ᴄᴘᴛ. ᴘᴇɢɢʏ ᴄᴀʀᴛᴇʀ (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} anewhero) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} chances_rpg,@ 2025-06-06 09:47:00 |
 |
|||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Entry tags: | marvel: peggy carter (what if), marvel: stephen strange (mcu) |
The fact that it had taken Peggy this long to actually spend any real time with this universe’s version of Stephen Strange was, well– perhaps not unsurprising, given the experiences she’d had with another version of him. But this Stephen wasn’t that Stephen, not really, and she’d always thought that perhaps if they’d met under better circumstances, they could have been good friends.
So, she wanted to test that theory, so to speak. They’d finally agreed on a day to enjoy an afternoon roaming the expanse of Golden Gate Park, just as he’d suggested. Waiting until it was properly spring (even on a technicality) had seemed ideal. The weather still wasn’t warm warm, but it was good enough.
Peggy hummed quietly to herself as she waited on a bench just outside of the entrance to the botanical gardens, having sent him the pin to her location several minutes before, and hoped he wasn’t bound to startle any passerbyers with the sudden appearance of a portal.
It was still odd, having multiple versions of the same people here. But an alternate Tony Stark was not only his best friend but had officiated his wedding, so really, it shouldn't have been terribly shocking.
But somehow, Peggy was different. He knew the stories of the one from his world. And he'd met the one of another world, much more similar to this one. A leader in her own right, the Captain of her world and time. And she, like the other, had seen the worst of him.
But Stephen had survived. He'd lost the love of his life and one of his daughters, and he'd survived. Sure, it had been dark for a long, long time. But he hadn't burned the city to the ground, he hadn't plunged them into the Dark Dimension trying to bring Christine and Emily back. Maybe he was better than even he thought?
Nah.
But still. He showed up with a large sack of takeout. “Hope you like subs,” he offered, dropping to the spot next to her. “Ocean Subs is the best this city has to offer. It's hardly that place in Chelsea, but it's not half bad.”
“Subs are a-okay with me,” Peggy responded with a smile. That had been the deal – she’d find a meeting spot and he’d bring lunch. It wasn’t a picnic, per se, but the weather was beautiful and enjoying a meal outside was good enough for her. “You’ll have to tell me about this place in Chelsea, maybe I can take a holiday to New York and find it.”
Craning her head a bit, she peeked down toward the bag and raised an eyebrow, clearly amused at the amount of food. “Look, I know I’m a super soldier and have a much higher metabolism than most, but I feel like you’ve brought an awful lot of food just for the two of us.”
It was teasing, and the words didn’t stop her from hunting down a sandwich to start with.
“How’s your day been, so far? I’m glad we were able to figure out a day to meet up. You were right, the park is beautiful and I haven’t even seen a fraction of it yet.”
Despite himself, Stephen let a sheepish grin cross his face. “I wasn't sure what kind you'd want and I figured if we have leftovers, that's what refrigerators are for. America is basically always hungry anyway. Besides, I've seen how much food Rogers can eat and I don't trust you.” That last bit was delivered with a more genuine smile and he pulled out one of the bags of deli potato chips.
“It's been quiet,” he admitted to her question. Most days were quiet lately. He was getting better about being social again, but it was taking time. And he still couldn't spend a great deal of time in the shop yet. “But that means I can slip off and grab an obscene amount of sandwiches.”
It was nice out but there was still a breeze and he was grateful Cloak was spending its day as a scarf. He leaned back on the bench, finally reaching for a turkey sandwich. Those were usually a safe bet. “What have you been doing since you got here? Other than your thrilling foray into the fiber arts, I mean.”
Peggy let out a quiet, exaggerated noise of exasperation and gave a small shake of her head. “I’m wounded, Stephen.” The fact that she was fighting a smile of her own was evidence enough that it was all in jest and she happily began to unwrap her sandwich to dig into. “Though I suspect I’m not quite the bottomless pit that Rogers is. I still have an ounce of decorum to be blamed on my upbringing, I’m sure.”
