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Michael hears the clamor. His tired muscles and achy bones sigh at the thought of more angry nazis coming to yell at them to work harder or faster, but he doesn’t complain.
Complaining means the worst job falls on your shoulders. And he doesn’t want that. So he waits, his other cell mates seeming to steel themselves for whatever is to come as well.
Then the shout is heard.
“Americans!”
And hell if he’s never been so happy to hear about their country’s traitorous colony.
He can now decipher the clamor as a fight as it gets closer. Then an explosion rocks the foundation and Michael rolls his eyes. Americans.
Then some man in a bowler hat is opening each cell, freeing them all and yelling at them to “grab any weapon they can find and follow him”. There’s a massive exodus out the side factory doors and into the cold brisk night.
Maybe a few tears escape his eyes.
Freedom does that to a man.
They go far enough away before turning back to watch the “show”.
“Who’s left?” He hears the bowler hat man ask a dark skinned man.
“Just Denier setting the last of the charges and Cap and Barnes making sure he’s covered.”
Bowler hat man nods and lets out a busting “wahoo” that would usually make Michael roll his eyes at the antics of their less behaved brethren. But this time, he feels the joy of being out of that factory and without thought he joins in, hundreds of men letting the air know that evil will not prevail.
———-
There’s no transports other than a few for the injured.
He learns quickly that they go into these missions blind, having no concept of what they’ll find. Sometimes it’s prisoners, sometimes it’s just manufacturing, supplies, or Hitler’s workers.
“Not Hitler,” a man corrects him. “You were in a Hydra factory. That’s Schmidt’s doing.”
“Who the bloody hell is Schmidt?” One of his cell mates asks.
“JoHann Schmidt,” a man says as if it’s a curse, “a vile human being who believes himself to be a god.”
Someone barks out a laugh. “Unbelievable how different they can be. Two very different sides of the same coin.”
Michael turns to the man, a Brit like himself, “what do you mean?”
“Rogers and Schmidt.”
Michael looks at him, “I don’t know what that means.”
“You heard of Captain America?”
There’s a long pause, “excuse me?”
The man laughs, “maybe you’ve been in captivity for longer than we thought.” He gestures to himself, “names Monty. I’m part of the Howling Commandos. I’m sure the frightful sound you heard last night gives you insight into why. We’re led by Captain Rogers, also known as Captain America. He didn’t pick the name mind you, and he’s enhanced.”
“Enhanced?” Someone asks the question he was about to.
“Yeah, the same scientist who was bullied into making Schmidt strong and fast and insane is the man who turned Rogers into Captain America. Except thankfully he’s sane.”
“For the most part,” a man says strolling by.
Monty laughs, “that’s Sergeant Barnes. Rogers’ second in command.”
Michael remembers the name from the night before. “So where are we headed?”
“A small encampment 2 miles west of here. We get you there, medical care to those who need it, and then shipped to either home or your next assignment.”
And a braver lad than he pipes up, “I want to go home.”
And instead of anyone laughing or mocking at him for what would usually be a childish sentiment, Monty nods sagely, “that’s what we’re working towards.”
—————
He meets the man a day later.
A tall and imposing man, wider than should be plausible and looking more American than Michael can fathom is possible.
“Rogers.” The man turns to his name and nods. “Scout shows possible movement. Delay or go round?”
Michael watches as the man surveys the camp. “Maybe we split,” Rogers’ offers. “We need to get some to medical as soon as possible, so we send the injured the long way around, but the rest who are healthy can stay back. If too big of a group goes they’ll be spotted.”
“And who decides who stays and who goes?” A Brit he remembers from the next cell over asks in a snippy tone, “you?”
And Michael feels the tension at the challenge. Though he can’t fathom why the man is challenging Rogers as he’s just led the charge that saved all of their lives.
But instead of rubbing that fact into the man’s face. Rogers inclines his head in a show of deference and gestures to the man, “anyone who feels like they need to go should go. No one will be denied.”
There’s a pause as they wait for the man to answer. But he seems to sag in relief as if worried he wouldn’t have been deemed injured enough. “Alright.” Is his only response.
And Rogers turns to his second in command, “you want to go? Or stay?”
“Send Denier—“
“Want him here for weapons.”
“Send Jones—“
“Language—“
“Morita—“
“Comms and—
“Dugan—“
The man in charge sighs, “Bucky, you can’t always be by my side. You gotta actually trust me.“
“You’re like a ticking time bomb when I’m away,” Barnes shoots back. “I don’t trust you alone.”
Rogers laughs, head tipped back and shoulders moving up and down, “you’re just saying that because I signed up to be a lab rat.”
“You didn’t even wait 24 hours!” Barnes snaps, “if I left now, who knows, maybe you go knocking on Schmidt’s door.”
