Peggy Carter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
onthedot) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2013-06-06 12:34 am
onthedot) wrote in thecapitol2013-06-06 12:34 am
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who| Peggy & Clint
What| A bloodbath with no blood
Where| Training Center
When| Today
Warnings/Notes| General feelings of violence and mild PTSD?
She felt dirty here. Dirty in ways that rankled her nerves and turned her stomach and made her want to curl up somewhere silent and away from the constant noise of this place. She flung a knife at the distant dummy and watched it glance off the damn things shoulder without sticking. She missed her gun. She missed the feeling of purpose and power and surety. She missed home. America. England. The battle fields of Europe and the smell of wet dirt and sweaty men and the knowledge that she was working toward a goal that was right and just, where death was a consequence but it wasn't a murder and it wasn't entertainment.
A second knife left her hand, her breath escaping in an aggrieved grunt as she watched it arc through the air and stick from the dummy's forehead, wishing more than anything that it could be sticking out of the head of someone in power, someone who brought her here and then let her be burnt alive for the joy of a captive audience.
The absolute wrongness of all of it was a hard knot in her chest that had not once let up, would not let up, wasn't allowed to let up. Otherwise they would have won. And she was never going to give any of them that satisfaction.
What| A bloodbath with no blood
Where| Training Center
When| Today
Warnings/Notes| General feelings of violence and mild PTSD?
She felt dirty here. Dirty in ways that rankled her nerves and turned her stomach and made her want to curl up somewhere silent and away from the constant noise of this place. She flung a knife at the distant dummy and watched it glance off the damn things shoulder without sticking. She missed her gun. She missed the feeling of purpose and power and surety. She missed home. America. England. The battle fields of Europe and the smell of wet dirt and sweaty men and the knowledge that she was working toward a goal that was right and just, where death was a consequence but it wasn't a murder and it wasn't entertainment.
A second knife left her hand, her breath escaping in an aggrieved grunt as she watched it arc through the air and stick from the dummy's forehead, wishing more than anything that it could be sticking out of the head of someone in power, someone who brought her here and then let her be burnt alive for the joy of a captive audience.
The absolute wrongness of all of it was a hard knot in her chest that had not once let up, would not let up, wasn't allowed to let up. Otherwise they would have won. And she was never going to give any of them that satisfaction.
no subject
He doesn't even know.
Except that he does, sort of. He knows what it's like not to be able to forget something that was done to you, something you couldn't escape that will completely change the way you live the rest of your life. He knows what that helplessness feels like.
"It looks good up?"
Yeah...he fails at comfort, Peggy.
no subject
"Thank you, Clint," she says and smiles. She wasn't looking for comforting, just the knowledge that someone out there knows and won't use it against her. That there was another person who understood what that feeling meant.
"I don't suppose you would be willing to teach me how to use a bow?"
no subject
He smiles at the question. It's not something he's considered before, and he's not sure he'll be a great teacher, but in this place, he couldn't very well turn her down. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"