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Peggy Carter rushed through the hospital entrance, sidestepping a nurse pushing a wheelchair. She didn’t stop running until she reached the nurse’s station.
“Daniel Sousa,” she said between heavy breaths. “What room?”
The lone nurse behind the counter looked up, unimpressed. “I'm sorry. You are…?”
“Looking for Daniel Sousa’s room.”
“I'm afraid Mr. Sousa is not taking visitors,” the nurse said coolly.
Peggy slapped her badge on the counter. “Mr. Sousa is a colleague and witness to a murder. I need to see him at once.”
“He’s unconscious, Miss…” The nurse looked down at Peggy’s credentials. “...Carter.”
“It’s Agent Carter, and he needs to be guarded. What room is he in?”
The nurse sighed heavily, making it quite clear that she was put out by all of this. She looked down at some papers, then said, “Room 12.”
Peggy grabbed her badge and tossed out a terse “thank you” as she briskly walked away. She kept telling herself that he was alive. He would be fine. He had to be.
She’s been out of town, in Sacramento in search of HYDRA. She should have been here, been his backup. Instead he took a green agent who froze just long enough for Daniel to be shot point-blank, missing his heart by inches. The green agent, Arlen Westover, was shot as well, succumbing to his injuries before backup was able to arrive.
She wasn't lying when she told the nurse Daniel was a witness to a murder, but that wasn't the reason she was there. Rose had filled her in on his condition, that he was still unconscious following surgery to remove the bullet and sew up the damage, that the doctor said Daniel wasn't out of danger yet but the surgery had gone better than expected. She believed Rose but she had to know for herself that he was alive.
With a deep breath, she pushed open the door to Room 12. The first thing she saw was a window, gossamer curtains pulled to the side, allowing sunlight to wash over the room. Underneath the window was a nondescript vinyl chair, its chrome shining in the sun. She opened the door further and stepped inside, her heart clenching at the sight of the figure in the bed.
He was covered to mid-chest by a crisp white sheet. As she approached, she noticed his hair, messy and curly, much like he looked when he awoke in the morning before he showered. His lips were slightly parted and, as she arrived at the side of the bed, she strained to hear his breathing. He was breathing. He was alive.
She leaned over him, her lips lightly touching his. His breath feathered out, steady and warm. She wasn't used to kissing him and feeling him not respond, his lips completely unmoving. Just like he was. The only indication that he was still alive was the shallow rise and fall of his chest.
She wanted to put a hand over his heart, to feel his heartbeat under her fingertips, but the left side of his chest was covered in gauze and tape. So instead, she laid her hand on the opposite shoulder, reveling in the warmth of his skin.
Warmth meant life.
And life was exactly what she had now, with Daniel. A life she never thought she would have. A complete life. She was a strong, independent woman, but Daniel made her a better woman, a better person. He pushed her, he challenged her. He loved her.
He had to survive. He had get better. There was no other option. There was no way he could...
Biting back a sob, she stumbled to the chair under the window and sat down, the enormity of the situation suddenly hitting her. Daniel could die. She could lose him.
No. She couldn’t lose him.
The door opened, and Peggy was on alert. She sighed when she saw it was just Rose, who looked toward the bed and sighed herself.
“Glad you were able to get here so quickly,” Rose said, walking into the room to stand next to the chair. “It will mean a lot to him.”
All Peggy could do was nod.
“I called Chief Thompson,” Rose continued. “He said you’re in charge now. I’ve informed the other agents.”
Peggy nodded again, though she couldn’t have cared less about being in charge. She was a professional; she should care, but seeing the man in the bed, so weak, all her thoughts and emotions were occupied by him.
“I can't lose him,” Peggy whispered, not realizing she had said it aloud.
Rose reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “You won't. He's as tough as they come. You know that.”
Peggy nodded weakly. Rose was right; Daniel was strong, the strongest person she knew. But a bullet to the chest can stop anyone, strong or not.
“Agents are on scene, investigating?” Peggy asked.
“We have men combing through the scene and some out looking for the shooter. She won’t get away with this.”
“Wait,” Peggy said, alarmed. “She?” Recognition flooded her body. “Dottie Underwood?”
Rose’s shoulders hiked infinitesimally but Peggy knew that meant most likely it was. She wondered briefly if that was Dottie’s plan: Send Agent Carter off on a HYDRA goose chase in Sacramento while I take out the person most important to her. Always know your enemy’s weakness, and Dottie Underwood knew Peggy’s weakness all too well.
“We didn’t get definitive word that it’s Underwood,” Rose replied, “but it was a woman, red hair, faster than any human should be.”
“Pull agents off other cases. Get Marsack and Southland if they’re at a standstill with the Forester case.” Peggy’s jaw flexed. “When I find her, I will kill her.”
A raspy “get in line” startled both women.
Peggy jumped up from her chair and ran toward the bed. “Daniel?” She grasped his hand, and his fingers twined with hers.
“I’m okay,” he whispered.
“You’re lying.”
“Maybe.” He turned his head toward Rose. “Westover?”
Rose’s only response was a solemn shake of her head.
“Shit,” he whispered.
Rose approached the bed. “I'll make sure his family is notified.” She reached out and lightly squeezed his forearm. “You concentrate on getting better, Chief.”
“Working on it.”
Rose nodded. “I’ve arranged for agents to guard the room, just in case, and I’ll make sure we have all hands on deck.” She looked at Peggy, giving her a ‘he’s going to be fine’ smile, then left the room.
“How bad?” he asked.
“How bad is what?”
“Me.”
She brushed her fingers over his cheek. “You’re a bit more full of holes, and you have some recovery time in front of you, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.”
“More scars.” The corners of his mouth quirked into a small smile. “Won’t want me anymore.”
“Nothing could be further from the truth, Daniel,” she said, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice but not succeeding. “A few new scars won’t scare me away. I love you.”
His smile widened a little. “Love you.”
She bent down, her lips lightly touching his again. This time, he responded. A bit slowly and not with his normal enthusiasm, but the feeling still made her stomach flutter.
“That’s a little better,” she said softly as she pulled away.
“What?”
“I kissed you earlier but you didn’t return it,” she said, aware of how ridiculous she sounded. She couldn’t help it. He was alive.
He smiled. “Sorry. Raincheck?”
“Absolutely,” she whispered, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
She walked away and grabbed the chair, pulling it close to the right side of the bed. After she sat, she laid her head on his good shoulder and held his hand. He gave a hum of approval, and it made her smile.
Agents would be here soon to stand guard, but she wanted to be close to him, even if just for a short time.
He was alive. That was all that mattered.