thecapitol | if you want to get out alive run for your life

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if you want to get out alive run for your life

Who| Peggy Carter and Derek Souza
What| Derek overhears Peacekeepers talking and gives Peggy a warning
Where| Peggy's apartment in the Capitol
When| early-mid September
Warnings/Notes| talk of executions, will update as needed

Most Peacekeepers don't usually pay him much attention, when he's around. Some of them will watch him warily, as if they're not sure that he isn't just going to randomly lunge after some innocent passerby, but most of them don't bother to check to make sure he's out of earshot before they talk amongst each other.

And fortunately for him, Derek's hearing is pretty damn good.

It's no surprise when he overhears a pair of Peacekeepers talking about coming for Linden, after the broadcast that made its way around the training center, but the shock comes when he hears Peggy's name included. At first he thinks he must have heard wrong, because Peggy isn't stupid, she wouldn't -

But he can't finish that thought. She would, he knows her well enough after all these years to have seen that in her. To know that neither of them are nearly as loyal to the Capitol as they pretend to be, and to know that Peggy doesn't have a reason to be the Capitol's puppet the same way he does. It doesn't surprise him that she turned to the rebellion.

He still thinks it's stupid, and he should just let it go. He should just go back to the District 4 suite, and let whatever consequences are coming Peggy's way happen. But... she called him her friend. He doesn't want the next execution he sees to be hers.

So instead he finds himself heading to her apartment - it's not the first time he's been here, book in hand, looking to spend an hour away from the training center - and from outward appearances, there's nothing different. But he's tenser than he normally is, as he knocks on her door and calls out her name.

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"Give me a moment."

Peggy is making herself lunch, having decided take a breather for the day while the D10 Stylist wrestled her girls into measurements and forced them to sit through tailoring and concept art and all that sort of thing. The smell of cooking meat and baking bread mixes in her apartment as she covers her pots and walks to the front door.

When she swings it open, her eyes go up in mild surprise, but she still greets him with a bright smile that lacks the fakeness of the smiles she wears in public. "Hello, Derek." Since the arena, she's been far more liberal with her expressions of affection when they're in private. She'll even go as far as lean against him if they're alone and it doesn't seem to bother him too much. She had thought that she'd never see him or Chuck again, and that makes her want to be more open with them. "Lucky you, you're just in time to share lunch with me. I've made too much for just myself."

Derek gives a grunt in response, the corners of his lips turning up in the barest hint of a smile. "Smells good," he mutters as he heads inside.

He doesn't have to say anything. He could just stay to eat lunch with her, let her lean against him and talk books while he's very careful not to let on too much that he likes the contact, careful not to do anything that could even seem like he's grabbing her. It's been different since the arena, like it's been different with Chuck - but even if he's no less confused by this different, he likes it more. As long as he doesn't have to talk about it, he's content to lean against her while they read.

And he knows as soon as the door closes that he's not just going to pretend like everything is normal. He'd known as soon as she smiled at him like that, reminded him why he hadn't just ignored what he heard.

Derek's excellent at keeping himself in control, at making sure the only reactions and expressions he shows are the ones he's willing to let the whole Capitol see, but there's a flicker of fear in his eyes right now that someone who's known him as long as Peggy has will probably be able to pick up on.

He's absolutely terrified right now.

But he reaches out anyway, gently taking her arm to try to tug her in close, hoping she'll go with it and not pull away from him. It's the first time he's ever initiated contact like this, and that in itself is concerning enough, let alone what he's trying to figure out how to say.

"I try." It's always nice to see him smile. She looks forward to their meetings because it's nice to be able to be close with him and tease and talk and get him to smile without worrying about someone walking in. She's ready to lead him to her kitchen table and chat about whatever book he brought with him while she takes out the food, but then she sees his eyes.

There's fear. He's really, really scared of something, and she's never seen him express it like that outside of the arena. Her first thought is that he's in trouble somehow, that he needs something. The way he reaches for her (and damn, she wishes that the first time he touches her wasn't when something ambiguously wrong was happening) reinforces her suspicions.

She keeps her expression relaxed from many long years of practice and allows him to pull her in like this is nothing unusual, even though it really is. His hand on her arm makes her skin tingle, but for once not in the terrible way most unsolicited touching does.