The Captain grins, “that’s not a half bad idea—“
“So help me—“
“Calm down, geez, I’m just messing with you. But seriously. I’m going to send you and Monty with the wounded. Alright?”
Barnes sighs, rolling his eyes, “fine.”
“Hey, look at it this way, you get to flirt with cute nurses.”
Barnes cheers up considerably with that comment, and he lightly shoves Rogers’ shoulder. “That’s true, and they’d be wasted on you since you only got eyes for one dame.”
Rogers rolls his eyes but there’s a grin there. “You know why.”
“I know, I know, the right partner. Whatever, you two make me sick with all your ‘not’ interacting.”
Rogers laughs again but then he’s called away and Michael watches as Sergeant Barnes starts to prepare to take the wounded.
————
It takes about 6 days but he finally manages to make it back to civilization. Or at least a camp that has some form of actual showers.
He checks in and receives a surprised face when told he’d been marked as KIA.
“Well, I’m bloody alive, aren’t I?” He snaps at the stunned young man informing him he’s dead. “Better go correct it, lad.”
The boy, because he must be younger than 20, nods and takes off.
And then he decides he better write a letter home.
Mum, Dad, Peggy,
I’ve learned you’ve been notified that I was Killed in Action. I haven’t, although perhaps it was a close call there. Anywho, it’s less of a shock to tell you I’m alive than I’m sure it will be to hear it. But I hope to have leave soon so I can prove it to you all.
Pegs… I know we left on an off step. How’s Fred? I hope he’s treating you well. You have a date set for the wedding? I wouldn’t mind having some time off to attend if it can be managed.
I love you all,
Michael
————-
“I’m just saying that when we win this war, which we will,” Dugan is saying, “what do we do with the soldiers who are left on the opposing side?”
“Treat 'em like they treated those people in the camps.” Micheal hears someone say.
And while his head agrees with that, his heart knows that’s not right. But before he gets a chance, a throat clears and a deep voice, sure and true, that he recognizes by now responds, “we don’t treat them like they treated us, or those in the camps. But we show them the true nature of the damage they’ve done. We walk them through those camps and chambers. Pass the mass graves and the piles of belongings. They must sit and listen to the horrors they’ve caused by the people affected but them and know they had a hand in it. And then… when that is finished… we allow them to do better. To make right what they’ve wronged.”
People are somber, nodding in agreement. Of course everyone would want revenge. They’ve all seen first hand accounts of the horrors. But then they’d be no better.
“And if they refuse to learn?”
All eyes turn to Rogers who is holding a knife in his hands as he’s whittling something. He flips the knife eloquently before tossing it up and catching it deftly between two fingers. And his voice drops lower as he responds, “then they can talk to me.”
And Michael swears he feels a chill up his spine at the way those words sink into his bones.
————-
It’s with a slightly embarrassed eye roll that he finds himself drawn to the Captain. He’s not the only one. Wherever the guy goes there tends to be a gathering. At his table in the mess or around the fires at night.
Michael likes hearing him talk. Something about his nature is calming and balanced. He brings hope and a sense of vigor to the fight that Michael hasn’t felt since his first days at war.
He’s an unending source of strength. The Brit in him shakes a finger, but the young man still learning his place and who he wants to really be, listens intently.
He learns from an offhand joke that Rogers is Irish. He learns from another offhand joke that he’s an orphan, and from a whispered comment between the men that he has his eyes on one specific girl.
But no one ever dares say her name. Which Michael finds odd but respectful. No one talks about her in any shade of disrespect either. So she must be something or they fear Rogers’ wrath. Although the girl that Captain America has got his eye on has to be quite the lady, so he assumes the first.
——
He watches when Barnes gets back and does an over the top dramatic inspection to ensure Rogers is unharmed.
The man takes it with grace and a middle finger once Barnes’ inspection is complete.
“How’d you rank?” He asks Monty one day, “a bunch of Americans and you?”
“Don’t forget Denier.” Monty responds, “he’s French and he won’t let you forget it.” Michael nods as Monty gestures to Barnes, “you heard the story?”
He shakes his head no, “only that they’re friends.”
“Born and raised together, in New York. But Rogers can’t go to war, too sick, and Barnes gets shipped off. Well, Erskine does his magic—“ Monty wiggles his fingers, “and Rogers becomes this—“ he thumbs over to where the two are having a mild argument as per usual. “But after his stint in the USO, he gets overseas and learns that Barnes is MIA, most likely killed.”
