Work Text:
December 6th, 1950
“I’ve got nearly a whole month until I’m due, darling. One diplomatic mission will be no issue.” Peggy reorganized the files on the desk, her ear pressed into her phone.
“Last time you were on a diplomatic mission you broke a rib, Peg.” Steve says, reminding her of the awful altercation that led them to conceive in the first place.
“It’s Paris, Steven. What has ever gone wrong in Paris?”
There’s a pregnant pause.
“Would it make you feel better if you were to assist me? The embassy is giving me a nice suite for the two days I’m over there, and you could see the city while I work. I know how badly you wanted to see the Louvre when we were last in Paris.” she suggests.
The Louvre does sound appealing, and God forbid anything happen to her, he would know right away, “I just want to make sure nothing goes wrong.”
“I know darling, I know. But really I’m absolutely certain nothing will go wrong.”
They’re on the SHIELD jet by nightfall, Steve dutifully packing each of them a suitcase and a bundle of emergency supplies.
“I don’t really think you’ll need your shield, we’ll only be there for two days...” Peggy shakes her head.
“You never know Peggy, you never know.”
It really is a simple diplomatic issue, Steve learns. Peggy is meeting with members of the 4th Republic in an attempt to aid the country with efforts to rebuild and reinforce. They’re finished with the negotiations by that Friday morning, leaving the rest of the day for sightseeing before their midnight flight.
What can only be described as false labor pains interrupt their whole day. They sting at her hips as she and Steven take lunch in a cafe and take a stroll through the romantically lit streets of the city-- all the while gentle snow flying around them.
They’re back in the hotel room, Peggy needed to take a rest, and Steve needed to repack his suitcase for the journey home, when the doorman lets them know their flight has been canceled.
“ Tempête De Neige … Snow Storm. The embassy sent me to tell you that… le vol est annulé. ”
“What?” Steve scratches the back of his head.
“We’re grounded, Steven.” Her primary French studies lending a hand, “We are able to stay another night, are we not?” she asks the doorman.
“ Oui, madame.”
“I told you something would go wrong,” Steve grumbled, “I’m glad I packed us extra clothing.”
“Our flight is delayed, I’d hardly say it was the end of the world.” A stronger twinge of pain nearly doubles her over. “See, now you’ve gotten the baby worked up.” she pulls herself back up, holding her head high, “Now why don’t we forgo the break, and go have some dinner. The snow isn’t nearly that bad, and we can be home by nightfall.”
Peggy can hardly eat her dinner, Steve’s overall worry sending her stomach into a sick spiral. For his sake, she attempts at the bread on the table, but the thought of her putting anything into her stomach prevents her from swallowing.
“I wouldn’t worry about the waste of food,” Peggy tells him, “this is all charged to SHIELD’s expense accounts.”
“Well, I’ll eat it if you really don’t want it,” Steve offers, never wanting to waste food and really having the appetite to handle two meals.
She pushes the plate towards him, “Have at it.”
They’re taking one last walk in the park, the snow falling more heavily and in larger flakes, when Peggy reaches out for Steve’s hand, “Steve, we should go now.”
“Sure,” he says. “Are you alright?”
“My water just broke,” Peggy replies evenly, calm as ever under pressure.
“Your water just broke,” he echoes, the words not really taking their idiomatic meaning. “...your water just broke,” he repeats slowly. The realization dawns on him, “Oh, my God,”
“Don’t fuss, just get me to a hospital,”
They make it to the hotel in plenty of time. Peggy finds herself needing to do most of the talking while Steve seems to be panicking, pacing back and forth while cursing himself for not bringing any necessary supplies, “We’ve still got four weeks, I hadn’t even packed an overnight bag yet.” The thought of his own premature birth settles in his mind, and Steve’s panic now includes the possible feeling of oncoming dread.
“ J'ai besoin d'un taxi. ” Peggy speaks calmly while her face reflects one of pure pain, “ Je dois aller à l'hôpital.”
The concierge shakes his head, “I’m sorry madame , there are no taxis available because of the storm.” something about his English relaxes her while his news made her heart drop.