"If you wanted me close, you just had to say so," she says softly, dropping her voice low and allowing her eyelids to halfway close. She rests her arm on his shoulder and goes on tiptoes until her mouth is at his ear, her hair falling in front of her face and obscuring her lips as she whispers, "My bedroom isn't bugged. If we need the privacy, you should probably look more excited and take me there."

Many powerful people use Peggy's bedroom, and they pulled strings when she petitioned to have any surveillance removed from there and her bathroom. The idea of faking a tryst for privacy doesn't faze her because she's used to it, and it doesn't occur to her that it might bother Derek.

There's relief when she allows herself to be pulled in like this is normal, and even more so when she goes up on tiptoe so they can talk more quietly.

And then she keeps talking, and Derek's fear takes a different turn.

He flinches, and very nearly recoils entirely from her, but he's got himself too much under control at the moment to do anything that violent. Derek thinks about refusing, but he's in too far now. She knows there's something wrong, and he couldn't live with himself if he left now without telling her.

It's not like he doesn't know how to do this. He's experimented before, and he knows how to fake interest and pretend he's invested in someone else while he's really trying to remember training schedules or doing calculations in his head. But this is different. Derek never gave a crap about any of them, they were all only a way for him to try to learn something before he realized he had no interest in it and gave up.

He gives a crap about Peggy, or else he wouldn't be here.

Derek leans in to press a kiss to Peggy's forehead, then slides his arms around her waist and picks her up. He's gentle, way more gentle than someone carrying his lover to the bedroom in a heat of passion probably should be, but he can't get the memory of Anna pinned by a rusted pipe through her shoulder because he didn't realize how hard he'd thrown her out of his head. He can't take a risk like that with Peggy.

She feels him flinch, and for a moment, she's worried that she's overstepped herself. But what else can they do? There's nothing subtle to just marching to a bedroom in silence and staying in there quietly for a while. There's even less subtlety to quietly marching to a bathroom and staying there. The only reason two people would decide to suddenly lock themselves up in a bedroom for an extended period of time is to have sex, so it's better to pretend that that's what they're doing.

This has to be the most they've ever touched each other. His lips leave a warm imprint on her skin and she lets out a surprised but deliberately delighted noise when he picks her up. His hands are too gentle for the act, but she finds that it's pleasant anyway. She's not used to being handled kindly like this. He isn't as good at acting this out as she is, but that's okay because she can sell it for them both. She hooks her ankles around his waist and grins at him before resting a hand on the back of his neck and kissing his cheek. The lips would have been more convincing, but she doesn't want to make this any harder on him than she has to.

Once they get to her bedroom door, she opens it with one hand and allows him to carry her in before shutting it. Her bedroom is very plain compared to most Capitol bedrooms--warm colors, standard furniture, and minimal decoration. She listens for any disturbance in the other rooms before smoothing the hair she mussed on his head to sell it, not bothering to try to squirm out of his grip until he moves to put her down. "As much as I don't want to spoil the mood," she teases because it's how she's used to dealing with it, diffusing awkwardness by taking it apart, "I have to ask what's wrong."

There's nothing else they can do, and that's the only reason that he goes along with this. It ramps up his unease, having her in his arms like this when he usually tries so hard to avoid this much contact with her. With anyone, and for damn good reason.

But desperate times, and his preoccupation with what he's going to do, and the possible consequences, is more than enough to keep him flushing at the kiss the way that he might have if it was unprovoked.

Even when he puts her down, he doesn't let go of her quite yet. It's not really a hold on her, more gently keeping his hands on her hips as he leans in to rest his forehead against hers. He trusts her when she says that there's no surveillance here, but he still wants to keep their conversation as quiet as possible.

And - it's helping him stay in control. All he knows is violence, but when he forces himself to stay gentle so he doesn't hurt her, it forces him to stay calm despite what he's here to do.

"You're not safe here," he mutters, his voice a low growl. "You need to get out."

He honestly doesn't know where - he just knows she can't stay here.

