“His Part to Play” - 5. Ghost
Apr. 5th, 2020 09:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
breakinglight11Forever Captain:
“His Part to Play”
By Phoebe Roberts
~~~
Summary: “Steve Rogers has retired to the 1940s to build a new life with Peggy. In leaving behind the mantle of Captain America, at last he’s got a measure of peace. Still, Steve will never stop feeling the responsibility to step up as a hero— except he's not sure how much power his actions have at this point in the timeline. Somehow he must reconcile his new life and identity with the responsibility and burden of being a hero out of time.”
Previous chapters:
1. Lost Time
2. Building
3. Reaching
4. Bonds
Chapter summary: Steve confronts a ghost from his former life who, in a way, has a presence here in his new one.
“His Part to Play”
By Phoebe Roberts
~~~
Summary: “Steve Rogers has retired to the 1940s to build a new life with Peggy. In leaving behind the mantle of Captain America, at last he’s got a measure of peace. Still, Steve will never stop feeling the responsibility to step up as a hero— except he's not sure how much power his actions have at this point in the timeline. Somehow he must reconcile his new life and identity with the responsibility and burden of being a hero out of time.”
Previous chapters:
1. Lost Time
2. Building
3. Reaching
4. Bonds
Chapter summary: Steve confronts a ghost from his former life who, in a way, has a presence here in his new one.
~~~
5. Ghost
They planned a simple ceremony, nothing elaborate, but Steve had wanted it to be in the church. They would have no attendants, but Howard, Angie, and the Jarvises would stand as witnesses on the altar. Stark used his connections to get him a dress uniform— “When I sent in your measurements, they thought I was pulling a prank!” —while Peggy forwent a gown in favor of a smart white suit.
“I went through the business with the great lace dress,” she told him, referring to her youthful engagement from before she’d found her path. “But this is more my way now. And I can dye it another color and wear it again, rather than turning the whole wardrobe into a mausoleum for it.”
“I still wish you’d wear that red dress. The one in the cantina, that was supposed to be for our first date.”
“You’re the one who wanted the church wedding,” she admonished. “You’d have to be the one to explain it to the pastor.”
“I’m already giving him a false name. We’d better not push our luck.”
It had not been her plan to introduce him to her colleagues. Her relationship with most of them had been contentious, and though she had proven herself with time and her exemplary service, she hadn’t wanted to expose Steve to anyone connected to the establishment. Even those she trusted could put him at risk of being recognized. But there were a few who had stuck their necks out for her, who mutually relied on her for support in the field. It wasn’t right, they decided, to keep such a huge part of herself from people who were supposed to trust her. And he knew that included Daniel Sousa, the man that in another timeline she’d go on to marry.
He’d been long dead by the time Steve had woken up, but Steve was keenly aware of his presence even then in Peggy’s life. He’d wondered a long time who that man was, what he was like, that he’d been the one she’d chosen. Steve hadn’t been sure if he wanted to meet him, but now that he was, he felt some strange sense of obligation, now that he stood where Daniel could not.
He arrived at the diner with Jack Thompson, the head of the SSR. He could tell they were a little leery of him, in that way men sometimes were at first when Captain America wasn’t in play. Even Peggy seemed on edge, putting forth a good operative’s front, but he knew she was concerned for more than just his safety.
“So this is the guy,” Thompson said, taking in all six feet and one inch of him. “The one that got Carter to settle down.”
“Chased her till she caught me,” he said easily, shaking their hands.
Sousa snorted a little, lips quirking. “I believe it. Good to meet the fella that managed that.”
“You sure he knows what he’s getting into?” Jack asked Peggy, tone light but expression keen.
“I doubt it,” she said dryly. “But he’s proven to be a brave man.”
“Then he won’t mind if we put him through his paces a little.”
Steve raised an eyebrow. “Beg your pardon?”
Peggy glared down her nose. “If you’re thinking of taking him out behind the alley, I can promise you, you won’t pass your own test.”
Jack held up his hands. “Hey, we’re not meatheads! Just wanted to check him out a little. Kick the tires, make sure he’s up to snuff. You know, for you, Carter.”
“Fair enough.” Steve tossed an easy salute. “Reporting for inspection, lieutenant.”
Angie chuckled as she came by to lay out the coffee cups on the table. “I’d tell you to go easy on him. But I don’t think he needs it.”
Sousa gave another half-smile. “We’ll be the judge of that.”
