Bygone

Darcy wakes a few hours later and brushes her teeth before searching out Howard. She finds him in the study with JJ, a vein bulging in his head.

“Why do you think that car can fit in that garage?” Howard asks, clinging to his glass of scotch.

“Because.” JJ answers simply, not looking up from his toys, and Howard twitches.

“Who wants to go on a walk?”

“Oh thank god.” Howard says at the same time that JJ leaps out of his seat proclaiming, “Me, me, me!”

JJ is exuberant on the walk. He darts around, bringing Darcy back pine cones, rocks, and brightly colored fall leaves. Darcy keeps only her very favorite of each, but towards the end of the walk when she drops a golden yellow leaf in exchange for a bright red one, JJ stares down at the abandoned leaf before picking it back up.

“For mama.” He says, holding it to his chest.

When they circle back to the house, John is there leaning against the hood of his car smoking a cigarette.

“Daddy!” JJ takes off across the yard. Darcy follows cradling their treasures.

Darcy slows, studying John from a distance. He’s wearing dark slacks, a suit jacket with the tie undone, and has a briefcase at his feet. At this moment, admiring JJ’s yellow leaf, he looks like the stereotypical 50s father.

Then he turns to look back at her, putting his hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun. He sets JJ on his feet and takes off at a jog towards Darcy.

“I think I might have wished you into existence.” He says when he reaches her, wrapping her in a tight hug and lifting her off her feet. “Did you talk-“

“We did.”

He nods, shadows in his eyes. “She takes it so hard. So do I, but Becca...”

Darcy nods that she understands.

He catches her chin in his hand and tips her face up. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”

The pet name steals her breath, and John grimaces as he pulls her into another hug. She sits out on the patio with John while he smokes and JJ eats an early dinner.

“I surprised her with a trip. I thought we could leave JJ with one of my sisters, and she could accompany me to the Paris fashion show. I booked everything.” John motions with his cigarette.

“That sounds nice.” Darcy says cautiously, because his tone leads her to believe it hadn’t been received well.

“She hates to hear about people treating the Japs poorly in the neighborhood, but apparently she holds a grudge against the entire country of France. Refuses to so much as set a toe in it.” He exhales a large cloud of smoke. “That’s where-“

“I know.” Darcy cuts him off, not wanting to hear it out loud. Bucky had fallen from the train in occupied France. In his quest to document everything Captain America, Howard had commissioned photographs of the icy ravine.

“Then I thought Hawaii, but Pearl Harbor.” He holds out his hands.

Bucky had enlisted after Pearl Harbor had been bombed.

“I can stand Hawaii.” Rebecca says from behind them. She smiles when John looks at her over his shoulder. “If I have to.”

John holds out an arm for her, and Rebecca comes to sit in his lap. A few minutes later they take JJ up for bed. Rebecca and Darcy change together for the party, doing up each other’s buttons like they were back in their shared bedroom.

Rebecca does Darcy’s hair, running the brush through it until it’s soft and shiny, then pinning it up expertly. John knocks lightly on the door and lets himself in.

“He wants you.” He says softly.

Rebecca smiles and gives Darcy’s hair one last pat before going to see to JJ. John holds out a hand to help her from her seat, then leads her in a twirl, looking her up and down critically.

After those weeks spent with them when JJ was a baby, Darcy is long used to these moments.

“I knew you’d be a knockout in this get up.” He pinches the fabric of her dress at the shoulder and gives it a small tug, smooths down the back, and adjusts the waist.

It doesn’t take Rebecca long to regain her earlier level of drunkeness, and John catches up to her. John takes them both to the dance floor several times before the couple finds a seat and end up cuddled together, faces close as they talk.

Darcy dances with Howard once, earning herself laser eyes from a blonde in a slinky green dress. One of Howard’s friends asks her for a dance, then one more. The music turns slow and Darcy feels awkward being held close to the man.

“Sorry Georgie, I’m afraid I have to interrupt.” Howard says, and George steps back.