There really must be something wrong, because this is practically clinging for him. The intimacy is surprising, but not unpleasant, which is a change from how she usually feels about people getting to handsy. She allows him to rest their foreheads together, her eyelids drooping despite herself.

To help keep him calm, she reaches up and gently cups his face in her hands. She thinks she could get used to this kind of closeness, if only it didn't come from some kind of ambiguous crisis.

Then he tells her why he's here. Her eyes snap open fully and color drains from her face. Shit. Shit shit shit--

No, Peggy, don't jump to conclusions. An angry Capitolite might have taken a hit out on her for sleeping with their spouse or some nonsense like that. That's the sort of thing that can be dealt with. Her skin feels cold, but she gently runs her thumb against Derek's cheekbone anyway, forcing herself to stay calm. "What makes you say that?"

He's still as a statue under her touch, unease obvious. There's a part of him that wants to relax into her, to give into the contact that he never lets himself get, but he can't. There's a good reason that he doesn't, and right now there's more than that, that has him uneasy.

And there it is. Maybe he thought he was in too far to go back before, but he definitely is now. He's signing himself a traitor more with every word, and the more he talks, the more he wishes he could take it back, that he'd never come here.

But the alternative is signing Peggy's death warrant, and he can't be a part of that.

"Heard Peacekeepers talking. They know where your loyalties are."

Her heart stops. The world seems far away. The Peacekeepers know. They know, and they're going to come and kill her.

"Fuck."

She has to burn Bucky's letters. Then she has to run. If it looks like she's going to be caught, she needs to kill herself. She can't let them use her to take down any of her contacts, any of her friends, and--

And Derek has just risked everything by coming to her. His life, but more importantly to him, Chuck. The Capitol would not hesitate to destroy him and everything he loves for warning her. She can't let him be implicated in this.

"We're going to stay in here for a while. Then we're going to go to my kitchen, have lunch, and talk a little about the book you brought. Then you'll go about your business, and I'll go about mine." Her voice shakes when she begins, but it evens out, her hands still on his face even though she should probably move them away. "They won't know what you did."

She will kill herself if it looks like they'll get her when she runs, is what she doesn't say. She won't be a hostage or a source or an avox. She's scared, so scared, but she's made her bed and it's time to lie in it.

Fuck is pretty much where Derek's at right now, too. He knows exactly what kind of danger he's putting himself in here, and he knows that after this, it'll be over. He'll have to do everything the Capitol wants, more than he normally does, he'll have to make sure there's nothing they can ever catch him at again.

If he pulls this off it will be a miracle, and Derek will take it for what it is and never fuck up again.

He lets out a slow breath when she says that. They're both smart enough to know what Peggy might have to do, to keep a promise like that, and Derek trusts her to keep it. He hopes with everything that it won't come down to that, because he will be fucking pissed if he risked all of this just to end up with her dead anyway, but it's still better than the alternative.

Derek should let go, too, but he doesn't. He mirrors her, gently resting one scarred and rough hand against her cheek. It's the best he can do, to try to give her comfort. He can't lie. It's not going to be okay, and no matter what happens, it's almost a guarantee that after this, they will never see each other again.

"Be safe." There's so much growl in his words that they're barely intelligible, but close as they are, he hopes she gets it.

She does get it. Her throat closes up, her breathing unsteady, her eyes glassy. She's terrified, a small part of her wanting to just bolt away like a spooked horse, but her higher reasoning and his hands keep her together. She has to think smart because it's not just her neck on the line. Derek, Chuck, Bucky, and anyone else who has ever helped her is on the line too.

Even if all this goes according to plan, she'll probably never see her friends here again. Not her Tributes, not her fellow Victors, not even the few Capitolites she had come to cherish. Derek is the only one she'll even get to say goodbye too.

She pulls his face in close to hers and presses a kiss to his mouth. It's desperate and passionate and sad at the same time, her face wet with the tears that only now begin to fall on her face.

Then she pulls away. "You too." She clears her throat before quickly wiping her eyes until her face is porcelain perfection again. "Let's give ourselves some credit. We should stay in here for about thirty minutes. I have a few letters to burn in the meantime."