As they checked him out, Steve checked out Sousa. Daniel was a quiet guy, more reserved than Steve was expecting, slow to smile but with a sensibility and genuineness Steve found compelling. The conversation wasn’t heavy, beyond a few compared notes about the war. All of them had served in one capacity or another, and they all still carried it to greater or lesser degrees— none more than Sousa himself, whose wounds persisted to this day. It seemed fair game for Jack to rag him about it, but Steve would gently turn the conversation away. He’d had shin splints before his transformation, and had been no stranger to crutches, or to the comments people made. Sousa made no acknowledgement one way or the other, but Steve could feel the weight of his gaze on him, taking him in, sizing him up. Steve could hardly blame him, though he wasn’t sure how far his relationship with Peggy had progressed— he had not asked, and Peggy had not said. Steve simply remained deferential and unruffled, even in the face of some fairly pointed interrogation masked as friendly ribbing.
“Where’d you serve, Grant? Europe or Pacific?” “What kind of work you do, since you got out?” “Artist, huh? What kind?” “Where’s your family from?” “I get along with everybody, except the krauts. You don’t have any kraut in you, do you, Grant?” “Ah, right. I’m shanty too. Sorry ‘bout that, you just kind of have the look.” “Big fella, aren’t you? How’d you get so big?” “Okay, stupid question. Some guys are just lucky, I guess.” “How’d you meet Carter, anyway?” “You know she gets around, don’t you?” “Aw, Christ, I didn’t mean it like that. Just that she’s got business, knows her own mind. That don’t bother you, does it?”
Steve faced down the firing squad with aplomb, answering as honestly as he could without giving too much away. Even their more aggressive probing he allowed with a smile, knowing it stemmed from a protectiveness of Peggy. The strangest part was the moment he realized Sousa was in almost the same position he’d been, when he’d wondered a thousand things about Peggy’s late husband of forty-five years— where had he served, what had he done, where had he come from, that made him the man she wanted to spend her life with. The wave of empathy filled his chest to bursting, to remember that in another world, Daniel had fathered her son named in Steve’s honor, and Steve was the one left on the outside to wonder.
By the end of the evening, the exchange has grown less pointed and the laughter with more ease. Thompson seemed satisfied enough that his hackles lowered, enough that when clapped Steve’s back on his way out, it didn’t feel like a test of strength. As Peggy walked Jack out, Sousa held back a moment, arranging his crutch with deliberate care, waiting for Angie to clear away the cups. At last he he levered himself to his feet and extended his hand.
“Good to meet you, sir,” Steve said to him.
“It’s been an honor,” he answered. “Captain.”
There it was. A heartbeat went by as Steve modulated his reaction. He glanced up a little, brows knit, no more. “Sorry?”
But Sousa only shook his head, refusing to play. “I saw the way Carter smiles at you. How she looks when she talks about you. There’s only ever been one guy who made her look like that. There only ever could be one.”
Steve wasn’t going to try to bullshit him. “We didn’t want people to know.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not about to mess up anything she wants.” Steve braced himself for questions, but Daniel asked none. He just met Steve’s gaze squarely, expression hard. “Just… take care of her, will you?”
Steve gripped Daniel’s hand in his. “For the rest of my life.”
It was just a small moment, with a different version of the man who’d hung like a ghost in his previous life. But still, Steve felt like he’d come to an understanding he’d needed.
~~~
Next chapter: 6. Stag Night
5. Ghost
They planned a simple ceremony, nothing elaborate, but Steve had wanted it to be in the church. They would have no attendants, but Howard, Angie, and the Jarvises would stand as witnesses on the altar. Stark used his connections to get him a dress uniform— “When I sent in your measurements, they thought I was pulling a prank!” —while Peggy forwent a gown in favor of a smart white suit.
“I went through the business with the great lace dress,” she told him, referring to her youthful engagement from before she’d found her path. “But this is more my way now. And I can dye it another color and wear it again, rather than turning the whole wardrobe into a mausoleum for it.”
“I still wish you’d wear that red dress. The one in the cantina, that was supposed to be for our first date.”
“You’re the one who wanted the church wedding,” she admonished. “You’d have to be the one to explain it to the pastor.”
“I’m already giving him a false name. We’d better not push our luck.”
It had not been her plan to introduce him to her colleagues. Her relationship with most of them had been contentious, and though she had proven herself with time and her exemplary service, she hadn’t wanted to expose Steve to anyone connected to the establishment. Even those she trusted could put him at risk of being recognized. But there were a few who had stuck their necks out for her, who mutually relied on her for support in the field. It wasn’t right, they decided, to keep such a huge part of herself from people who were supposed to trust her. And he knew that included Daniel Sousa, the man that in another timeline she’d go on to marry.
He’d been long dead by the time Steve had woken up, but Steve was keenly aware of his presence even then in Peggy’s life. He’d wondered a long time who that man was, what he was like, that he’d been the one she’d chosen. Steve hadn’t been sure if he wanted to meet him, but now that he was, he felt some strange sense of obligation, now that he stood where Daniel could not.