“Right, I’m sorry.” Peggy grips the table through a contraction, “I happen to be in labor at this exact moment, and I will need some kind of assistance.”
“I am not sure if you could get any doctors out here, but the nearest hospital is just ten blocks away if you and your husband feel up to walking.”
Peggy’s attention drifts the door, the snow now nearly six inches. “I’ll need my boots,” she tells Steve, who seems to be repeating some mantra to himself.
“Right, we’ve trekked in snow before, the only difference is you’re in labor, and there’s no Commandos making bets on when we’re gonna kiss.” Steve tries his best to maintain his wife’s cool demeanor, but his words are laced with worry. “So I guess it couldn’t get any worse.”
“I suppose so,” Peggy replies. Steve was about to reply when the lights flicker for a few seconds, before completely shutting off. The room was pitch black, even the street lights had no power. “...forget I said anything,”
The contractions are getting worse; there’s no way they’re leaving the hotel in the dark during a blizzard .
“ Vous demandez quelque chose, madame ?”
Peggy had honestly forgotten the concierge was here for a few seconds. “Yes, candles, please. Lots of them, we’ll need them sent to our room.”
“Peggy, are you saying we’re going to have to do this now?”
“I’m not certain there’s any way for us to avoid this,” Peggy says through her teeth, “now I’m going to need you to carry me up to our room and help me with this.”
“I’ve never delivered a baby before,” Steve says, scooping her into his arms and walking the steps two at a time.
Peggy would rather not do this, either. Having her baby prematurely, in a foriegn country , in the middle of a blizzard, in a hotel , was not how she expected this to go. “Well, you’re gonna have to now,”
“Everything will be alright,” Steve says, placing Peggy onto the bed, half reassuring himself. Quickly he helps in undressing her, before sliding one of his undershirts over her chest.
Steve rushes to the sink to get every towel he can. “This can’t be harder than removing a bullet from someone,” he tells himself, “I just need some towels and water.” Future births are certainly easier, but he’ll have to make do with what he has.
From the bed, Peggy screams out in pain, “My God, come faster.”
Steve attentively returns, “How can I help?”
“Hold my hand, hold my hand.”
After five hours of labor, the baby was finally born just before midnight. A girl, and she was completely perfect. Granted, she was a tiny thing, but that was to be expected with a premature baby.
They hadn’t had anything to wrap her in, so for now, she was wrapped in Peggy’s sweater, asleep.
“She’s perfect.”
“I know,” Steve replies. “We still haven’t given her a name, you know.”
Peggy nods. “I was thinking...if it was a girl, we could name her Sarah.” she says gently.
“I…” he laughs softly, noticing the softly curved eyes his mother had on the sleeping baby, “I like that, a lot.”
“Then it’s settled. Welcome to the world, Sarah Angeline,” Peggy whispers.
“You certainly are a troublemaker, aren’t you, Sarah?” Steve stroked the baby’s cheek, “you wanted to keep your mother and I on our toes.”
“I do believe she gets that from her father,” Peggy added, “it seems he was always willing to surprise someone for the greater good.”
The next morning, after all of the snow had stopped and the roads were manageable, Peggy and Steve took the baby to the hospital. Despite her early delivery, the child seemed to be thriving fine.
“It’s odd,” the doctor noted, “I’ve never seen a child come early but be so healthy. It’s like her body was ready to go, and she came.”
Steve and Peggy gave each other a knowing glance, “She certainly is a super child.” Peggy admitted, holding Sarah close to her chest.
After a brief stop at the embassy to record Sarah’s birth as an American citizen, the family headed home, the newborn clinging tightly to Peggy’s breast as she ate.
“Absolutely certain, huh?” Steve asked.
“What’s that?” Peggy responded, her eyes paying full attention to the baby, who eagerly drank as she fell asleep.
“Well the other day you told me that you were absolutely certain nothing would go wrong.” Steve began.
“And nothing did.” Peggy replied, shifting Sarah to be burped, “It seems everything went perfectly right. Though I’m extremely glad you had that doubt.”