If he doesn't want to acknowledge what she just did, she'll allow that. If he wants to smack her for it, she'll allow that too. If he wants to ask questions, she'll also allow that, although with restrictions for what she'll answer. She has a few questions of her own to help her plan her escape: the more she knows about what the Peacekeepers are planning, the better.

There's a million things he wants to ask her. Why she did this - she must have a reason, Peggy isn't stupid enough to do this without one - what exactly she did, where she's going to go, how she's going to get out.

But he doesn't ask. It's better if he doesn't know.

And then she kisses him, and even if he did want to ask, surprise takes any words he might have tried to form away. He is absolutely shocked - he doesn't understand where that came from, or why the hell Peggy would actually want to kiss him.

People don't want to kiss him. Those who do have been Capitolites wanting to indulge their taste for danger while actually remaining as safe as possible, stupid girls and a boy or two looking to get a thrill while crooning about how they gentled the beast everyone talks about - or the ones who wanted to tame him, control him, get their thrills by holding power over a killer, but those were easy to figure out and get rid of.

Peggy isn't either of those, and Derek has no idea what brought his on, and for a moment after she pulls away, he just stares at her.

But then, he can understand kissing someone you know you're never going to see again and not being completely sure why, and the confused look on his face smooths out.

Instead of saying anything, he reaches out to pull her back in - gently, as careful as he can, before he wraps his arms around her for a hug.

It's comforting. She wants to stay in his arms and savor the warmth there. It feels safe, and she rarely indulges in just feeling safe. This is the last time to be feeling safe, though.

She still allows it. She wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him back, giving his cheek a kiss before burying her face in his shoulder. It doesn't seem like he really minded the kiss, but that's probably because they aren't going to see each other again.

"Thank you, Derek. I won't forget this."

It's unclear if she'll ever have a chance to repay the favor, but she owes it to him nonetheless if he ever needs her. He's her friend. He might have been more if they both had made different choices, but it's for the best that they didn't. It would have made all this much worse.

She's going to need to ask her questions, to make her preparations, and to say her piece before they leave the room. She doesn't want to leave him without any information about why she did what she did, because... well, she doesn't want him to agonize over it if she dies, like she did with Bucky. But right now, she just wants to hug him, and he's ready to do that.

Derek just breathes, one hand stroking over her hair while the other holds her close. It's the closest he's allowed himself to be with anyone who isn't Chuck in a very, very long time. If it wasn't the last time he was going to see her, he'd have never done it, but...

It is the last time he's going to see her. He hopes she won't be actually dead, he hopes the risk he's taking proves worth it, that he accomplishes something, but he still knows that even if it does, she will be as good as dead to him.

He gives a soft growl in response to her comment, an acknowledgement more than anything else. He doesn't really want to be thanked for it. Derek's still not sure it wasn't a stupid decision, trying to save her from whatever stupid things she did to get the Peacekeepers' attention on her, but he didn't have another option.

Eventually, he lets go. He can't just spend the whole half hour they need to stay in here holding her in his arms - it's calming him down in a way he'd never thought it would, but not enough. He's still restless, still feels like he has to move, and he starts pacing a little.

Her touch lingers when he lets go, but then she's pulling away too. There's work to be gone. Evidence to destroy. Information to gather. Get all your ducks in a row, Peggy Carter, or more than just you will go down. "What exactly did you hear the Peacekeepers say?"

If they're lucky, they mentioned something about when they were going after her or how they found out what she was doing. She goes to her drawers, pulling out a toolbox and pulling out a screwdriver. She goes to her closet, opening the door and crouching in front of the slot of the latch, using the screwdriver to take it off. She lays the screws down neatly before pulling the cover of the slot off entirely, showing that the hole behind it is much bigger and deeper than it should be. She reaches inside and pulls out a cardboard tube.

Bucky's letters to her, hidden close to her. She doesn't want to burn them, but she can't let anyone else find out he's alive. She knows all the words by heart, at least. She's taken all the strength they can give her.

She takes the top off the tube and turns it upside down over her palm, letting a matchbook and a few tightly rolled envelopes fall into her hand. The envelopes all have her name written on them with extra care, like he could pour his love for her just into her name.