Michael listens and Monty leans closer, “so Rogers asks to go rescue the rest of the 107th, even though his best friend is most likely dead and Colonel Phillips, that’s the guy in charge of the SSR who thought up the super soldier program with Erskine, tells Rogers to stick to his dance routine. But instead, Rogers flies with Howard Stark, you know, the billionaire, into enemy territory and drops into a Hydra factory all on his own. He frees all the prisoners—“ he gestures to himself and Michael's eyes widen in realization, “not only that, he rescues Barnes from what I’m pretty sure was a science lab, steals weapons, tanks, and anything else and then blows that factory to hell.”
He points out the Howling Commandos team. “Every single one of us was there that night. We would follow him to the ends of the earth after that. He earned it.”
Everything Michael has witnessed about the guy is confirmed by this story.
———
He wakes up to half the camp missing. “What’s going on?” He asks a passing soldier.
“Commandos got sent on mission. Rest of us are being shipped off to parts unknown.”
Michael sighs.
——
Thirteen days later, he’s gotten notice he’ll be sent home in a few days for a short leave, when he gets the surprise of his life.
He’s heading towards mess when he hears a “Michael, Michael!”
He turns to see his little sister, dressed in military garb and tearing towards him just as she’s done a thousand times in their childhood.
His surprise doesn’t overwhelm his brotherly instincts, throwing open his arms and bracing for her crashing into him, which she does.
He hears hoots and hollers and laughter, but he’s too busy hugging his little sister. Then he drops her on her heels and pulls back, “why look at you! For king and country, eh?”
She laughs, tears evident and he feels his own throat start to scratch. “Oh blast you for making us think you were dead!” She snaps at him.
He laughs at her mock anger and kisses her cheek.
“I’d never have done it on purpose, love. Now, tell me about all this—“ he gestures to her, “what happened? Where’s Freddy?” She grimaces and he gapes, grabbing her hand and seeing it’s ringless, “you’ve gone off him?”
She sighs and rolls her eyes, “after you died I decided you were right, for once—“ she smirks at him, “and I wanted to join up. But Freddy…”
Michael frowns, “wanted a housewife.”
“Indeed. And that was that. I was at Bletchley for a bit, and then been working in the science division.”
“My little sis.” Michael beams, “bet mom had a right fit.”
Peggy laughs, “oh, you’ve no idea. Just yesterday I got a letter asking if I was making sure my curls were set right. As if I’m a child!”
“She can’t help herself.” Michael responds with a grin, “Carter’s only accept perfection.” She laughs, “so no more Freddy, eh?” She huffs at him and he wraps his arm around her shoulder and starts walking her to the mess. “But now you’re in the army, plenty of blokes to choose from. Any you like?”
She glares at him, “is that all anyone ever thinks a woman thinks about for bloody sakes?? Marriage and men!”
He holds up his hands in surrender and laughs, “you were the one assuring me you were right to be engaged to Freddy.”
“Well.” She huffs, “I’m more grown up now.”
He snorts, “sure. So not a single man in the whole bloody army has caught your eye?” Peggy stays silent. “Ah-ha! I thought so! Come on, who is he?”
It’s a long suffering sigh but then she is grinning, “it’s awful, he’s American. ”
Michael really laughs now, hand on his stomach, head tipped back. “You know—” he thinks of the past couple weeks and has to admit that not all Americans are wild uncouth hoodlums, “you know, they’re not all bad.”
Her eyebrow raise is a surprised one. “Your opinion of them has changed, hmm?”
“A bit,” then a realization strikes. “Oh no, mum will hate it!”
“I know, that’s why I haven’t told them.”
He frowns, caught off guard on his own joke, “wait, it’s actually serious enough that you want to tell them?”
Her eyes light up and Michael is stunned, “yes, I’d like to. When the war is over he wants to take me dancing.”
Brotherly instincts rear their head, he knows what “dancing” means to a young dumb American. “Listen, Pegs, war takes an emotional toll, but you’ve got to be smart. Can’t be taking any bloke dancing.”
Her little sister defenses go up, he watches it happen, “he’s not just any bloke.”
“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”
“He’s—“ she looks torn, like she doesn’t want to say too much. “He’s special.”
“I think you thought the same of Fred—“
“He’s nothing like Fred!” She snaps, a bit more harsh than he expects, “he’s kind, and sweet, and considerate. He would never hold me back from wanting a career or if I wanted to stay in the military. He’s—“ her face softens, “one of a kind. Truly.”
And never has he seen Peggy defend a man so strongly, so he backs off, “what’s his name?”
She smiles, “Steve.”
He nods, “okay, we’ll I can’t wait to meet this Steve.”
————
It hits him the next day that his sister is more than just “in the science division”. Colonel Phillips appears and she’s at his side, along with that billionaire Monty was talking about.
He tries to listen as they pass by, Peggy throwing him a smile, something about another successful factory exploded, and it hits him that she may know Rogers.
He resolves to ask about it later.
————-
That evening a plane comes in and he sees Monty.
