Chapter 3
“Seriously, what in the world do you people do without television?”
Peggy barely deigned to glance at Lang as he slumped all over her settee, flipping through her book on lock picking. “I assume by television you mean the glass screen with moving pictures that Howard keeps telling me will revolutionize communications.”
“He’s not wrong. It does.” Lang set the book aside, either bored with it or finding it of little use. “I grew up on television, it’s how we all get our news and information.”
“I can’t see how staring at a glass tube for hours is good for you.” She glanced through the jumble of words on the page before her, hoping to God it made sense. Howard would understand, wouldn’t he? If anyone would get the weird, strange, fantastic situation Peggy had landed in that night, he would be it. Between HYDRA, Leviathan, and Whitney Frost, there had been enough strangeness for Howard to hopefully be open to the idea of time travel on top of it.
Her guest threw himself up to wander around her small, if comfortable, apartment, picking up knick-knacks and various odds and ends that cluttered the space, most of which had come with the flat when she rented it months before. “I’m not kidding, what did you people do for fun?”
“They had entertainment for much of human history before moving pictures became a thing.” She hadn’t mentioned Steve exactly in the letter, fearing that if she did, he’d try to find him well before she could be there. That left the question of what she could mention to even explain any of this. Should she mention to Howard the fact that he had a son or that she was going to help him try not to leave the world in shambles? Perhaps she shouldn’t. She didn’t want to create expectations in Howard or lay pressure on the future, Tony. That sort of heavy burden was unfair, and he deserved to grow up as carefree as any other child. She had a feeling being Howard’s son would be difficult enough.
In the distant corner, Lang flicked on the radio, momentarily fascinated with the console as he twisted through channels. “My grandparents had one of these as a kid! Still worked, too. I used to listen to my college alt-rock on it when I was in my deep and moody music phase.”
She had no idea what any of that meant but assumed it had to do with whatever popular music was a part of his time. “I’m putting the finishing touches on this note. Anything you feel I should leave in for Howard at all?”
“I still say writing letters to people is a bad idea. We don’t want to give too much of the future away.” Lang looked troubled as he landed in a station playing dance music from one of the local ballrooms for the New Year's festivities.
“I’m already traveling in time, that will upset it all enough.”
“I know, just we don’t know how much any of it will affect future outcomes, good or bad.” He shrugged as he flicked the radio off again. “I’d maybe tell him that he should teach his kid not to be an arrogant asshole, but you know, that could be a Stark family trait.”
Peggy only smiled. “I’m afraid he comes by that honestly, knowing Howard.”
“I can’t say I knew the guy, just heard stories of him from Hank, none of them good. But, in fairness, Hank isn’t a picnic either, and I like him. Something about genius and hubris, I guess.”
Peggy regarded the letter one last time. How did one pack so much to say into so few words? “I feel like I should warn him about what is coming.”
“You could, but I don’t know what anyone could do to stop it.”
“Seventy years is a long time to think of something.”
“What? Some ray gun to zap into space?” Lang snorted, leaning against her writing table. “Stark thinks that protection means creating bigger guns and ensuring we are the only ones who own them, which is fine in theory, but these things have a tendency of getting out of hand rather quickly. Just look at the situation you are in now with Russia, with each side making bigger and scarier bombs. One false move and everything goes to hell and people die because of it.”
That thought had been discussed extensively of late in the halls of power, including SHIELD. A small sliver of fear slid through Peggy’s heart. “Has that happened in your future?”
“Not precisely.” Something grim rose to the fore in Lang’s expression. “It almost happened once, but someone managed to stop it before anyone died. After that, all sides agreed to stop stockpiling weapons, and that was that.”
Still, the idea of saying nothing to Howard did not sit well with her. “You want me to help a future calamity, correct? What if I could lay the groundwork here to at least start that?”
Lang still didn’t look convinced. “All I can say is I’m taking a huge gamble doing this, and I’m not sure that’s going to work.”
It was the first time since she’d agreed to this madcap scheme that she realized what a gamble this was. She was playing at something that in all likelihood may not work. It was a long shot in every conceivable way. It wasn’t the first long shot she’d been in, though, and if there was one thing she had faith in, it was in her instincts about people around her.
“I trust Howard with this at least, and I don’t trust him with much. You said we need every advantage, and I’m giving us one.”
Lang quickly gathered she wasn’t going to back down from this. “All right, but just word it in such a way that we don’t find some sort of apocalypse when we land.”
“I can promise nothing where Howard is concerned.” It was a true enough fact, She was long used to tempering Howard and some of his more impulsive actions. His act-first, question-later attitude was dangerous when faced with difficult diplomacy, and for a moment, she worried about leaving him behind to man all this by himself. She had to pray Phillips or Mr. Jarvis would be a voice of reason to him when his impulses said otherwise.
Before she could think twice on the matter, she scratched the last lines of her letter, her pen flying across the page.