“Quiet can be nice in moderation,” she replied after taking a bite and swallowing. It was rude to talk with your mouth full, after all. There was a lot being left unsaid in her response, though. A part of her was concerned that perhaps too much quiet could lead to disaster, no matter what she thought of this version of Strange.
She let out a huff and gave a fond roll of her eyes at his remark, but smiled all the same. “Well, Steve’s got me doing some volunteer work with him to help fill my time. It’s– been an adjustment, to say the least, and I think he understands it better than most the situation I’m in. Still trying to get to know people, exploring the city and such. I’ve been considering talking to Phil about a job. There’s a version of SHIELD here that he’s the head of, right?”
“English manners and all,” he teased gently. Not that he could say much. The whole ‘born with a silver spoon in his mouth’ thing. There were plenty of things he wouldn't have been allowed to get away with himself.
Obviously he couldn't read her mind, that wasn't one of his powers. But Stephen could feel the apprehension in the air. And he didn't blame her. He'd seen multiple universes and many were in disarray because an angry, frustrated, or just bored Stephen Strange had been loose. But this one? This one knew. He'd seen what he could do. And he knew he was powerful - that wasn't just him bragging, it was only the truth - but he didn't want to be that man. Not here. He had too much to fight for.
“Rogers is good at that,” he admitted, avoiding her eyes as he picked at the turkey. “Talking people into volunteering, I mean. He got me thinking on a project of my own.” A Peggy Carter in any world not in SHIELD didn't seem right, admittedly. “I don't know much about Coulson’s work. Shockingly, he didn't invite me to join the team.”
Peggy’s head gave a slight tilt as she watched him pick at his sandwich, eyebrow arching just slightly in a quiet response. “Care to elaborate on that project you’re thinking of?” She was, admittedly, quite curious to know what it was he had up his sleeve.
Her expression softened and she offered him a gentle, if not sympathetic smile before she tucked into her sandwich again, quiet as she chewed before speaking up once more. “Would you want to join SHIELD if he offered you the opportunity?” she asked, side-glancing at him in the process. “The versions of you I’ve met– well, I think they preferred working alone and not in a governmental sort of organization. You don’t strike me as being much different in that respect.”
Stephen grinned a bit. “No, don't be ridiculous, of course I don't want to join SHIELD. I barely want to count as an Avenger. But I'm so attractive on the bookbag.” Giving a little teasing wink, he shrugged. “I've never been much of a team player. I think that's the real reason the Masters gave me a Sanctum to watch. Keep me away from the big group projects.”
But projects in general, that was different. He took a deep breath “After Christine and Emily were taken, I was a bit lost. I had America, but I guess I was floundering. Rogers suggested I take up some sort of volunteering. The idea of a low cost health care system for the city hit me.”
By then he didn't even try to meet her eyes. He just stared down at the pickle - he'd sworn he'd said no pickles, but he didn't actually mind them so whatever - and shrugged. “I haven't gotten very far into planning things, but it's helped.”
Peggy couldn’t help the fond roll of her eyes at the joke about the bookbag and she smiled around another bite of her sandwich, quietly enjoying the meal as she listened to him explain the project he was working on, even if it was slow.
Her smile faltered a little at the thought – he’d had Christine here, too, and still lost her. That just seemed to be the fate of every version of Strange and Peggy couldn’t help but feel a familiarity in that pain. Maybe that wasn’t the case for every Peggy Carter out there, but this version of her could at least relate.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Stephen,” she said gently, letting her leg shift a little to gently bump her knee against his. “I’m sorry about Christine and Emily, though. I– can understand the pain, in my own way. It’s not something we have to talk about right now, but if you ever want to, I’m a willing ear.” Peggy inhaled and pushed out a quiet sigh, letting her gaze wander for a moment before she glanced back at him. “Do you want any help figuring out how to get that set up? Your project, I mean.”