“Falsworth! You’re back!”
“Indeed.” The man says with a grin, “and another Hydra factory wiped form the face of the planet.”
“A job well done then!”
“As usual.” The Brit jokes back, “how has camp been? I hear Phillips beat us back this time. Always makes camp itchy.”
Michael shrugs, “it’s fine. Actually, there’s someone I want you to meet, or maybe you already know her.”
“Her? Already picked up a lady, eh?”
Michael laughs, “no, no, it’s my sister. she works with Phillips.”
Suddenly he’s been yanked backwards. He turns to see Monty’s face is agape, eyes wide and mouth open. Hand clenching the back of his sleeve.
“What is it?”
“What is your last name?”
“Carter.” He says, “didn’t I say that already?”
And the man starts a choking laugh, “oh hell, oh hell!”
“What, what is it!”
“Come now, you’re having me on!”
“About what?”
“You’re Agent Carter’s brother?”
“Agent?”
“Oh hell!” Monty shouts again, “bless the Lord Almighty above and His bountiful sense of humor! Come on!” Then Michael is being yanked forward to who knows where.
————-
They approach a group of men that Michael soon realizes is the rest of the commandos save the lead two.
“Gentlemen!”
They turn and say their hellos.
“You all remember Private Carter.”
They nod and Michael nods back still confused.
“Now,” Monty says with extra pomp. “It’s a very common last name, and no one should be ashamed for missing the connection. But whomst among us knows another, much more dangerous, Carter?”
Michael’s brow furrows but the commandos each blink and their eyes light up one by one.
“You’re Agent Carter’s brother!” Dugan is guffawing, loud and clear.
“I am,” he turns to Monty, “you know her?”
The group starts to laugh, not a mocking laugh but a humored one of disbelief.
“What’s the joke?”
They turn to see Peggy standing there, hand on her hip.
“No one say a word!” Is Monty’s quick response.
Peggy walks forward, joining their circle, “Michael, you know all these ruffians?”
Michael nods, “of course, these are the men who—“
“Nothing!” Jones jumps in, “who nothing.” He gives Michael the slice across the neck to stop talking, which he does but his sister sees.
“Men who did what Michael?”
“We have no idea what you’re referring to.” Morita jumps in, “we’ve only met just now.”
Peggy’s eyes narrow. “You’re all terrible liars.” She turns to him, “Michael, if you don’t explain this instant then I’ll tell everyone about that holiday when you were eight—“
Michael makes a coughing grumbling sound to cut her off, “okay, that’s enough!”
He stares at the commandos who now look desperate for him to stay silent, and his sister who looks deadly. He can’t decide who to turn on when he’s saved at the last second.
“Agent Carter!”
They both turn to see Phillips in the distance, “Stark is ready, let’s go!”
Peggy turns to all of them, “I’m not finished with this conversation. Don’t you dare disappear like cowards.”
As she disappears, Dugan raises a hand. “I vote to disappear like cowards.”
“Same,” the commandos echo, and they all head towards the edge of camp.
When they arrive Michael looks at all of them, “explain why I might incur the wrath of my sister?”
Jones points, “wow, they even glare the same. How did we miss that?”
“How do you all know how my sister glares?”
“Like I explained,” Monty says, “the commandos work under Phillips and Agent Carter works for Phillips, so we’ve crossed paths.”
There’s more they’re not saying, he can tell. “But why can’t she know you guys rescued me?”
“Officially?” Dugan sighs, “because we weren’t supposed to be there. “We were supposed to be 6 miles north not risking our own mission to help with that factory overhaul. It was supposed to be a supply factory. But at the last minute it was decided—“
“By Cap.”
Dugan grins, “by Cap, that we would go help just in case. And turns out he was right. The amount of prisoners in that factory was double what we’ve seen before.”
“What was the mission you abondoned?”
“We didn’t abandon it.” Jones says, “Cap took care of it that same night after. He caught up with us by morning.”
Michael frowns, “and that’s bad? Wouldn’t they be happy that both missions were successful?”
Monty grimaces but Morita speaks up, “Phillips gives the commandos a lot of leeway. As long as he’s not aware about it. He told us that we keep it to ourselves. If he knows about us going off book or off mission then he has to report. And if Carter knows she has to report to Phillips. Which is why neither of them should know.”
“Which,” Denier says with his strongly accented English, “now that we know you are her brother is a damn shame.” They all glare at him and he raises his hands in surrender, “I am just saying. She would be thrilled.” He grins, “grateful even.”
“I’m still lost,” Michael responds, “what aren’t you telling me?” The commandos look at each other and there’s an amusement there but also a hesitation. “What?”
Then Dugan shakes his head, “can’t do it. But you know who can? Barnes.”
