1963-06-18 - Restless Nights
Summary: Peggy can't sleep and ends up spilling top secret beans to her husband about the impending Project Paperclip.
Related: http://marvel1963mush.wikidot.com/log:1963-06-20-protesting-paperclip
Theme Song: None
sousa peggy 


It was late. Middle of the night late. They laid down for bed about four hours ago and some sleep was gotten, but it was restless on Peggy's part and after tossing and turning a bit too much she's finally given up. In hopes that he's managed to stay asleep, she very gently shifts the sheet off of her frame without picking it up (and letting in cool air that might wake up) in her attempts to shift out of bed and escape to something that isn't the fruitlessness of sleep. Sitting slowly, she's doing everything she can not to rouse him. Often it's ineffective. The trouble with both of them being high level intelligence officers — it's rare that they miss anything.

Once she's been sitting a few minutes, leaving the room quiet and still again for that time, she shifts forward onto her feet. It's warm enough that she doesn't bother with a robe over her summery cream satin night gown — her bare arms and legs are nothing her husband or child haven't seen before. Gentle as a mouse, she does her best to creep from the room towards her office down the hall.

*

"Can't sleep?" is asked quietly as Sousa shifts up onto his elbow. He doesn't get out of bed yet…it's a little more of an ordeal but it's not out of the question. "Want to talk about it or is this something else?" Something she needs to work through on her own.

It's not the first time one of them has woken up in the middle of the night and not because of Mickey. "Want me to get some tea going?"

*

The moment she hears his voice, Peggy stops in her tracks. Her eyes close and she mentally curses. She hated when she kept him up, even if this really had become their habit. Much like never going to bed angry (though some nights have been tempting), if one couldn't sleep, the other generally didn't either. Peggy sighs, sinking back down to the edge of the bed and shifting to stretch out at his side, propped on one elbow facing him.

"…Didn't want to wake you. Don't suppose if I kiss your cheek and tell you to go back to sleep it's going to happen?" She asks gently, not pushing him out, so whatever was on her mind wasn't marked completely top secret. Or, perhaps it was but she still wanted to talk about it. Only three times in ten years has she told him no, she didn't want to talk, and all those times it was the government keeping her tongue, not herself. "I don't want to get you up. Someone around here should be well rested."

*

"Sure, I could, but then what sort of husband would I be?" The more traditional kind, it would seem. When the Government wouldn't let her talk, he didn't press it…he knows what sort of business they're in and with her being the Director of SHIELD, she has secrets even he isn't privy to. It's an interesting juggling trick, balancing work and private life. Daniel shifts to sit up on the bed, "Mickey tends to do that, so I guess we're off the hook." At least their daughter gets good sleep more nights than not. Every kid has nightmares now and then.

"I'm still a little jetlagged anyhow, so it's all right. It's like…11am Italian time."

*

"Some day we need to go there together. Italy." Peggy states with a half sigh, almost dreamy, but she knows it's a distraction. She sinks back into the pillow at his side, stretching a bit closer so her fingertips can lazily trace up and down his side. Touch helped. Having him back home helped even more. A bittersweet smile crosses her lips, "Nothing leaves this bed. Nothing." And from the look in her eyes, this is not on the cleared list. She shouldn't be having this conversation.

But she is. She stares back at him hard for a few heartbeats before she draws in a deep breath and starts, "…What do you remember about a man named Arnim Zola…?"

*

She's not getting up to get tea, so this might be a good thing. Sousa places a hand on her's as she touches his side, "Of course nothing leaves this bed. What's going on, Peggy?" He grows serious, dark eyes watching her. "Arnim Zola…" he takes a moment to think about the name. "German, right? Nazi?" After December 1944, his knowledge of the war is through newspapers and radio reports. Not on the front lines anymore.

"He was prosecuted at Nuremberg, wasn't he? Imprisoned? I mean, I remember the name but I don't remember much else. Why?"