Darcy takes Howard’s arm and he leads her from the center of the room, out from the middle of the swaying couples. She turns to thank him, then stops at the gleam of mad scientist in his eyes.

“Big doings, kid. We’ve just got to get this down!”

And so she is whisked downstairs to the lab.

They work for a solid hour, and it’s good work. Then he starts flipping through his papers, cursing under his breath, and tipping back the drinks.

“How did I know I would find you here?” A cool British accent inquires, echoing slightly in the cavernous place.

“I know... If I could just, I know I could...” Howard mutters.

“Howard.” Darcy says, turning to face Peggy Carter. She’s immaculate. Not a hair out of place, her red lipstick perfect, and her white sheath dress fitting like a glove.

“What?” Howard looks up, ready for an insight. “Peg! You’re early!”

“No,” Peggy crooks a brow, “I’m not.”

Howard looks between them. “I promised myself I’d have alcohol on hand for you for this. And I do.”

“I’m quite alright, Howard.”

“I could use a drink.” Darcy says at the same time.

Howard pours three fingers of whiskey into a beaker and hands it to Darcy. “Darcy, this is Peggy Carter. Pal, this is Darcy Rogers.”

“I think we can take it from here, Howard. Shouldn’t you check on your date?”

“Melinda!” Howard grins rakishly. He stops at the door to look between the two women. “Can I just say-“

“No!” Peggy and Darcy say at the same time.

“You trust him enough to drink out of that?” Peggy nods towards the beaker.

“Howard is meticulous.” Darcy replies, taking a sip of her whiskey. She walks around the table, hiding that she takes a good sized gulp. She turns to face Peggy, who stands cool, calm and collected.

She takes another drink, not caring what it looks like, and the center of her chest warms. She needs it. “I’m sorry. I’m not equipped for this.”

“I don’t think anyone is. Appearing and disappearing against your will.” Peggy says, and Darcy thinks a little bit of her armor comes down.

It’s just that Peggy is, hell, she’s Peggy Carter. The original director of SHIELD. One of the feminist icons of the twenty-first century.

Right now, she’s on break from running the world’s premiere spy network and peace keeping agency. She’s thirty-six years old and is so self-assured she wears it like a second skin.

Darcy is twenty-four by her best count, still a credit short of her college degree, still broken to pieces over the loss of Steve, and stumbling through time. Peggy stands strong, and Darcy’s walking on tilted floors in rooms with spinning walls.

At first, she’d almost convinced herself that it all made perfect sense. Darcy had Steve and dark movie theaters and hand drawn irises. Peggy got Captain America, leading the commandos across Europe, saving the day. Except it was Steve’s smile in those reels, and her Steve had saved the day too, damn it.

With a nod, Darcy starts talking. “When I first disappeared, it was the last time Steve would see me. I was as good as dead to him.”

Peggy opens her mouth, but Darcy shakes her head firmly. She needs to get this out, or she’ll lose her courage.

“It- I can’t -“ Darcy swallows and wipes under her eyes, angry that she’s crying in front of Peggy Carter. “I cannot tell you how grateful I am that he had someone who c-cared about him through everything. The serum, Bucky, and the- the end.”

Darcy holds up her hand. “Howard told me you cared for him before the serum. That you were there that day and yelled for them to stop. You saw him. Like I did.”

“Steve Rogers was the best man that I ever met.” Peggy says. “He broke my heart when he put that plane down. But I’m married now. I have two children. And I can look back and say with certainty that Steve was my dear, dear friend who had so much potential to become more.”

“I don’t like talking about the plane.” Darcy confesses, tossing back the rest of her drink. “But I swore that when I met you, I would thank you. Or if you won’t take it, thank the universe. That there was a voice at the other end of the radio when he was alone, when he didn’t have Bucky. And you talked to him about dancing and nice things until the end.”

“Mrs. Rogers, y-“

“Darcy.”

“Darcy.” Peggy opens her clutch and pulls out a kerchief, dabbing under her eyes. “You are everything I have thought you should be, since Howard told me of your existence. Now, I believe I will have a drink. Which one of these is clean, do you know?”