————
Michael searches for the sergeant far and wide but he’s not to be found. In fact all the commandos disappear within the next hour and he has a sneaking suspicion that another “not-sanctioned” mission has occurred.
“Micheal!”
He turns to see Peggy, waving him over. He strides towards them and she leads him to the command tent, which makes him nervous and impressed all at once.
“Michael, this is Colonel Phillips, my boss.”
They shake hands and Michael gently ribs his sister, “hope she’s been behaving sir. She was a wild one as a kid.” Peggy scoffs and rolls her eyes.
Phillips only shows the barest hint of amusement but it is there. “It’s probably one of the reasons she was picked by Erskine originally.” Phillips answers. “And she’s gotten our men out of a lot of scrapes so I think it’s served us well.”
“Well then I’m glad,” Michael responds, “our mother would throw a right fit but I’m all in favor.”
“There’s many things mother can never know,” Peggy says seriously, but her smirk is barely hidden, “we’ll have more secrets than I unburied at Bletchley.”
Phillips gets called away and they walk back out towards the main encampment.
“So what are you up to now?” Michael asks, looking about, “is there more science things you have to get up to?”
Peggy rolls her eyes but she’s still in a good mood, “don’t try to change the subject. I still want to ask how you know the team.”
“Team?”
“The commandos.”
“Ah,” he wrinkles his nose, “they said it has to do with the chain of command, Pegs. Not about keeping it a secret from you but if you know then Phillips knows and—“
Her hand reaches out and stops him. He looks at her in confusion but her face is aghast. “They were there.”
“What?”
Her eyes are wide in disbelief, “oh my heavens they were there!” She’s too smart for her own good, “they helped rescue you—“her face is going pale, “didn’t they? And they didn’t even—“ she throws up her hands and turns on him, “what did they tell you!”
Now he is genuinely confused, “Tell me?”
“About me!”
He frowns, “nothing. They didn’t even know we were siblings til yesterday, that’s when you approached us, they’d just found out.” Then he gets worried that he’ll be the one who will have spilled the beans, “don’t tell Phillips. They said he’s not to know they were there.”
She waves him away and paces in a circle, “then he’ll know. Or—“ her head tilts in thought, “they might not have told him. For laughs.”
“Laughs?”
She turns to him and grimaces, “what did you think? Of Captain Rogers?”
“So you do know him? I wondered.”
She’s pinching the bridge of his nose. “I work for Erskine and Phillips. I was there when he was created.”
Michael shakes his head, “my little sis is full of surprises. What else don’t I know about you?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Which one?”
“What you thought of Captain Rogers?”
“I mean, he’s great. Good man. Saw him lead and was very impressed. For an Americ—“ his voice trails off and Peggy looks guilty. “He’s American.”
She sighs. “Captain Steven Rogers is indeed American.”
Steven.
Steve.
“Holy hell in a hand basket, Margaret!”
“I know!” She cries out, looking as distressed about it as he is surprised, “I didn’t mean—“ she huffs, “I mean, I never expected—“
“My little sister is chummy with Captain Bloody America!”
“We’re not chummy! He just…”
And a previous comment enters his mind.
“The Right Partner.”
Her eyes widen, “what did you say?”
“I heard Barnes mention that Rogers only had eyes for one dame. His Right Partner.”
Her face softens and he’s shocked to see a vulnerable happiness there, “I told you. He wants to take me dancing.”
And maybe for everyone else he’d hesitate, like he had before. But knowing who Captain Rogers’ is… he’s not worried.
“Mum will still throw a fit.”
Peggy grins, now open and smiling, “I’m planning on it. But Steve doesn’t scare easy. And he tends to win people over.”
“Just promise me I can be there when they meet.”
She laughs out loud and nudges his shoulder, “the war has to end first.”
“Can’t come soon enough.”
————-
Michael has to wait a while to meet Rogers since he’s delayed and Peggy is taken by Phillips for another mission.
He receives his small leave which is filled with tears and catching up. He keeps silent to his parents about Peggy and Steve as he’s still in the dark about most of it.
Then he’s offered a choice. He can go back into action, transfer to intelligence (an option he’s sure Peggy arranged) or he can be honorably discharged because of his imprisonment. He’s not sure if every lad is given the choice. Or if it’s because he has connections…
And while being home sounds heavenly, he knows his conscience won’t let him rest. So he chooses the option that is middle ground. Military intelligence.
He’s positioned in the underground bunker in London and he gets to work immediately.
Correspondence between him and Peggy continues as often as possible and before he knows it, a month and a half has passed since he’s seen her. The realities of war he supposes.
But then he sees Morita walking around the mess and he grins, walking over to the man, “Morita! How’ve things been?”
“Lots of explosions.” The man says tiredly, “how are things in the cozy underground bunker.”