I don’t know what I will find when I get there, and I hope that you’ve not left a mess for me to clean up. I’m not even sure who I will find on my arrival or if you will even be alive. I know this; something is coming in the future, something that threatens the survival of everything. I’m needed. I know that SHIELD still exists even then, or at least I hope it survives, and perhaps I can turn to them for help. I only ask that you be smart, think through your decisions, and consider what you leave behind, not only with SHIELD and your company but with your family as well. That is a legacy that will see us through, I hope.
This is all mad, I know, but I am certain what I am doing is right, and I’m making this insane journey with the full knowledge of what I’m leaving. For all our many differences over the last decade, know I’ve always considered you the dearest of friends. Despite it all, I think I will miss you the most. Please take care, Howard. One day, you will settle down. Appreciate every minute with the family you have, and remember me fondly to them. I hope I get to meet them.
Give all my love to Edwin and Ana, and know I will cherish them and their friendship always.
Yours,
Peggy
She refused to give in to the tears that now lined her lashes and instead quickly folded the letter, stuffing it into the envelope she had at hand, sealing and addressing it. She was never one to give into a lot of deep sentiment, but her loss was already beginning to ache. She neatly stacked it, placing it with the letters to her parents and Michael in London, to Chester Phillips in Washington, to Angie in Los Angeles on a film project, to Edwin and Ana, and to Daniel last of all. All the people she cared for in her life, all the ones that mattered. She was leaving them all behind to go on this mad quest and parting with a few hastily scrawled words in some letters. She prayed that they would understand.
“Right, then, I’ll drop these in the post.” She sniffed loudly, pretending that her throat wasn’t already clogged with tears as she stepped outside long enough to go to the mail slot at the end of the hall. She would miss this flat, the first adult one she had since leaving her parents ten years before, the first she could afford on her SHIELD salary. She was walking away from a lot: her entire world, the position she fought for, the agency she had built, her life in New York City. She couldn’t lie and say it didn’t ache painfully knowing what she was doing.
But she would be saving the world...and Steve…
Back inside, she found Lang wandering her kitchen, picking through her meager pantry with childlike fascination. “Seriously, your cabinet is a total throwback. Look at the artwork on this!” He held up a package of cereal she'd forgotten she even had.
“It is 1948, what do you expect?” She sniffed, imagining in his world everyone had Howard’s flying car and things were made of chrome and steel.
“It’s 1949 now. You took so long writing letters the year changed.”
“I am leaving something behind for my friends before I go on this mad quest.” She couldn’t help but be snappish about it as she reached into the fruit bowl to snag the apples she had there and put them in a paper bag. “I don’t suppose you know when exactly we will be going?”
Lang had wandered now to the icebox, staring in fascination. “Seriously, this looks like a Looney Tunes cartoon in here.”
She glared at the back of his head and pushed the door shut, nearly on him.
“All right. I know they thawed Cap out in 2012, right before the big alien invasion. I’m hoping we hit right before there.”
“Alien invasion?”
“Yeah, apparently they like us, or they like invading us. Anyway, I’m thinking maybe January of 2012, just to be on the safe side.”
What was this strange world she was walking into? Taking her bag of apples, she wandered back to her bedroom. “I’ll change and pack up and then we can go.”
She had already made her mental list of what to take. How did one pack a lifetime’s worth of things in a few moments? Not that she had much. She had started in America with very little, just the things she had sent over to her during the war, and her life had been so mobile since she hadn’t had time to gather the detritus of living. There were smaller things; photos, journals, her grandmother’s jewelry, letters tied neatly together in a bundle, the novel she was only a quarter of the way through. These things she gathered with quiet efficiency, pulling them onto her tidy bed as she snagged her old, Army-issued rucksack from the back of her closet. She packed the precious items in there carefully, sandwiched between clothing, makeup, and toiletries, the sort of other things she grabbed whenever she was out in the field. This was a mission, like any other, she told herself as she tucked in extra ammunition for her weapon, which was also carefully packed and wrapped up in a nightgown by her favorite pumps.
She changed into far more practical clothes for this type of excursion, sturdy trousers, a sweater, and serviceable boots, mentally going through any last items she may want to bring with her. Her eyes gazed around the room, stopping at one photograph she kept tucked away on her vanity. Her fingers brushed against it as she studied it with an aching heart. A photo of Steve from Camp Lehigh, before the serum, or Captain America, or any of it. She never knew what day it had been snapped, it could have been any. He stood squinting and out of breath, eyes focused on something in the distance, determination set in every line of his shoulders and face. She carefully slid it into her pack, inside of her partially read book. She packed the apples on top of all of this and cinched the whole thing tightly with the sort of resolve she had before heading out into the field.
Lang was waiting outside, this time his nose in the day’s paper. “Seriously, though, the Communists are not the big threat everyone seemed to assume them to be.”
“Says someone who came out on the other side of history from this.” She snagged the apples she had packed earlier, opening her rucksack enough to fit them in. “I think I’ve packed for the end of the world. Are you ready?”
He beamed as he pulled out a watch-like device similar to the one wrapped around his hand. “Put this on?”