The burning doesn't come immediately. First, she just smooths the curling edges of the envelopes, feeling the paper inside, full of the feelings of the man she has to protect more than anyone else. Her heart clenches in her chest and her eyes threaten to well up again, but she's not going to cry. Instead, she presses a gentle kiss to one of the envelopes before laying them down and striking a match.

He doesn't ask what she's burning. Like everything else, it's probably better that he doesn't know. Part of him wants to know - he's involved in this now, and it's instinct to gather as much information about it that he can. But the rest of him just wants to distance himself from all of this, to pretend like he isn't involved at all, and that means not knowing.

Instead, he keeps pacing as he answers her question.

"Coming after you and Linden. Didn't say what they found out about you, but they know you've been giving information to thirteen."

"Linden too? Damn." She considers that she could just leave him behind. Maybe he was working for Thirteen and they will give him a way out, but she knows they won't. They on their own. Bucky may have a system for her set up the way he did when he broke into the Capitol last time, she's not sure, but whatever it is probably isn't meant for Linden.

She could leave him. She could save her own skin. He would understand.

She already knows she can't do it.

The fire eats up the paper quickly. All the words she knows by heart are smoke. "I never told you the full story about Steve. I didn't even know the full story until a short while ago," she says quietly, watching the smoke dissipate.

If he wants to stop her from speaking, now's the time. She won't reveal the fact that Bucky's alive--that secret will go with her to her grave if she can't get to District 13--but she wants to give him something, some explanation for why he had to risk everything he loved for her.

There's a shrug at her question. He honestly doesn't give a damn about Linden. The guy's smart, yeah, and Derek can understand his love for books, but he pisses Chuck off. Granted, most people piss Chuck off, so that's not exactly a great indicator of character, but it does mean that Derek's not inclined in the slightest to stick his neck out for him.

If he was stupid enough to get caught doing something by the Capitol, then he deserves whatever's coming to him. And all right, technically that could apply to Peggy, too, but that's different.

Maybe he's a little bit of a hypocrite.

Derek's pacing stills, when she mentions the full story, caught by curiosity. He wouldn't have asked her, but that doesn't mean he's going to stop her if she's talking. He can't resist the desire to know more, and he makes a soft, inquiring noise.

Derek is more than a bit of a hypocrite, but then again, who isn't a complete hypocrite when it comes to certain things?

Peggy doesn't look at him. She just keeps looking at the spot that the smoke used to be. She's going to tell the truth for the first time in eight years. It's simultaneously a terrible and relieving thing.

"I could put up with a lot. Life is terrible in District 10. I had to drop out of school to work years before I was meant to. There were always crowds of people thin as bone outside of any place of work. They were waiting for job openings. The Capitolites would tell us to reach into equipment when it broke instead of taking the time to take it apart, and if it turned on too soon, then the children inside would be torn apart and any adults reaching in would lose their limbs. I remember seeing it happen so many times, but then the Capitolite in charge of the slaughterhouse would come down, cursing how long it would take to sterilize the equipment again, and tell us to go find replacement workers from the crowd outside."

It's been so long since she's gone back there in her head. She flexes her hands, rolling them into fists before loosening them again, like she's getting ready to punch one of those managers from years ago.

"I could put up with it. They treated us worse than they treated our animals, but I could put up with it. After all, I had Steve and Bucky. They were my sun and moon."

Tears spring to her eyes, but her gaze stays focused on something far away. Her hands keep clenching and unclenching. "I love them so much. They stuck by me no matter what, even after they saw me slaughter children. Bucky--he was a gentle person. After the arena, a bunch of Capitolites got him alone and drunk and he admitted that he didn't feel right having killed all those kids. I should have warned him, told him that we couldn't talk as freely in the Capitol as we could in the District, told him that they wanted him to say something wrong, I should have been there, but I wasn't because I was scared that they would lash out if I tried to stop it any more than I already did. Because of that, they took Steve away."

Her throat closes up. Her hands are fully clenched now, her nails making half-moons on her palms and her knuckles white. She needs a second to breathe.

Derek is a hypocrite about a lot, really, including about this whole conversation. If it wasn't Peggy talking right now, Derek would be bored. He knows how bad life is in the districts - he's from one, even if it's a wealthier one, and he'd gone on his own victory tour - and whatever sympathy Derek might feel is tempered by the knowledge of that's just how it is.