“Now, now, haven’t I earned it, being a prisoner of war and all that?” And Morita’s flat expression makes him remember, “oh yes… you’ve known the same treatment, I forgot.”
“I get it.” Morita says with grace, “people only see the team and forget how we were formed.”
“Speaking of your team,” Michael asks, “is your fearless leader here?”
“Cap?” The man nods, “yeah, he’s here.”
“He know I’m related to her yet?”
Morita grins, “hell no. We haven’t told him. Where would be the fun in that?”
And Michael grins back, “excellent.”
————
He’s surprised to see Peggy first, looking exasperated as a man with a mustache talks at her, his hand’s gesticulating wildly.
“Pegs!” He calls, walking over, “you’re here.”
She smiles, “I am, how have you been liking the bunker?”
“Cozier than a tent.”
The man eyes him, “and who is this?”
“I’m Michael Carter.” He introduces himself, “Pegs older brother.”
“Ah, nice to meet another Brit as crazy as us Americans I hope. Howard Stark, nice to meet you.”
Michael blink, “Stark. The weapons man?”
The grin he gets is wide, “indeed, pal. In the flesh.”
“Pleasure. I heard you flew Captain Rogers into enemy territory against orders. An impressive feat.”
Howard tilts his head, “well, you know it was your lil’ sis who talked me into it. She was determined that Rogers knew what he was doing. I was just along for the ride.”
Michael looks to Peggy who is decidedly looking at the ceiling. “You were the one who convinced him?”
“Not only that.” Howard continues, “she returned fire when we started getting shot at. What a sight she was.”
He blinks and his head swivels slowly back to Peggy, “excuse me?” She’s looking pinched about the mouth. “You were on that plane?”
“I wasn’t about to let two idiots go alone.” She sighs, “someone with some sense had to go.”
Howard laughs as if her calling him an idiot is a normal occurrence, which he has a feeling it is.
“Come on.” Howard waves them forward, “the mess awaits and I want first dibs on the coffee.”
———-
And just the man he’s been wanting to see is sitting at a table, looking tired and worn out with a huge plate of food in front of him.
“Wow,” Michael breathes out, “is he allowed that many portions because he’s Captain America?”
“His metabolism is 4x faster than a normal human’s.” Howard answers, “he needs that much to keep his strength up. Although he can go a few weeks without eating.”
He frowns, “how did you figure that out?”
Peggy looks flat faced and he recognizes that expression. Something unpleasant is on her mind.
Howard makes a large sigh and shrugs, “some things you find out by accident.”
“Ah…” Michael breathes out, “I see.”
“I need to speak to Phillips.” Peggy says suddenly, “I’ll meet up with you later?” Then she’s kissing his cheek and walking away. And Michael rolls his eyes.
“Coward!” He shouts at her retreating back.
She makes an unflattering gesture without turning around and Howard laughs. “You’re the only person on planet earth who can get away with calling her that.”
Michael grins, “what else is family for?”
“I’m grabbing coffee, you want anything?”
“No thanks.” Michael answers, “I want to talk to Captain.”
“Give him the big brother talk, huh?”
Michael grins, “I’m not sure he’s aware I’m her older brother.”
Howard’s eyes light up, “really? You gotta make him sweat then. He’s a hoot when he’s all flustered.”
“Oh is he?”
“You should have seen him after the Lorraine incident.”
“Lorraine?”
Howard wrinkles his nose, “I’m not going to be the one to tell. Ask Pegs, or better yet, ask Rogers. But not right away. Probably still a touchy subject. Just go cause trouble.” Howard says with a wink, “it will make everyone’s day.”
Then he’s off flirting with the woman pouring coffee and Michael walks towards Rogers. The man is eating slowly, looking a bit pained.
“Captain.” He says with a smile, “good to see you again.”
The man looks up and he smiles, “Private Carter, good to see you. How have you been?”
“Wonderful.” He answers. It’s curious to him that the man knows his last name and doesn’t make the connection. It is a relatively common last name. “London is a bit of home even if it’s bombed to bits. How’s the field?”
And Michael watches a tiredness in Rogers’ features. “It’s what it always is, I suppose. Humans forgetting we should all be on the same side. I don’t know how people can treat each other this way.” He gestures to Michael. “You know better than I. You were in one of those factories.”
“You mind if I sit?”
Rogers gestures to the chair across, “of course.”
He settles and leans back, studying the man, “I find it fascinating your unending faith that humans could possibly agree on anything.”
“I believe that all people want to be free. We agree on that. But sadly it isn’t being treated like a right. People decide they’re better or more…” he shrugs, “whatever has convinced them that they need to oppress others to feel powerful. And it’s a cycle. If everyone knew what it felt like to be loved, safe, and secure then maybe people wouldn’t lash out like this. Wouldn’t search for power. Sadly…” the man sets his fork down and leans back, wincing as he does so, “we’re not there yet.”
