Chapter Text
The L&L was just at the end of the lunch rush when Peggy sat down at the counter, smiling as Angie quickly set down her usual with a grin.
“Right on time. I swear I’m gonna set my watch to you.”
“You don’t wear a watch.” Peggy nods to Angie’s empty wrist as she picks up her fork.
“I could always start.” Angie shrugs before turning around to pick up a fresh carafe of coffee.
Peggy enjoys this time of day at the L&L. The sun is starting its slow descent behind the buildings and the patrons tend to be quieter, kinder. The current patrons are all a little older than the usual rush crowd. They have the extra time that only bosses can use to leisurely enjoy their meal.
As Peggy eats she hears the whoosh of the revolving door as two men in business suits enter and sit at the counter. Angie throws a “Be with you in a sec” over her shoulder as she takes orders from an elderly couple in the far booth. The men murmur to each other while Peggy continues to eat.
Angie rounds the counter and pulls off the newest ticket from her pad to hand off to the kitchen. She throws Peggy another smile as she comes to stand in front of her two new customers. “What can I get ya?”
Peggy watches her bright smile freeze on her face and the color in her flushed cheeks drain. She backs up from the men seated at the counter until she hits the rack of extra condiments and napkins. Angie jumps slightly when she runs out of room, her breathing picking up as her wide eyes stay focused on the two strangers. Peggy’s hand tightens around her fork as she takes in the scene.
“Angela.” The man closest to her says in an icy tone. “How have you been doing? It’s been what, five years?”
“What do you want?” Angie whispers in a strained way. Peggy can hear the fear in her voice. “I did what you wanted, I stayed away.”
“Now now, Angela. I just wanted to check up on you. See that you were staying out of trouble.” The man leans forward on his elbows as his companion studies Angie in a cold, clinical way.
“How did you find me?”
“One of our nurses recognized you from your file. Told me where I could find my sister in case I wanted to check in on her. She wanted to make sure we’d set you straight. I came to see that we did our jobs right.”
Peggy stares in horror as so many realizations click themselves into place. She had known about Angie for a while. Angie had built a beautiful façade over her thick walls, only Peggy hadn’t figured out what it was that she was hiding. She had seen the fleeting glances filled with a pained longing and felt the lingering hugs and touches. She always figured that Angie would tell her in her own time. She hadn’t thought that Angie would be hiding a past she was too afraid to think about.
“Please go.” Angie’s voice is quiet and it sounds like she’s begging.
“It looks to me like you’ve adjusted well, Angela. Wouldn’t you think so, Mr. Bergler? You remember Mr. Bergler, don’t you?” The man, Angie’s brother relaxes back into his seat as he gestures to the man seated to him. He nods at Angie and continues to study her.
Angie tries to take a breath, “Please go,” she asks again, her hands gripping the shelves behind her.
Peggy knows what a person looks like before they’re about to lose consciousness. She’s out of her seat and around the counter as Angie sways on her feet and her eyes roll back. Peggy catches Angie before she crumples to the ground. “Angie!” Peggy cradles her head in her lap and shoos away the fry cook who has stepped out from the kitchen.
“I see that my sister has moved on to more dramatic methods. Maybe we should look into bringing her back. I’m sure the hospital will cover the costs this time.” He takes out a notebook and begins to jot down a few notes.
“You will take her nowhere.” Peggy tells him in an even tone.
“Who are you, might I ask? My sister’s keeper? I don’t think you understand Miss, but my sister has been ill for a long time. I’ve been trying to find ways to fix her and others like her.” He reaches into his pocket and flicks a card towards Peggy, Christophe Martinelli, Bellevue Hospital.
“There is nothing wrong with her. Anything that is wrong was created by the likes of you.” Peggy spits as she slowly stands and pulls Angie into her arms. Her body is warm against Peggy’s, her head falling onto Peggy’s shoulder.
“I can have you arrested for associating with her. She has files and records.” His tone is even as he makes his threat.