Instead he shifts uncertainly, unsure why she's telling him this or where she's going here, unless she's trying to offer him an explanation for why she'd thrown in with the rebellion. She doesn't need to, if that's it. Mistreatment by the Capitol is the reason most Districters quietly resent the Capitol - or not so quietly. Derek's almost disappointed, until she keeps talking.

He was a gentle person, she says, and all Derek can think is no wonder he killed himself. The arena isn't meant for gentle people, and the Capitol doesn't foster kindness. That's just the way it is - people who are gentle and kind don't last very long, one way or another.

But Derek doesn't say that. He might have if it wasn't Peggy, without thinking about it, but because it is he's able to step back a little, to realize that telling Peggy that is probably not a good idea, no matter how true it is.

He can almost understand it. Almost. If they took Chuck away, Derek would - well. The whole damn Capitol knows what Derek would do, with what happened in the arena. And there's no way that what they had could even come close to what he and Chuck have, but he can maybe see how it might be enough to make Peggy take a stupid risk like this.

"You did this because you lost them."

Edited 2015-11-28 20:39 (UTC)

"It would have been enough."

She flexes her hands, focusing on them. Open and closed, open and closed. She wants to break something, but instead, she mentally runs through her checklist. She has bug-out bags stashed around the city. She has destroyed the letters. She will need to take her radio with her, but she doesn't want to show Derek where it is, so she'll wait until he's out of the room before she stashes that in her bag.

"They hadn't killed him. They hadn't killed Steve when Bucky killed himself. I was good. I gave them years of compliance, no matter how much it made me hate myself. I did everything right, but they never told me he was alive, and they Avoxed him. They Avoxed him and he was sold off." Her breathing is getting ragged with rage. She wants more than anything to kill something. If it looks like she's going to be captured, she will take at least one of them down with her, she promises herself. "Then when they saw his offworld counterpart, they experimented on him until he died, just to see if they could recreate those effects. I did everything right and they still destroyed him because they don't care."

She takes a deep breath. "I'm fighting because they won't stop. They won't stop killing everything we love no matter what we do, because in the end, they don't care. We'll never be safe until they're gone."

And she expects the same thing will happen to Chuck and Derek one day, but they will make their own decisions. As for her? She's made hers.

He watches her, wary and uncertain, the angrier she gets, the more she talks, and is unable to stop the small quake of fear shaking through him at what she says. It's ridiculous, that he should be afraid for her because of the traitorous things she's saying, when he's here helping her leave because of the traitorous things she's done. But the threat of the Capitol runs deep, and even here, even after everything, he can't shake it.

There's a quiet growl as she keeps talking, and even he isn't sure why. Peggy is wrong - if you do what the Capitol says, if you let them think you're exactly what they believe you are and nothing else, they'll leave you alone. They might test you - they'll always test you - but you just have to figure out how to pass. They'd done it in the arena, the one they'd thrown them all back into. Derek had promised Snow that he'd do anything Snow wanted if they saved Chuck, and they gave Chuck back to him.

But Peggy is also right. The Capitol will never care about them, and they will never, ever stop.

He reaches for her, pulls her in close again, so he can rest his forehead against hers. So he can talk as quietly as he needs to in order for him to say what he's going to.

"I know." Just for a second, he lets himself go, just a little, lets himself put some of the hatred he feels for the Capitol into his words. "But as long as they have him, they have me."

And he doesn't believe that whatever rebellion Peggy has allied herself with stands a chance against the Capitol. The Capitol is wrong, it's a terrible thing - but it's also a great thing, a thing too powerful to fight. And Derek isn't willing to risk everything to try.

Maybe that makes him more of a monster now than he ever was in the arena, that he's willing to keep the world as it is, to watch other people get hurt and cities burn, as long as he can keep Chuck. As long as he can keep his family safe. But he doesn't regret it.

The only thing that he regrets is that he's only just now realizing that his family includes her, and that he's too late to keep her safe.

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if you want to get out alive run for your life

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cw: reference to rumored suicide

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