“And what are you going to do when the war ends?” It’s a loaded question but Rogers doesn’t know that.
“I’m going to do the best I can to still be an example.”
“You’ll stay in the military?”
The man responds slowly. “I’m owned by the SSR, so I’m sure they’ll keep me busy—“
“Owned?”
The man nods, “proprietary property.”
“Surely you can’t be serious. You’re a human being.”
“Not according to the SSR.” The man gives a tired grin, “but it’s fine. I signed up for this. It gave me a new life. I won’t complain. And as long as I’m still doing good in the world, then I’ll be fine.”
“That’s what Barnes was saying. You signed up to be a lab rat.”
“He’s a bit dramatic about it, but essentially yes. It was the only way I could fight. I had to do what I had to do.”
“So…” again he’s pressing into sensitive territory, not that Rogers is aware, “you don’t want to be a family man? There’s no girl in your future?”
And he watches as a grin, not salacious or vulgar, but soft and genuine, “there’s a girl.”
“Oh?” He pretends to not know, “and she must be something special to catch Captain America’s eye.”
The man grimaces, “thankfully she knew me before all this—“ he gestures to his body, “but yes, she is something special. Not a woman around like her.”
Michael is glad to hear he thinks that.
“She okay with you being owned by the SSR?”
“She’ll understand.” He says confidently, “I’ll think she’ll want to keep working after the war too.”
“Ah, you’re alright with a working woman, are you?”
Steve’s brow furrows, “my ma was a nurse. Worked every day of her life. She loved it even though it was hard work. If a woman wants to work, I have no problem with that.”
Michael leans forward, “but what if there’s little tots to be had?”
Confusion crosses Steve’s face like he’s starting to be unsure about why he’s being interrogated. “Kids aren’t a guarantee. I don’t even know if I can have them. But if she wants them, and I can, then I’m happy to take care of them if she wants to work.”
Michael blinks. The answer completely surprising him. “You’d stay at home?”
Steve nods, grabbing his fork and starting to eat again, “if there’s kids in the picture then the SSR would have to deal with that. I won’t let them take me away from home.”
“No, I mean… you instead of her?”
“Parenting isn’t just a woman’s work.” The man responds with a bit of a bite to it. “I think men need to start pulling more of their share at home.”
A progressive then. No wonder Peggy’s was enthralled.
“But you’re Captain America.” He says, almost more of a test than an actual belief.
The frown returns, “hopefully not after the war. I would like to be just Steve Rogers. Even if I still have to work for them.”
“Well,” Michael says with a smile, “I’m happy to hear it.” Then Michael stands and salutes before the man can respond or ask what it was all about.
Then he leaves to go find that little sister of his.
————
“I can see why you like him.”
Peggy turns around and catches him over her shoulder, “what are you doing?” She asks, “this is the women’s floor!”
“Yeah but I had to find you.”
She pulls him down a hallway and into what he assumes is her room.
“Michael,” she looks tired. Whether of him or from the day, he’s not sure. “I’m glad you approve. But this is too much.”
“Had to see how the other half lives.” He looks around her room. It’s the same size as his but she doesn’t have a roommate. “Only one bed?”
Peggy kicks off her heels and starts unpinning her hair, “I deal with too many classified details. A roommate is a possible leak.”
“Ah, I see.” He looks at her wall and sees pictures of home pinned up. One of him and her as he went off to university and she was still in 6th year. He can see letters stacked neatly and the top letter has handwriting he doesn’t recognize.
But it says:
Peggy
Instinct tells him to snatch it and he does, slipping the paper out deftly as she whirls around to see what he’s done.
“Oh Micheal.” She huffs in annoyance as she reaches for the paper, “can you not be so nosy!” They play a game of cat and mouse for a second, and then manages to get ahold of the edge, starting to pull it out of his grasp. He tightens his grip and the paper has no choice but to rip, tearing in two.
He stares at it and she turns on him, snatching the other half. Before tossing them onto her bed and whipping around to stab him in the chest with a finger. “Now you listen here you little prat!” He takes a step back, “I’m not the little girl you left behind. Yes, I was foolish then. But the minute I learnt you were dead I had to grow up and quick. And I have. Now I’m eternally grateful you aren’t dead, but that doesn’t mean I’ll allow myself to fall back into childish antics. My life, specifically my love live, is none of your damn business! Perhaps it is of your concern, but don’t overstep. You’re my brother Michael, and I love you, but I don’t need or want your protection. Understood?”