“I can kill you and make it look like an accident.” Peggy replies in an even calmer tone as she stands at her full height. “If you ever come near her again, I will make your life unbearably difficult.” Peggy doesn’t elaborate; she carries Angie out the back of the diner and hails a cab while she readjusts the way that Angie’s body rests in her arms.
Peggy doesn’t let her go once she’s settled into the back of the cab. She holds Angie close as the car weaves through the traffic of the early afternoon. Peggy brushes her fingers through Angie’s hair and notices them for the first time. Burn marks on the inside of her hairline just next to her temple; not much larger than a quarter. For the first time in a while, Peggy feels the threatening sting of tears. She presses a kiss to the top of Angie’s head and watches the world go by in a wet blur.
Angie still hasn’t woken by the time Peggy gets her home and lays her down on her bed. Even unconscious she looks troubled; whatever thoughts that had caused this clearly still hold her in a vice grip. Peggy is gentle as she pulls off Angie’s shoes and sets them aside followed by her hairpins and the starched L&L hat. Next she begins to unbutton the bright uniform that smells of stale grease and the detergent that Jarvis supplies them with. Angie’s body is soft and pliant while Peggy maneuvers her out of her uniform. Her hands are light and tender as she rolls Angie’s stockings down her legs, her fingers brushing the slight discoloration around both of her ankles.
Peggy has so many questions that she isn’t sure she wants answered. Angie looks so small on the bed, her body curling in on itself as Peggy sets a blanket over her. She bends to kiss Angie’s forehead and run her finger through her hair, Peggy’s fingers brushing over the scars still left behind. “Oh my darling,” she whispers.
Peggy is quick to rid herself of the day’s clothes and makeup. Pulling on a silk nightgown and wrapping herself in a robe. When she reenters Angie’s room, she hasn’t moved. So Peggy settles herself on the overstuffed armchair across from the bed to watch over Angie.
When Peggy wakes it’s to the sound of Angie screaming. She begs for mercy as her body pulls against restraints that are no longer there. Her body taut as she strains her voice to scream louder. She moves like a woman possessed by demons, only these demons aren’t found in scriptures; they’re found in rooms with white walls with the intent to fix what isn’t broken. Peggy stands over Angie and tries to wake her.
“Angie, please wake up.” Peggy is afraid to touch her, having seen men come back with combat fatigue. She doesn’t want to risk getting hit or scaring Angie when she wakes.
Angie screams again, the vein in her neck popping as she turns away from Peggy. Her body jolts as she wakes, she gasps before vomiting in her bed a moment later. Angie’s breaths come out ragged as she continues to cough and sob.
“Angie?” Peggy whispers, her hand coming to rest on a clammy back. Angie’s eyes are glassy when she turns to look at Peggy. Glassy and haunted. “I’m going to run you a bath. Does that sound alright?”
Angie doesn’t respond, but she allows Peggy to pull her to her feet and lead her into the adjoining bathroom. Peggy seats her at the vanity while she sets about filling the tub and pouring in some of the scented oils that line the side. Once the taps have been turned off the only sound that Peggy can hear is Angie’s uneven breathing as she stares out at nothing.
“Would you like me to leave you alone?” Peggy kneels in front of Angie, ignoring the smell of drying vomit and sweat. Angie twitches her head to the side, “No?” This time Angie’s shake of her head is a little more defined. “Okay.” Peggy pulls Angie to her feet and tenderly cups her face. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”
Angie nods but doesn’t look Peggy in the eye; instead she stares down at the floor. Peggy leans forward to kiss her hairline before stepping back and easing Angie’s slip over her body. She throws it into the hamper that sits in the corner of the large bathroom and steps behind Angie to start unhooking her brassier. Peggy guides it down Angie’s slim shoulders. She brushes her fingers over light scars along the back of her ribcage. Peggy begins to wonder what caused them, she wonders until Angie wraps her arms around herself and her fingers rest over them.
