Chapter Text
“Mister Thompson, are you still there?” Sonya knocked on the door of room 208. It was the second time she had knocked.
She did not have the time for this. Her shift was ending at six and of course, five minutes before the end, The Boss had to let her clean the room of the guy who was late leaving. He was such a pain in the neck.
“Mister Thompson?” She asked again, her patience lessening and lessening, “If you do not open the door, I will have to come in.”
She waited for thirty seconds but still, no response.
“I am coming in, sir.” As she threw the door open, hoping its crash with the metal trolley filled with cleaning products would wake the guest up.
My god, he’s passed out drunk. She rolled her eyes and pushed him on his back. At first, she didn’t notice the wound on his shoulder. It was the blood she saw first. His shirt was drenched in it. Panic flashed in her eyes and her breath quickened. Sonya kneeled next to the man and undid his blouse. It was then that the wound was visible for her. It must’ve hit the aorta or something.
“Sir, are you alive?”
No response.
“Sir?” She shouted at him again, “Squeeze my hand. Sir? Mister Thompson?”
Again, no response.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Sonya crawled over the body and reached for the phone. Tears were falling down her cheeks as she tried to contact the police.
“What can I help you with?” The man on the other side of the line asked.
“T-There’s a man here.” Sonya sniffed, “He’s dead. Shot.”
The voice became all of a sudden more urgent. “Where are you, miss?”
“The Palm Tree Hotel.”
“The Palm Tree Hotel. Go, go go.” The man shouted indistinctly. “What’s your name?”
“Sonya Wilson.”
“Okay, Sonya, do you know if he’s dead?”
“I think so. H-He did not respond to my voice in any way.”
“Okay, okay. Do you know who the man is, Sonya?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me his name?”
“Jack Thompson. He was a guest here, stayed here for a week or so. I-I don’t quite remember” She whispered.
“Sonya, my men are there in about a minute. It will be okay-”
The stomping of footsteps and a loud voice barking over every sound was enough to alarm Sonya that her boss would arrive in a second. “Somebody, tell me what is going on, or I will flip my wig!”
“Who’s that?” The cop urged, when he got no answer he asked again. Louder and louder before Sonya told him it was her boss.
“Rickey o Riley,” The little man with greasy black hair gasped, “What on earth?”
It wasn’t long before three agents arrived on the scene. “Step away from the body.”
The boss huffed before leaving and Sonya notified the agent on the phone and then stepped out of the room.
She pressed herself against the wall but soon fell to the ground, because her legs were unable to support her. She hugged her legs and she cried softly.
“There’s something written with the blood.” An agent remarked, “Peg- I think it says Peggy. Peggy Ca. The rest is unreadable.”
“Guess we’ll just have to find a Peggy Ca.” The man joked. It made Sonya’s blood boil. A man was dead and he and his buddy were chuckling. Still, she did not dare say something. It might cause a bum rap and that, she was not interested in.
~*~
He's a graduate, he's a fashion plate. The chicks all call him a righteous gent. They would nominate him for Chief of State, but he'd rather be righteous than be President. Dinah Shore’s voice sounded from the radio as Peggy lay on her bed.
She was so tired. She hadn’t slept well since she had become aware of Whitney’s powers. And now that Whitney was locked away, it would seem like she would sleep like a baby. This was unfortunately not the case.
Dottie was still on the loose, that knucklehead of a Jack Thompson had that forged document, Ana was still recovering, Mr. Jarvis was not himself, at least and not to forget her kiss with Daniel.
She had to leave soon after, due to a press conference Daniel needed to attend. He had offered her to come, but she’d declined. She told him that Jarvis was probably in need of help, which wasn’t a complete lie but still felt like it. The reason why she lied was unclear to Peggy, it just seemed that she was overwhelmed by it all.
He would call, he promised. It was four hours from then. It was now almost half past six and nearing dinnertime. And all she could think about was why he hadn’t called yet.
God, she sounded like a love struck teenager.
Except she didn’t act like that around Fred. Fred she had met when she was fifteen. He was a year older than Peggy and her math tutor. She had been failing so badly that it was possible she wouldn’t even pass, but Fred had spent hours studying with her. When she got her report card that stated that she’d passed, she had run to his house and kissed him. He had laughed that it was bad etiquette to kiss before having three dates. That night he took her out on a date to the movie theater. The week after that he had taken her on a walk in the moonlight and the week after that on a picnic. It was that night, they kissed again. Nothing more than kissing happened, though. Not after they were both adults and engaged. But never, ever did she make sure she was close to a phone and waited for four long hours for him to call.
No, Daniel was the first she ever did that for. She hated and loved it at the same time.
Ring, ring.
The phone. Peggy shot up and hurried to the phone.
“Hello.” She breathed.
“Peggy.”
It was Daniel. It was a relief. She hadn’t wasted four hours of her life for him to just forget her. That would’ve been embarrassing and annoying.
“I didn’t think you would call anymore.”
“I’m sorry about that. But, um, I need you to come to The Palm Tree Hotel. It’s next to the Auerbach Theatrical Agency.”
“Um, okay. Why?” She tried to hide the disappointment in her voice, but Daniel still noticed, of course.