Michael looks down at his little sister’s deadly serious face and he sees that she’s right. She has grown and changed. “I just want to make sure he loves you as you deserve to be loved.” He responds softly, “and… I’ll admit I love to tease you, but I do trust you, you know. I just… I want to be included. You were so secretive with Freddy, and I don’t want that again.”
“I’m much more likely to include you if you just bloody ask.” Peggy says with a sigh, sitting on her bed and carefully refolding the letter that’s now in two pieces.
“Alright.” Michael concedes, “tell me how you met.”
She pats the bed next to her and he sits, leaning against the wall. “It all started over a year ago when I was in New York.”
“New York!”
“Yes, Brooklyn, now hush—“
———-
He’s not sure what time it is when he slips up and out of her room. He makes it back to his room quickly and sleeps like the dead.
———-
He’s having breakfast with her when a booming voice cuts through the mess.
“Agent Carter, my office!”
She’s gone in a wink and he continues eating, unbothered.
“Tell me it was you.”
He turns to see Monty sitting beside him at the table.
“Me what?”
“Coming out of Carter’s room last night? Tell me you were havin’ a sort or brotherly sister talk late at night.”
Michael frowns, “we were, how do you know?”
“Oh blessed be,” Monty says with a sigh of relief.
“Wait, how do you know that?”
“We didn’t. All we heard was there was a man exiting Carter’s room too late to be decent. Not that many men are in those corridors anyways. And those usually maintenance, but when we heard, I hoped it was you.”
“Who’s we?” He asks warily.
Monty nods solemnly, “the Captain has indeed heard. He was mighty somber this morning. But we still haven’t told him about your relation to the Agent. Especially since I didn’t know for sure it was you comin’ out of ‘er room. Maybe go brighten his day, yes?”
Michael nods, stands up, breakfast forgotten. “Of course.”
———
He finds Peggy first, fuming and red faced. “Now look what you’ve done!” She snaps, “having to explain to Phillips that it was my imbecilic brother in my room and that I’m not a risk for workplace liaisons!” She smacks his arms, “you better—“
The far door opens and Captain Rogers is walking through with Sergeant Barnes beside him. The man indeed does look somber and sad. Peggy stiffens even though they haven’t been spotted yet.
“I’ll explain.” Michael offers in a whisper, “he doesn’t know I’m your brother.”
She looks at him, confused, “what? I thought you introduced yourself yesterday?”
“No, just a light interrogation.” He grins, “come on, let’s go cheer the lad up, shall we?”
He grabs her hand and pulls her towards the two, who sense their approach and look up.
Michael observes the fact that Steve doesn’t even glance at his face. Just at their clasped hands and then briefly to Agent Carter before his eyes go back to the paperwork in his hands, a somber and reserved expression.
“Agent Carter.” The Captain says softly. Still with respect even though he must be upset.
“Captain Rogers—“ she starts, looking a bit unsure.
“Hey, I know you.” Barnes says, “you were—“ his voice cuts off and his eyes flick to Carter and he looks awkward as he realizes he doesn’t want to say anything about the factory rescue.
“It’s Michael.” He offers. “Nice to see you again. Captain?”
The man looks up, and pauses, recognizing him now that he’s taking the time to actually look.
“Private Carter.”
Michael kids with a grin, “that’s right. Michael Carter. Older brother to this little one right here.”
Peggy scoffs but she’s watching Steve’s expression go from confused to surprised.
“Michael,” he says in disbelief, “I thought you said—“ Steve looks at Peggy and she smiles softly.
“We all thought he was Killed in Action. Turns out it wasn’t quite so serious, I have mum’s many prayers to thank for that. And now I have my older brother back.” She reaches out, resting a hand on his, “thanks to you. I know the commandos were there. And don’t worry about Phillips. He’s not aware.”
Steve’s looking at her hand on his and Michael decides to be nice. “And I was the chap coming out of her room last night. So if you happen to hear any nasty rumors about such nonsense, you’ll know the truth.”
“Oh.” Steve says, his countenance changing almost immediately. And then he’s nodding, relief on his face, “so you’re stationed here in London now?”
Michael nods in return, “indeed, thankfully helping keep you gentlemen safe in the field with our intel.”
“I’m sure you are.” Steve responds but he’s still looking at Peggy’s hand which is still resting on his.
Peggy seems to realize the fact as she pulls it away and puts them behind her back, “well, we should let you gentlemen be off.”
“Hopefully see you gentlemen around,” Michael adds as they start to walk towards wherever their original destination was. He can see the relief in Steve’s posture. “Maybe in Hampstead, hmm?” He calls.
“Oh, shush!” Peggy smacks his arm, “stop poking, you’re incorrigible.”
Michael grins, “careful, you’re starting to sound like mum.”
She glares at him and stomps off and he follows, laughing the whole time.
——————