His smile was soft. It still hurt. Of course it hurt, he thought maybe it would always hurt. He'd been so close to having it all - maybe he'd never be a world-class neurosurgeon again but he had a family, a successful business, even friends, as odd as that might have been.
And just like that, it was gone. As he'd said that dark day, he'd seen dozens of dimensions. And in every single one, he somehow lost Christine. Here he had the added bonus of a teenaged daughter. And a glimpse of a baby girl he'd never have now. It was hard and it was dark.
But…well. He had to pick up the pieces, didn't he? He couldn't let America down. The sheer sass and annoyance on her face if he went down the path of so many other Stranges was just about enough to ground him.
“I've been scouting locations. And feeling around for people who may want to volunteer. I'm one of those who wished for unlimited funds so I can get set up, but I should look for funding, too, you know? In case… Well, if I'm not here, I want it to keep running. Our system is broken.”
Stephen paused briefly, then glanced up, an actual genuinely kind expression on his face. “And thank you. I'm not big on ‘talking about it’. But I'm glad the offer is there.”
Peggy gave a quiet hum of acknowledgement as he spoke, nodding a bit, and offering him a gentle smile the entire time. “It’s no better where I come from, either. Setting up something like this is good work and even if something happens to you, I have a feeling the people here will do what they can to keep it going. With that said, I’m happy to offer whatever services I can. Could probably get Steve in on it, too.”
She smiled a bit more and then took another bite of her sandwich, before wrapping what little was left back up. “From my own experience, it’s always good to have the option to talk to someone if you need to.”
And she was fairly certain that most versions of Strange could probably use it, whether they took advantage of the offer or not.
“Oh, Rogers is helping. I already warned him, this is his fault, he's getting involved. He can do the heavy lifting so Stark can objectify him.” Though he laughed, he wondered if that was weird for her. That wasn't her Steve, but he was a Steve and he was happily settled with someone else. Stephen had a very good idea what that felt like and he knew, even if it was for the best, it could feel like a knife in the stomach.
And that he actually did know how it felt.
“Sometimes I just think about how I had a small fortune and access to the best doctors in the world and they still couldn't help. And there are people who don't even have half of that.” He shrugged, looking concerned. For himself, for the world around them, who knew. “I just think asking people to pay an $8000 deductible may as well not be any insurance at all.” And if a 21 year old Stephen could have heard him, he'd judge him relentlessly.
Peggy suddenly found herself wishing she hadn’t quite finished with her sandwich yet, as hiding the almost pained smile she showed in response to his joke would’ve been much easier with food in her mouth. Or in front of it.
She’d been forced to accept very quickly that there was nothing but friendship in her future with this Steve and that had to be okay. And it wasn’t like she wasn’t happy for him – she was very happy for him, as he’d found something she still wasn’t convinced she’d ever find. That didn’t stop it from stinging a bit from time to time.
She bit back a sigh. “In what ways couldn’t they help? I think I’m missing some context here, because I feel like– well, insurance is one thing. Offering your medical services for a small fee, or even for free, is another. And should be possible with funding from donors, right? There are humanitarian organizations that manage it all over the world with tents and a minimum amount of equipment. It should absolutely be feasible here.”
“Well,” Stephen began in an honestly almost earnest tone - “I more meant that I had that. And if I couldn't get completely healed, what would that mean for someone with fewer resources? Like…between the hospital stays, the surgeries, the physical therapy… That final bill was more than most people's homes cost. People are bankrupted by the system just to stay alive.”
He hadn't missed the bittersweet expression that had crossed her face. But, well…if he didn't want to dive into his trauma, he certainly couldn't make her talk about hers. If she chose to, well… He was there.