“I will make it up later, okay? It’s just very important that you’re here. It’s for a new case.”
“Sure, yeah, I’ll be there in a jiffy.”
“No rest for the wounded and weary.” She had told Ana that and now, she was starting to believe that it was actually true.
~*~
It didn’t take long for Peggy to show up.
As soon as Daniel saw her entering the building, his heart started beating a bit faster. Her hair was gorgeous as ever. Restyled after their make-out session, because he had messed up her hair a bit. She wore the same dress as she did then. He could still feel his hands slide over the fabric. He could still hear her whispers. He fell more and more in love with her accent every time he heard her speak. He still remembered how he hugged her tight, as if she was the only thing that was keeping him alive. Like she was his oxygen.
“Oh, Peggy. It is a relief that you are here.” He turned towards her. “These three men are from the LAPD. They’ll inform us about the victim.”
“Peggy.” The tall blonde repeated.
“Carter. Peggy Carter, nice to meet you.” Peggy shook his hand while the man glared weirdly at her. The other two did the same.
Odd.
“Chief Sousa, can we speak with you in private?” The short brunette with green eyes pleaded. “It, um, it’s important for the case.”
He shared a look with Peggy, who was clearly annoyed at this. He guessed it brought back the feeling of uselessness she had right after the war. She had never told him about it, but it was noticeable from miles away.
“Agent Carter is not going anywhere. You can say it to both of us.” Daniel declared, hoping that they would drop it.
They did not. “Sir, I really need to speak to you in private.” The man insisted.
“No.”
“Yeah… okay, um, we do not think that Agent Carter should be working on this case.” The man mumbled.
Peggy pursed her lips. It was like she felt where this conversation was going.
“And why do you think that?” Daniel was silently begging for them to say something else than that her sex was the problem.
“It is, um, because she’s a woman.” The other man stuttered.
“Yeah,” The third added, “We will not be giving information to a woman.”
“And that matters because?” Daniel exclaimed, “She deserves to be treated with respect-”
“Daniel, stop.” Peggy grabbed his arm, “They have the information, and I’m okay with sitting this one out, truly. I still have to find Dottie anyway.”
“But-” he protested.
“Do you remember what I told you?”
I’m also more than capable of handling whatever these adolescents throw at me.
“Yes.”
“Well then. I’ll just go and find Dottie.” She smoothed her dress and then turned around. Her head was still high as she left the building.
As soon as he thought she was gone, he turned back to the men. “That was completely unnecessary. Agent Carter is one of the best agents I know and it is wrong to just assume she’s a bad-”
“The victim wrote her name in his own blood.” The blonde interrupted him.
“Oh.” A rush of different emotions came onto the surface. At first, it was the feeling of disbelieve, why would someone write her name? Then anger. Why wasn’t he told this before? Who was this victim? Did Peggy have to do something with it? Or was it just a cruel joke? Followed by doubt, he thought she was the villain, when he arrested her for helping Howard Stark, and he was wrong. Was this again the case? And it ended with worry. How would this affect her future? Her career? Her credibility?
“Who was the victim?” Daniel wondered.
“Jack Thompson. Didn’t they tell you?”
Of course, it was Jack Thompson. Who else? He would’ve been more upset with his colleague's death, if it wasn’t for the problems he had caused. Daniel had grown fond of Jack over the years. He did not agree with Thompson ever. Their methods of work were too different and the people they liked to hang around with. Still, they’d had drinks at the bar across the street from work almost every two weeks. You couldn’t call them friends, good colleagues was a better way to describe their relationship.
“No, they did not.” Daniel grimaced.
~*~
The war had given her purpose. A purpose she had lost after it was won. She was Captain America’s fling, she was a woman who just so happened to be lucky enough to be recruited, she was what Jason Wilkes was to Isodyne. She was in the S.R.R. because they wouldn’t seem to be discriminating. There was a woman, there was a colored man in the company, they included people other than white men. However, how good they did their job, respect would never be earned as easily as for the others. Peggy had won the respect of her colleagues at the New York S.S.R. after uncovering the mystery of Howard Stark’s stolen inventions. It was at that moment, she had more purpose than filing reports and getting the lunch order. She could go in the field and do what she was best at. In LA, it was different. People didn’t know of her here, due to Thompson taking all the credit for her work. It was a slap in the face when those adolescents had told her she couldn’t join in because she was a woman.
It wasn’t such a surprise. It was just a slap in the face she could’ve expected but hadn’t.
If Peggy had expected it, it would’ve been a lot easier for her to deal with. Now, it just ripped some old wounds open. Some decades old and some fresh.
The times that her mother scolded her for not being as ladylike as her female peers and berated her for having another dream than being a housewife. To the time when she changed schools and the boys were making fun of her for being herself. The punch Peggy had given them had made them shut up. The way the men in her life–her father, Fred, her boss and Micheal–all thought that they knew what she wanted and needed to do. Then you had those recruits in the army who thought nothing of her.
Steve was the first one who actually saw her as an equal. As someone who could make her own decisions. Perhaps that was why she was so attracted to him. But he was in the past now, there were more men in her life who saw her like that. And some who still didn’t.
The harsh and sad truth was that that would always be the case.