Peggy took it with ginger fingers. It was so light for all the power it had, really just metal, glass, and plastic. It looked so foreign as to be from outer space, but she slipped it on as he asked. “Now what?”
“You push this button here….”
His gloved fingers pressed against a large button to the side of the device. It beeped, slightly. For half of a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then something like tiny, silver bugs began to come pouring out, climbing all over Peggy’s hand, wrapping around it before her horrified eyes. They climbed up her arm and down her torso, leaving behind a sort of suit that swathed her in white. Before she could even swat a hand in terrified protest, Lang was jumping in to reassure her. “It’s nanotechnology, don’t worry. It’s one of Stark’s new, fun creations.”
She stared at it, plucking at the durable fabric as it pulled like any other would. “How does it do that?”
“Tiny robots. Sounds weird, but when you can shrink down to the size of nothing, not as weird as you would think. Now, these will keep you safe in the quantum realm as you move between times.”
“All right.” This she could live with. She fingered the outfit, the fabric sturdy and rough under her fingers. “Just how dangerous is this?”
Lang at least was honest here. “It could be very dangerous.”
Up went her chin at that response. “Well, Mr. Lang, if you know anything of my history, you know danger isn’t exactly something I shy away from.”
“I know, that’s why I came and found you. Well, that and because you have a way of getting people’s heads out of their asses.” He reached into a pocket on the side of his belt from which he pulled out a small vial of red liquid. “Pym particles to get this all going.”
“What is that?” She watched as he reached for a spot on the belt of her outfit, snapping it in.
“Something that Hank created that allows me to shrink or grow. This is enough to get you to the right year.”
“And how do I get there?”
“Leave that to me.” He reached for her hand and the wrist device. “Why he made the dial so tiny on these things is beyond me. How is one supposed to see this?”
She frowned at the side of his head as he squinted down at it in the dim light of her apartment. “Do you want me to do it?”
“No, I got it...I think.” He squinted even harder but seemed to be satisfied. “Right, so when I say go, you hit the big white button here and then zap, you’re gone!”
The idea of it made Peggy’s already nervous stomach lurch with anxiety. “And you will be there as well?”
“Yeah! Well, at least long enough to make sure that you are okay.”
“And then what?” Their lack of a definitive plan was just now hitting her, as were her doubts.
“Well...then we get you settled...I guess. I mean, SHIELD is still there.”
“Is this your great plan, drop me off in a different century and make me someone else’s problem?”
Lang shook his head. “No...just..okay, maybe a little bit, but you know, you made it through a war and fought Nazis and HYDRA! I mean New York is New York? How hard could it be?”
“You were just astonished the pie was a quarter. I have no money, no references.”
“Relax, I won’t just dump you off! I’ll make sure we got you someplace safe. Then we will contact SHIELD and explain what we did!”
She glared doubtfully up at him. “And SHIELD will listen to you?”
“Maybe...probably...hopefully.”
“Mr. Lang…”
“Relax, we got this! Now, you all packed and ready to go?” He grabbed her rucksack to help her slip into it as they cinched and tightened the straps to secure it to her body.
Peggy wasn't convinced this wouldn't end in disaster. “If I end up locked in Bellevue because of you…”
“I don’t even know what that means, but I can assure you that you won’t. Helmet up!”
He clicked another button on her wrist, a helmet skittering over her head, much like the suit had over her clothes. Peggy was too startled to protest, jumping as she clutched her rucksack with her free hand. Through the clear material of the front, she could see Lang do the same. Through some sort of radio device inside she heard him.
“When I say go, you hit the large button.” He pointed to it on his device and she nodded, finding it on her own.
“Okay! In 5...4...3...2...1…”
Her gloved finger punched the button. Then the world turned upside down.
Perhaps upside down wasn’t the word...more like it grew and stretched, faster than the moment between breaths. Everything drew itself out into long streaks of light, a tunnel of brightness, as she felt herself sink further and further into it. Somewhere ahead of her...or was it beside her...she could see Lang’s form, shooting through the light.
Until they came to a fork in the glowing tunnel...and Lang shot off to one side and she another.
Was that supposed to happen?
Reality shrank, her body seemed to rise as she felt herself slow down...or was it stand up, she couldn’t be sure...appearing so suddenly it took her breath away. Dizzy and disoriented she felt her knees buckle as she fell onto frozen dirt and rock, gasping as she searched for the button on her wrist device that lowered the helmet back down again. Blessedly it disappeared, the nano-whatever crawling back wherever it came from as she gulped the cold air, resisting the urge to get sick right where she sat.
Where the hell had she landed? When the hell had she landed?
It was day, she guessed...dawn, just after sunrise. It was cold, likely January. She was in an empty lot, surrounded by a chain link fence, and tall buildings - some of them recognizable - ringing the space. It took her long moments before it hit her that she had landed in the space where once upon a time her cozy apartment had existed. It was no longer there.
Her home, and indeed her entire world, was gone.