Peggy sucks in a breath and squeezes her eyes shut.
Angie is still as Peggy pulls her underwear down her legs, stepping out of them with mechanical movements. Angie stands bare before her; muscles lean from hours spent at the automat and in dance classes. Muscles tense from her living nightmare. Peggy guides her to the large bathtub and helps her to step into the hot water. She stares at the wall in front of her while Peggy begins to wet her hair with soapy water.
As she slowly runs her fingers through Angie’s damp hair, Peggy beings to notice more marks on Angie’s body. Faded lash marks mar her back and she finds more of the same quarter sized burns along her hairline and the sides of her breasts. Peggy allows her tears to fall as she traces them with the lightest touch.
“Oh Angie.”
It’s then that Angie squeezes her own eyes shut and begins to rock herself; fingers clawing at the skin on her back like she wants to escape her own skin. She mutters to herself so quietly that Peggy has to lean over the edge of the tub to hear her mantra of “Not broken.” She repeats it to herself over and over and over.
Peggy sucks in a sharp breath. She gently turns Angie’s head to face her and waits for her eyes to open. “Angie, you are not broken.” She tells her in firm voice that allows no argument.
Angie looks at Peggy for the first time since they were at the diner hours before. She furrows her eyebrows in confusion, eyes searching Peggy for the lie that isn’t there. The sob that escapes her is loud and tears Peggy in two. Angie curls in on herself as she cries. Peggy is quick to stand and step into the tub behind Angie, she doesn’t care that her robe or nightgown are soaked immediately.
The water in the tub sloshes over the side as Peggy kneels behind Angie’s trembling body, holding her close while Angie cries like Peggy is the first person to tell her that she isn’t broken. That she isn’t wrong, or ill, or shouldn’t exist. Peggy cries because she realizes that maybe she is the first person to tell Angie that she has worth.
“You are not broken.” Peggy repeats over Angie’s sobs as her hands come up to grip Peggy’s arms. “You are not broken and you are loved. You are loved.” Peggy tells her again, this time quieter as she pulls Angie’s body even closer to hers.
Once the water has cooled and Angie’s breathing has calmed to an occasional hiccup, Peggy stands the two of them up and helps Angie step out onto the plush bathmat. Peggy wraps her in one of the soft robes hanging with the other linens and begins to dry her with a soft touch. Peggy guides her into the bedroom, where she picks out clean pajamas for Angie and continues to pull her through the door and into the hallway.
Once they’re in Peggy’s room she helps Angie into dry clothes and guides her to lie down in Peggy’s large bed. She quickly changes out of her own soaked gown and climbs in next to Angie, pulling her body so that Angie’s head rests over her heart. She hopes that Angie can feel the love that she has for her, whether in her warm arms or the steady beat of her heart.
Peggy hears Angie take a ragged deep breath, feels the way her arms wrap tight around her as her body begins to shake again with muffled sobs. “You are safe here. You will always be safe right here.” She tightens her hold on Angie’s body, one of her hands coming to rest at the back of her head. At some point, Angie cries herself into a fitful sleep.
When Peggy wakes several hours later it’s to empty arms, but Angie hasn’t moved far; she sits on the edge of the bed with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her fingers dig into the cotton of her nightgown and she takes deep, deliberate breaths.
“Angie?” Peggy whispers, afraid to reach out and touch her, should she startle Angie out of what is clearly a practiced method to calm herself.
Angie breathes out and in twice before she speaks, “They sent me to that place in 1940, two weeks after I turned 20. My brother followed me to The Howdy the night after my birthday.” Peggy sits up in the bed but doesn’t move closer. “When I got home they were all sitting in the living room, just staring at me. Like I wasn’t me, you know? My Ma was crying and my Pop was gripping his belt in his hand.”
Peggy doesn’t need Angie to elaborate; she can hear the anger in her voice at the mention of his belt.
