Chapter Text
In the days following the Valkyrie's crash Peggy threw herself into her work, she couldn't be sad if she didn't have time to think about her loss. So Peggy found herself working from sun up to sundown with very little sleep in between. Philips has to order her to stop to take in sustenance, or else she would have starved away to nothing. She would surely work herself to exhaustion if she had her way, anything not to think.
So when she became ill, she convinced herself that it was simply work fatigue and elected to ignore it and continue working despite the fact that she was nauseous and could barely stomach the slop the army dared to call food.
Every morning she would wake up, promptly vomit into the nearest receptacle the moment her feet touched the floor, and then proceed to clean herself up, put on her make up like it was battle armor and head off to the mess tent for another unappetizing meal.
After about two months of this The Howling Commandos finally spoke up, Dugan expressed concern after she emptied the contents of her stomach behind a tree in Germany when the group was on assignment.
"You need to take it easy there, Peggy, you're making yourself sick." The mustachioed Commando said as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and slowly stood upright.
"Dugan, if I wanted your opinion, I would ask for it." Was the response she barked back irritably, part of her knew that his comment did not warrant such a response, but another part of her was too angry to care.
"It's not an opinion, Carter." Monty interjected, her countryman was looking at her with concern, "you're working yourself ragged, you need to slow down." Peggy scowled at the well meaning advice, and perched her hands on her hips.
"The lot of you need to learn to mind your own bloody business!" She snapped, "now let's get a move on and finish this job." Without another word she stormed off ahead of the group, ignoring how they watched her like hawks. She was fine, it was just fatigue for Christ's sake! At least that's what she told herself.
xxx
Not long after that mission Philips called Peggy into his office, the drab tent was always the same no matter where they moved, Philips' desk cluttered with papers and other debris. A map of the world with red pins stuck in it to mark the course of the war hung behind the desk, and a smaller desk that was always immaculate, with a typewriter placed on it for the corporal only feet away. As Peggy took her seat opposite of Philips she noted that the corporal was nowhere in sight, meaning that whatever Philips had to say was meant to stay between the two of them.
"So Dugan tells me that you're sick," Philips said without preamble, Peggy silently cursed Dugan and his big mouth.
"I can assure you, Colonel Philips I am perfectly fine, just a little fatigued as of late," Peggy said as calmly as she could. The look on Philips' face clearly said that he didn't buy it.
"Look Carter, we all know that you've had a rough time, but this has got to stop. You're working yourself to death, you're hardly eating and according to your team you're loosing your lunch all over the place." As he spoke, Philips turned his attention to an assortment of papers on his desk, but didn't give Peggy a chance to protest. "So here's what's going to happen,Carter. I am going to personally escort you down to the infirmary, and you're going to get yourself checked out, and then you're going home. You've served your country well, it's time you go home." Setting his pen aside, Philips stood and took ahold of Peggy's arm.
"Sir, this isn't nessacary!" Peggy's protests were ignored as she was led into the infirmary. It seemed as if Philips had warned the staff that they were coming, because no sooner where they inside, then Peggy was rushed into a secluded examination room by a nurse. Annoyed, Peggy answered all their questions. But then came the question of her last Menstral Cycle.
When had been the last time she'd had her monthly visit? Peggy had been so busy lately, she hadn't even thought about it.
Color drained from her face as the answer finally came to her.
"March..." Two months late, Peggy who was never late it was like a punch to the stomach. The exam continued, no one had to tell her what was wrong with her, Peggy already knew.
Two months earlier, Steve and Peggy had been separated from The Comandos on a mission and pinned down in a safe house for weeks while they waited for the gang to catch up. It had been a dull time at first, at least they had each other for company. But the longer they were alone together, the more comfortable they became, until finally they were sharing a bed, and spending the sweltering nights in each others arms.
Now, Steve was gone, but he had left Peggy with something to remember him by, She and Philips didn't speak as he escorted her back to her tent to pack her things and allowed her to say her goodbyes to The Howling Commandos, before driving her to the nearest airfeild to board a plane bound for London.
"Carter, for what it's worth, congratulations" Philips said as Peggy got out of the jeep to board the plane.
"Thank you, Sir."
"No, I mean it, it's not everyday that you find out that you're pregnant with America's new hope." Peggy placed a protective hand over her flat midsection, this child was her only living connection to it's father, Peggy refused to share it with an entire country, not only for her child's sake but for her own.
"Promise me, Philips, promise that you won't tell anyone about this child." Peggy said urgently, "I don't want to raise my baby in the spot light, please promise me."
"Alright, alright, I promise I won't say a word." Philps said, shutting the jeep off and getting out to gather Peggy's things. With Philips' word secured, Peggy exited the jeep and shook the Colonel's hand.
"Good luck, Carter."
"Thank you, Sir." And with that, Peggy collected her kit and boreded the plane.