotations are, for the time being, made in pitman shorthand -- and so appear as a series of near shapeless scribbles to those who aren't fluent. even so, there's no secrecy behind that choice. merely a swell of impatience after she'd worked so hard to contain it earlier.

and yet peggy's not averse to interruptions. not exactly. she may not be the most welcoming conversation partner, nor is she particularly fond of idle chatter, but she doesn't chase off interruptions or inquiries.

OTHERWISE, known associates and strangers alike are free to run into her »OUT & ABOUT. whether she's 'commuting' from quarters to library or grabbing a quick breakfast in the dining room early in the morning. she doesn't have a precise schedule (on most days) but she's not impossible to chance upon. she's nearly always immaculate -- from heel to hair-pins. having a project in hand puts her in a better mood. ]

Comments

[startingpoint]

[ Kurt's room in Wonderland is much more decorated than his own back home, largely thanks to his sister, who refused to let him live in a room that wasn't decked out and cozy. In her perception of cozy, anyway. It's comfortable and it works for him, and once Jane had moved in, they'd added their own touches to really make it their own. Peggy's room starkly contrasts with his own in that regard, but it's somewhat like his apartment back in New York City. Or at least, the way it was when he'd still been single. He tends to like organization, needing structure and needing to have everything in its rightful place. They have that in common, at least.

The holster hanging from the peg is noted as well, and it's just something to file away for now. There's so much more to uncover and know about her; how much of a glimpse she'll allow into her life remains to be seen, and Kurt is a private enough person himself to understand. They're also on tenuous ground with each other so he wouldn't expect much in the way of her divulging details of her life, but he remains curious nonetheless. ]

It looks good in here. [ He thinks Jane could make anyone like anything, honestly.

When the seat is offered, Kurt nods and rests next to her on the couch, folding his hands together. ]

I know there are things you probably wanna ask me. I may not like the questions. [ Just being honest. ] But I'll answer them.

[ When he made the choice to come here, he was all in. Whether she wants to ask him anything or not is her choice, but the onus was on him to open the door, at least, and he has now. ]

[mucked]

[ she nods -- chilly, still, but nevertheless capable of appreciating his honesty. there is a great deal she can appreciate about kurt weller without actually liking him. the same can be said about a great many people, in peggy's experience. is it any wonder that now and again she might worry that she's the problematic element? ]

How obliging of you. [ she takes her seat stiffly -- legs crossed at the ankle and her hands folded in her lap. ] Of course, I'd understand it if you grew considerably less obliging if I started asking you about whether, indeed, there aren't any other painful little secrets waiting in the wings.

[ but that's just it, isn't it? peggy talks about asking the question but then doesn't actually ask it. not least of all because she can't trust whether she'd get a satisfactory answer. it's enough, for now, to explain to him where her concern lies: any and all further curve balls that could be haunting either of them. ]

But for now I'll settle for you explaining the rational behind your choice. [ ... ] Why didn't you tell her, Mister Weller?

[ all she knows about kurt's motives have come filtered through both sarah and jane. and maybe those reports were accurate enough, but peggy needs to hear it from him. ]

[startingpoint]

[ From what little Kurt knows of Peggy, he has a great deal of respect for her. She seems like a good person, and he likes her. Knowing that she probably dislikes him to an intense degree doesn't diminish his regard for her in any capacity. Of course, his regard for her also doesn't mean that he has any delusions about them ever being able to do more than tolerate one another. That's fine, he's earned that. She's giving him the chance to speak, that's more than he would have expected or deserves, he knows.

She's so careful and precise with the image she portrays, the person she allows everyone to see. He wonders how different this Peggy is from the Peggy his wife sees. He'll never know that, either.

When the question is asked, Kurt keeps himself from responding right away. He knows why he kept it from her, it's a thought that's haunted him for so long, he could dispense with this rationale in his sleep. But he pauses, not wanting to seem defensive by jumping into an explanation immediately. ]

She's never had anything good in her life for very long. It's been that way her whole life. Nothing good has ever lasted for her.

[ He realizes, of course, that he can't exclude their marriage in saying that, so...he's saying it. ]

When I found her daughter, I knew...if Jane never mentioned her, she didn't remember her. Her brother had never mentioned her. That little girl - she must have been taken from her when she was so young, probably when she was a baby. And I know Jane never would have let her go willingly. Her mother stole her from her, the way she's stolen her whole life from her. [ It's nearly impossible for him to keep the emotion out of his voice and expression, his jaw tensing. ] I know it's easy to assume I lied to her to protect myself, but I was trying to protect her. There's so much I couldn't protect her from, so much damage has been done, but this...this, I could do.

[ There's also one insecurity that was wrapped up in that lie, that if he told Jane the truth, she'd leave him. And she had anyway. ]

[mucked]

[ there are the obvious replies, retorts, refusals: explaining how he very well might have turned himself into the latest thief plundering away the pieces and crumbs of jane's life just by virtue of withholding those same pieces and those same crumbs. but peggy only had to take one look at him outside her door to realize that's already crossed his mind.

he came here contrite and grateful. as much as she might like to rub coarse salt into kurt's wounds, peggy takes a deep breath instead. because there is that word again. protect. it feels more like a loaded gun, today, than it ever did. and if peggy's patience survives this encounter, then they can all thank sarah weller for her particularly effective character reference on her brother's behalf. ]

Terribly cliché, I know, but there's a wide difference between could do and should do. [ but then she's verging once more on the beginnings of a lecture. peggy presses her red lips together with a mild, displeased hum.

her expression softens, but it's not for kurt's sake. ] Does it happen all over again back home, Mister Weller? The lie, the omission, the feeling of betrayal? In effect, is what happened just before New Year's merely a kind of grotesque rehearsal to the real thing?