“They wouldn’t talk to me. Or look at me. They didn’t look at me until my brother came home with a piece of paper saying that these people he was working for could fix me. And then they wouldn’t stop looking at me like I was broken, like they could see the cracks.”
Peggy stares at the way her back is straight and her hands rest near the scars of where Angie has tried to claw herself out of her own skin. Her hair falls in disheveled waves, hiding the scars just inside her hairline. Peggy doesn’t see cracks; she sees scars healed over and a woman trying to hold herself together. If there had been any cracks to begin with, Peggy is sure they’d have been filled with gold.
“When they came to get me, no one would touch me. No one in my family had touched me since I came home that night.” Peggy understands now, Angie’s need for human touch. She needs to know that she isn’t toxic, she isn’t a mistake, to be reassured that she’s there. That she belongs on this earth.
Angie doesn’t speak for a while, taking long and deep breaths. Her fingers flex against her body, like maybe they’re deciding to open new wounds or not.
“How long were you there?” Peggy asks quietly, still not moving from her place on the bed.
“Two years.”
Two years. Peggy thinks about the dates. Angie had been locked away for something she couldn’t change for two years.
“They started with little stuff. Therapy every day, showing me pictures of men, stuff I could handle. But then it got harder. They started hitting me when they didn’t like what I’d say. A few months in is when the electro therapy started.” Her voice is flat, like she’s reading a list of facts from a textbook. “Picture of a woman, shock. Picture of a woman, shock. Picture of a man, a drink of water. Picture of a woman, shock.” She repeats the pattern a few times until her voice trails off.
Peggy clenches her fists around the bed sheets. Her instinct is to run out the door and set fire to the building that created Angie’s nightmares. Instead she lets silent tears stream down her face.
“They let me go on December 20th, 1942. Said there wasn’t anything else they could do. Only I had nowhere else to go after that. My folks didn’t want me, and Christophe had been there the whole time, taking notes on my progress.” Angie is quiet again, letting the new information wash over Peggy. The only sounds in the room are Angie’s deep breaths and Peggy’s sniffles as she tries to compose herself. “I stayed at a few shelters while I worked and saved up enough to find a cheap place of my own. Never really stayed in one place too long, in case they came looking.”
While Peggy was moving up the ranks in the SSR and running covert operations, Angie was being stripped of her humanity. She’s been keeping these horrors locked away for five years, and Peggy doesn’t know how she hasn’t drowned in them.
“I’ll understand if you want me to go.” Peggy is shocked by the statement, but even more so, she’s heartbroken by it. That Angie could believe on any level that Peggy wouldn’t want her around because of something that is woven into her very being is maybe the worst thing she’s heard.
Peggy finally moves, climbing over the sheets and blankets to rest her body flush against Angie’s. She wraps her arms around her, holding her close even though Angie’s body stiffens at the contact. “I understand if this takes a while for you to believe,” Peggy’s voice is quiet but deliberate, “but there is nothing wrong with you. There never was. And I’d very much like for you to stay.”
Angie hangs her head, allowing her body to relax in Peggy’s arms. When Peggy feels the tears dripping onto her arms, she tightens her hold. “You are loved Angie. You are loved for being exactly who you are.”
“But I’m – ”
“You are kind. You are strong, forgiving, beautiful, and have the biggest heart of anyone I know. I am grateful for the place you have in my life. And I wouldn’t change anything about you. If I could take your demons away, I would. But I can promise you that I’ll be here to help you fight them.”
As Peggy settles the two of them back onto the bed, she’s mindful of how stiff Angie’s muscles are. She eases the two of them so that Angie’s body is tucked into Peggy’s side. Her arms wrapped tightly around her to keep her close. Angie’s warm breath steadies over Peggy’s collarbone as she falls into an exhausted and dreamless sleep.
One day she’ll tell Angie that she’s been falling in love with her since that first day at the L&L. But first she’ll help Angie learn to love herself.