He arrived at the diner with Jack Thompson, the head of the SSR. He could tell they were a little leery of him, in that way men sometimes were at first when Captain America wasn’t in play. Even Peggy seemed on edge, putting forth a good operative’s front, but he knew she was concerned for more than just his safety.
“So this is the guy,” Thompson said, taking in all six feet and one inch of him. “The one that got Carter to settle down.”
“Chased her till she caught me,” he said easily, shaking their hands.
Sousa snorted a little, lips quirking. “I believe it. Good to meet the fella that managed that.”
“You sure he knows what he’s getting into?” Jack asked Peggy, tone light but expression keen.
“I doubt it,” she said dryly. “But he’s proven to be a brave man.”
“Then he won’t mind if we put him through his paces a little.”
Steve raised an eyebrow. “Beg your pardon?”
Peggy glared down her nose. “If you’re thinking of taking him out behind the alley, I can promise you, you won’t pass your own test.”
Jack held up his hands. “Hey, we’re not meatheads! Just wanted to check him out a little. Kick the tires, make sure he’s up to snuff. You know, for you, Carter.”
“Fair enough.” Steve tossed an easy salute. “Reporting for inspection, lieutenant.”
Angie chuckled as she came by to lay out the coffee cups on the table. “I’d tell you to go easy on him. But I don’t think he needs it.”
Sousa gave another half-smile. “We’ll be the judge of that.”
As they checked him out, Steve checked out Sousa. Daniel was a quiet guy, more reserved than Steve was expecting, slow to smile but with a sensibility and genuineness Steve found compelling. The conversation wasn’t heavy, beyond a few compared notes about the war. All of them had served in one capacity or another, and they all still carried it to greater or lesser degrees— none more than Sousa himself, whose wounds persisted to this day. It seemed fair game for Jack to rag him about it, but Steve would gently turn the conversation away. He’d had shin splints before his transformation, and had been no stranger to crutches, or to the comments people made. Sousa made no acknowledgement one way or the other, but Steve could feel the weight of his gaze on him, taking him in, sizing him up. Steve could hardly blame him, though he wasn’t sure how far his relationship with Peggy had progressed— he had not asked, and Peggy had not said. Steve simply remained deferential and unruffled, even in the face of some fairly pointed interrogation masked as friendly ribbing.
“Where’d you serve, Grant? Europe or Pacific?” “What kind of work you do, since you got out?” “Artist, huh? What kind?” “Where’s your family from?” “I get along with everybody, except the krauts. You don’t have any kraut in you, do you, Grant?” “Ah, right. I’m shanty too. Sorry ‘bout that, you just kind of have the look.” “Big fella, aren’t you? How’d you get so big?” “Okay, stupid question. Some guys are just lucky, I guess.” “How’d you meet Carter, anyway?” “You know she gets around, don’t you?” “Aw, Christ, I didn’t mean it like that. Just that she’s got business, knows her own mind. That don’t bother you, does it?”
Steve faced down the firing squad with aplomb, answering as honestly as he could without giving too much away. Even their more aggressive probing he allowed with a smile, knowing it stemmed from a protectiveness of Peggy. The strangest part was the moment he realized Sousa was in almost the same position he’d been, when he’d wondered a thousand things about Peggy’s late husband of forty-five years— where had he served, what had he done, where had he come from, that made him the man she wanted to spend her life with. The wave of empathy filled his chest to bursting, to remember that in another world, Daniel had fathered her son named in Steve’s honor, and Steve was the one left on the outside to wonder.
By the end of the evening, the exchange has grown less pointed and the laughter with more ease. Thompson seemed satisfied enough that his hackles lowered, enough that when clapped Steve’s back on his way out, it didn’t feel like a test of strength. As Peggy walked Jack out, Sousa held back a moment, arranging his crutch with deliberate care, waiting for Angie to clear away the cups. At last he he levered himself to his feet and extended his hand.
“Good to meet you, sir,” Steve said to him.
“It’s been an honor,” he answered. “Captain.”
There it was. A heartbeat went by as Steve modulated his reaction. He glanced up a little, brows knit, no more. “Sorry?”
But Sousa only shook his head, refusing to play. “I saw the way Carter smiles at you. How she looks when she talks about you. There’s only ever been one guy who made her look like that. There only ever could be one.”
Steve wasn’t going to try to bullshit him. “We didn’t want people to know.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not about to mess up anything she wants.” Steve braced himself for questions, but Daniel asked none. He just met Steve’s gaze squarely, expression hard. “Just… take care of her, will you?”
Steve gripped Daniel’s hand in his. “For the rest of my life.”
It was just a small moment, with a different version of the man who’d hung like a ghost in his previous life. But still, Steve felt like he’d come to an understanding he’d needed.
~~~
Next chapter: 6. Stag Night
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}