[ as if her heart doesn't already ache too too much for jane. ]

[startingpoint]

[ In the last two months, he's thought all the worst possible things about himself, at one point even fearing he'd become no better than the monster he once called his father. He's thought about his actions, his choices, and disparaged himself to such an extent it's a true wonder he has any self-esteem left. He was supposed to be that good thing in Jane's life that she could count on to always be good, to always make her happy. Perhaps he'd set himself up for failure from the start. Is it realistic? Is it realistic to think he can protect everyone he loves all of the time, either?

He knows the answer to both.

When he came here, he was fully prepared to be taken to task and lectured at severely, so by his standards, she's maintained a lot of composure so far. ]

You're right.

[ He'll give her that, but he won't elaborate. There's a lot he could say about that point, about how he's made quite a few mistakes thinking he could do something but not considering whether he really should. Wanting to protect someone but making decisions for them, something he had no right to do, and he knows it. That's a long struggle, something he's just now recognizing in himself, but it will just take time to change his thought trajectory. ]

It'll happen again, all over. Maybe worse than it was here. I don't get the chance to learn from it before I go back, but I guess I don't deserve it.

[mucked]

[ on this beat, at least, she can be sympathetic. there are a wealth of mistakes awaiting her back home. the ones she's just made within hours of arriving in wonderland and the countless others that will follow on a whole career that -- from the sounds of it -- might as well be built on errors in judgement. a whole intelligence agency will crumble, peggy believes, because of her lack of foresight.

good men and women will die because she left work unfinished at the end of the war. she took for granted, perhaps, that hydra had been stamped out. just like she took for granted that sergeant barnes had died. that steve rogers was well and truly lost. and look where those assumptions bring her: sitting across from a man so wracked with regret that peggy quite fancies she can see her own reflection in his eyes.

it's not a proud moment. still, she doesn't crack. ]

Actually, I disagree with you there. Most of us deserve the chance to do better. If for no other reason then it might bring comfort and restitution to the people we've disappointed the first time around. [ earnest, but with no keyhole left open to reveal why she so easily positions herself under that umbrella. her expression remains stern -- as schoolmarmish as ever. ]

Although the thought remains purely academic. Like you said -- we aren't afforded that opportunity here.

[startingpoint]

[ It's a magnanimous sentiment from her, and it strikes a chord. Is it purely for his benefit? He has no reason to think otherwise, of course, but it's a slight softening that he'll take. There's no room for disagreement, really, because she makes a good point. ]

Fair point. I don't get that chance back home, I can't stop myself from making the same mistake. There's nothing I can change about what I did here, either, but she's given me another chance to do better and I will.

[ On his life and his honor, he will. ]

[mucked]

[ silence. not a long one, really, but certainly long enough. it pulls through the handful of seconds after kurt's emphatic words. and, when it's done, she nods. ]

I sincerely hope so.

[ maybe circumstances have made it so that she starts out disliking the man now sitting on her sofa, but disliking him doesn't mean she's at all eager to see him fail. if anything, she's motivated to see him do very opposite: his success cements jane's happiness, and recently she's realized that's one thing among many that she very much wants.

peggy's never had many friends. fewer, still, with whom she can trust the more confidential aspects of her life. in that respect, jane has rapidly become precious to her. ]

For what it's worth, [ and she doubts it's worth much -- indeed she suspects it'll only hurt more to hear it, ] I doubt Jane would have felt half as devastated by it all if you hadn't already proved yourself stalwart and steady. I'm hardly your biggest fan but you hardly need me to tell you that. Point is, I'm not so hard-headed as to assume you're some through-and-through villain.

Still. [ her cheeks puff. ] At the risk of sounding all the more cliché, I've broken noses over less. Let's see to it that I don't come looking to take a swipe at yours.

[ a little bit of posturing. surely, she can be allowed that much -- if only because she's lived a life where it became a necessary mechanism against the doubter and underminers of the world. ]

[startingpoint]

[ It does sting to hear it, to know he couldn't have ever hurt Jane to the depth that he had if she didn't love and trust him so much. He'd cultivated that trust so carefully, both of them drawn together despite impossible odds and bizarre circumstances. Their lives had been mapped out for them, and in some ways, perhaps, it was almost inevitable that their paths would cross, yet the connection they had - immediate and intense - had never been a given. That was simply the two of them, finding commonalities, finding the good in each other despite both of them often believing the worst about themselves. They'd gone through so much to get where they were, to simply loving each other, and he had fucked it up, nearly permanently.

No. He won't be letting that happen ever again. ]

I may not be a hero but I don't think I'd make a great villain, either.

[ He can't even bring himself to kill the bad guys face to face much of the time. In the heat of a moment, when he has mere seconds to react, it's different. But given the choice, he'd rather bring someone in for due process. ]

I'm glad she has a friend like you looking out for her. But you're never gonna need to break my nose. I promise.