*

While idly thinking of Italy seemed more tempting, Peggy has opened the door to this subject, so she doesn't shy away. She walks through. His recollections of Zola get a slight tilt of her head, acknowledgment that he is mostly right, but even in the darkness of the room he can see the tension behind her eyes. There is something quite *personal* about Zola, not just another random nazi scientist. She keeps her fingertips against his ribs as she picks up speaking. "Swiss, actually. But yes, he worked for the Nazis and then for HYDRA during the war. Chester Phillips and I were the ones who put him behind bars. He was personally responsible for heading up the science division of HYDRA trying to replicate the Project Rebirth. He almost certainly had a hand in the assassination of Dr. Abraham Erskine."

Peggy stops, forcing herself to actually take a bit of a breath to try and calm her pulse even as she speaks about the man. She can practically feel her blood pressure going through the roof. She rolls onto her back, letting her hand remain loose on his side, but she stares at the ceiling instead to recite the rest of the words as neutrally factual as possible. "I'd consider him one of the most insane, evil scientists I'd ever had misfortune to encounter. It was a point of pride on my record to see him behind bars."

*

"I guess not all the Swiss were neutral," Sousa offers as he listens to the man's history. He wasn't a part of those missions and may have already been injured when all that happened. "Why bring him up now though?" is offered as he stays on his side, watching Peggy even as she rolls onto her back. "Has he been released?"

He's privy to quite a bit but not everything and not all sorts of news cross his desk. "I thought insane, evil scientists were relegated to Boris Karloff movies. But I'm learning that they're not just stories in books or movies."

*

"No. They are not. But… they are still geniuses, in their way. I guess." Peggy stares hard at the ceiling and Daniel might realize she's probably close to the most angry he's ever seen her. She's practically vibrating with it. Finally, she does actually sit up and swing her legs off the bed, standing. She starts a quiet, almost predatory pace, her body trying to do something with all the emotional energy.

"The Swiss Government, along with a few other goverments of scientists who had been put behind bars, have negotiated their freedom provided they work with oversight of an international organization who would best know how to 'Use their talents'." Peggy's jaw grits. She stalks over to the desk in the bedroom and opens THAT drawer, the one with the half stale pack of cigarettes they barely smoke but is still there for special occasions. She grabs one and the zippo, carrying to over to the window.

*

"Having known a genius or two in my lifetime," Sousa offers, "I think all of them are insane. Selfish, too. Maybe a little evil, but that is also the point of view, isn't it?" As Peggy moves off the bed to pace, he pushes himself to sitting up, watching her as she continues. "Are they being monitored though? House Arrest or something…and what's to stop them from cooking up crazy schemes within these organizations? Using their facilities and resources for their own selfish projects?"

There's a pause then before he asks, "Do you know where this Zola is being sent? Maybe you can warn them…"

*

Silence from his wife for another few heartbeats as she shoulders open the window and settles to perch her satin-clad frame on the sill. The cigarette is lit, her hand that holds it hanging out the window so their bedsheets don't smell like smoke, but it's been enough business and deep breath that she's not quite ready to pop. "NATO is calling it Operation Paperclip. Don't ask me who the bloody f*ck came up with the name. And they have decided that the best organization to give these 12 scientists — Zola included — oversight is SHIELD."

Peggy lets that hang in the air a few heartbeats, taking another drag of her cigarette.

*

"Operation Paperclip?" is repeated rather dubiously as Sousa watches his wife, silhouetted against the night sky in the windowframe. God, she's amazing. But this isn't the time for romance.

"Wait, what? Seriously? How…What are we supposed to do with them? To monitor them?" He'd probably be standing as well if it didn't involve grabbing his crutches to do so.

*

There's the rub, and why his wife looks close to putting her hand through a wall. Why she tossed and turned the entire night, couldn't sleep. She takes another long drag of that stale cigarette, half bare legs crossing right over left. She's utterly oblivious to the fact that she might look lovely right now, but there was something about anger which did make Peggy Carter glow.

"They think we can use them to develop initiatives like Project Rebirth. They want to chase a super soldier serum again, among other projects. It's… it's not an option. If we want to continue operating in a dozen countries, we have to agree to harbor and… Support… those war criminals. Supposedly the scientists are claiming innocence. That they were just following orders. That they want to help the world again. Someone is buying the loads of shite they are shoveling."

*

Sousa's hands lift to his face as he presses them to his forehead and then scrubs his face. Now he won't be sleeping much either. Not knowing that they're going to have to babysit a group of ex-Nazi scientists. He's silent for a moment, breathing in and out while he thinks. "Are we going to have to give them room and board? We can monitor them that way. We can also assign agents to them in the labs…assistants or other scientists to keep an eye on them and report suspicious activity to us. We can limit their access to information…limit their access to resources unless they go through the necessary channels," read: Red Tape.

*

"I…don't think we can force them to stay on base. I don't know if we want to. They are receiving full pardons for agreeing to work for 'the good guys'. But yes. Lots of… limited access. Keeping them to simple, small projects." Peggy exhales another breath of the cigarette, her throat tightening another moment as she holds back the scream or string of curses that want to escape her pale pink lips. He's one of the few people that ever get to see her completely without make up.

"…I hate that we have to devote already short resources to playing babysitter. I hate that HYDRA's sins have been so quickly forgotten. It… god, I know it's 20 years. They keep saying they've done twenty years, they've done their time… "

*

"Why can't we? Why can't that be a stipulation of their employment? We can have them searched upon arrival and departure…I don't care if they've been pardoned for cooperation. Twenty years in prison doesn't bring back the lives they took. The people they harmed." Sousa then pushes himself to the edge of the bed to sit…he's not getting up yet, but he can't just lie back in bed to discuss something like this. "Maybe Howard can help create…something to help us keep an eye on them. Might be easier than reassigning agents."

*

"I tried. I've been fighting this for half the week. I… might have to go to Washington tomorrow, see if I can fight it in person. But everything I'm hearing…" Peggy sighs, dragging her free hand across her face, "They've already made all these decisions. Without me. Without Phillips. Without Falsworth. It's all coming from over our heads. And I'm not even supposed to be TELLING you all because they want to announce it as some big step towards peace and cooperation. A new era in scientific progress…" Peggy practically spits those last words.

*

"Go if you need to go," Sousa agrees. He'll be home to help look after Mickey…and it'll force him to meet the new nanny. "I'll act surprised, but why is SHIELD being singled out for this? If they're going to insist on it, I would demand that they give extra funding so that we can continue to insure the safety and freedoms of Americans. I don't trust any of these guys further than I could throw them and I don't know any of them. I don't care if they were 'following orders', they could have fought them! They could have refused to do these atrocities. People died because of these 'orders' and they need to be held accountable…not absolved."

*

One last drag of the cigarette and she flicks it out the window. Peggy is quiet another long moment, but she's mostly calmed her temper. Ironically, it was easier to calm when he was feeling angry about it all FOR her. At least she didn't feel quite so alone. She finally unfolds from the window sill and comes back over to his side, settling onto the bed next to him. "If I go, it won't be long… I promise to come home soon. I hate when we're away more days in a month than together." And some months that definitely happened. "…and I know, Daniel. I agree. I screamed all of this already at them and… no one is listening. It'll be what it is. We'll handle it. We always do."

*

Sousa settles back into the bed as Peggy slips back in beside him. He listens to her before he reaches to take her hand and just hold it for a moment. Finally though, he looks at her, "Don't scream at them. I know you're angry, but," he hates having to point things like this out. He's seen past it, but others aren't as progressive as he is. "They're going to expect hysterics. But go in calm, collected, and state your facts and reasons directly. I know you know how to play the game, Peg, but you have to play it to the extremes with these guys. They're not going to see the Director of SHIELD."

*

Well, that was the most miserable piece of common sense she's heard in a long time. Peggy's nose wrinkles, staring over at her husband with a look that is ALMOST a pout. It's the same look Michaela gets when she really wants to do something she knows is wrong. Sometimes, the two are entirely too alike. Peggy half sighs, "…but I *want* to scream at them. Or strangle them. Or… I don't know, shout until SOMEONE hears SOME sense…" She leans over, resting her forehead on his shoulder for a heartbeat or two.

*

"You do that and they're just going to pat you on the head and tell you to leave this to the men." There. He said it. Sousa wraps an arm around her as she leans in to rest her forehead on his shoulder. "They're obviously idiots, but you have to play it their way if you want them to even consider listening to you. I'd offer to go with you, but I think that would just make things worse."

*

"…I know. I know, I know, I know. We work so damn hard, Daniel… " It's never 'I work so damn hard.' Though she does, and she has, and always has, even before him. But Peggy never leaves him out of her fight, because her he is, holding her up and talking sense into his fiery, determined powder keg of a wife. She turns her head, nose pressing against his skin, and just takes a deep breath. He lowered her blood pressure better than anything else. "I'll go to DC… maybe out to Geneva, if I have to. I'll play it their way. I… I'll try to get us some leashes, if nothing else. But this is coming and I don't think we can stop it."

*

Sousa knows that she works harder than he does. She has to and that has never sit so well with him. She deserves the Directorship of SHIELD and everyone knows it, even if she is a woman. He holds her close as she leans in, "You do what you need to do. You know I support you, but you have to play their game. I know you can do it…" she can even pretend she's him if it helps. But then again, his style might not be the best to handle something like this. "Leashes would be something. It would be better than them just running around amuck. Surely they'd understand that if we didn't have anything to control and contain them that once the public hears that they're here, we'll be targeted."

*

"They say they can spin it. That the public will accept. Twenty years is a long time… Maybe… maybe people have forgotten." Peggy whispers, though the pain behind her words as she says that is evident. The war was 20 years go, but there were times it still felt like yesterday. She leans a bit heavier against him, wrapping one arm around his back, the anger finally having gone out of her and left gutted exhaustion.

*

"Tell that to the veterans. Tell that to the survivors. Tell that to the people who lost loved ones to them…" tell that to the injured, like him. "Twenty years doesn't let you forget something like that. Twenty years won't grow my leg back…or bring people back to life." Daniel holds her close, "Maybe you can spin -that- to them. That people don't forget something like this. Maybe it's a previous generation, but kids grew up without a parent or grandparent because of the war that these men supported."

*

Her arm around his waist tightens a bit more. While they both fought in the war, she knows which of them lost the most as well. Peggy holds him a bit closer and turns her head up, pressing a few softer kisses against his adam's apple. "I'll mention it. None of this is… near so black and white as it should be. We'll figure it out." She closes her eyes, drawing in one last, deep breath of his scent before she forces herself to sit up straight once more. "…we should sleep. Mickey'll be up in four hours whether we like it or not. The world keeps moving."

*

Sousa returns Peggy's tighter hug and plants a kiss on the top of her head, "It never is. I know that whatever happens, we'll deal with it." The world does keep moving even if they want it just to pause or slow down for a little bit. "I was going to suggest a vacation this summer, but…maybe we'll have to put it on hold."

His eyebrows lift some as he looks down at his wife, "Mickey?" Even she used the nickname. There's an amused little smile before he settles back in, still holding Peggy in his arms. "It does. Guess we'll keep moving with it."

*

As he lifts his brows in response to her using his preferred nick name, Peggy just smirks. "…Yes, Mickey. Fine. You were right. I think she rather hates when I call her Kay and half the time it means she's in trouble. Mickey has stuck. You won that one." There is no animosity in her voice as she says that, just groaning acquiesence and amusement. She then leans up, pressing a deeper kiss straight to his lips. She lets it linger for a moment longer than is chaste before pulling back and tugging him back into the sheets. "…I love you. We'll get through it. We always do. Now, though… if either of us wants to be functional, sleep. We should try, at least." She tugs the sheets back up over them, at least half way, settling back against the pillows. It's only a few heartbeats later that she adds one last whisper, "…thank you for listening."

*

Sousa can't hide a smug little smile in the admission that he won that tiny little unimportant battle. "Of course she likes it." Because he'll use her full name if she's ever in trouble with him. Her kiss is returned and he holds her close before helping her tuck them both under the sheet, "I've learned that I have a high tolerance for coffee, but if you insist on sleep, I suppose I'll have to manage." Of course he's still exhausted.

"I love you too and I'll always listen." He knows that he doesn't even need to remind her. "Good night."

*

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License