“So, yeah. That's what I'm thinking. I figure we may have to start small. But I'd like to expand. Maybe do it on an income based sliding scale.” To start. With enough funding, Stephen genuinely wanted it to be free. He knew with his unlimited wish money, he in theory could. But there was always the chance he'd be sent home and he didn't want people who'd gotten use to getting help to no longer get help.
And who the hell was this philanthropist, anyway?
“I suppose that depends on how you look at it, doesn’t it? Doctors aren’t necessarily miracle workers. You were healed as best as you could be, but you’re alive and able to do– arguably incredible things as a sorcerer. Which isn’t to say you didn’t as a doctor, either. Just a different brand of incredible.”
And she’d borne witness to a lot of those incredible things with her own eyes, even though they hadn’t exactly been used for good.
Peggy smiled again, more genuinely. “I think that sounds like a brilliant starting point. And maybe put some of that endless money into some sort of high yield savings account so it builds plenty of interest over time, hm? Consider it the cushion for whoever might have to step in should– something happen to you.” An unfortunate reality she had yet to experience firsthand here, but was familiar enough with.
“Arguably? No, no. Definitely incredible.” Because Stephen Strange was going to be Stephen Strange regardless. “You know, The Ancient One once told me I could use magic to heal myself. Go back to the life I'd had, just pour my magic into my hands and keep doing what I was doing. But that the world would have been missing out. And I think maybe she was right-I don't think I could have seen and done the things I have and still go back.”
Not completely. And this, this clinic idea of his, it wasn't giving up sorcery. It wasn't abandoning the Avengers or San Francisco, or the planet if it needed it. But it was something else, an extra way of helping.
If Captain America could spend his time volunteering, he supposed he could, too.
“I should find an accountant. Photographic memory doesn't mean I'm good at investing and taxes.” That actually made him laugh a little despite the dark turn their conversation had taken.
Leave it to Stephen Strange to be humble (said no one ever). Peggy rolled her eyes a little, but laughed through it, clearly amused by his moment of ego. The laughter gave way to a bright smile and she shifted a little more on the bench toward him, bumping her foot against his leg this time. “You’re right, definitely incredible. How foolish of me to even imply otherwise.”
“I don’t know her– I’ve seen a lot, been to different timelines and haven’t met her– but I think I would agree with her. You’re vital to the multiverse. I’m sure there’s… some version of you out there among the infinite that did go back and do that and lived a perfectly normal life. But I think that you would be the outlier, and who knows what would happen to that timeline without the work you do with your magic?”
She paused for a moment and eyed him with a slightly arched brow. “Feel like I’m doing a fair bit of ego stroking,” she teased.
Peggy laughed again softly and moved to push herself up from the bench, reaching down a hand toward him. “Almost no one is good at investing or taxes, Stephen. Now finish your sandwich so we can go walk, hm?
No one could ever accuse Stephen of being humble. He smirked, tucking the last of his sandwich away. “You know, there's worlds where the Ancient One is a man? Feels sexist somehow.”
As Peggy got to her feet, Stephen opened a small portal into his refrigerator, tossing the leftovers in. “I can feel our dear Sorcerer Supreme scolding me for misuse of magic. Joke is on him, if it's a problem he should get his ass here.” Because god, he really did miss Wong. Not that he'd ever tell the man if he did, one day finally, show up.
“Accountants are!” he argued, his tone contrary. “Don't be silly, how else are they going to make finances their entire personality?” And how was he supposed to tell an accountant that he had literally unlimited money he needed to invest? Maybe he'd just use a set amount.
“Suppose the same could be said for the fact that I exist and Captain America doesn’t in my timeline, hm? Though Steve did exist, very much so.” Peggy said it so casually that it took a beat for the past-tense of her words to sink in. She hesitated for just a moment before letting the sudden appearance of a portal distract her from her thoughts.
Peggy grinned, though it was slightly forced. “Might be that he shows up just to spite you, hm? Pity the magic here keeps your portals from working across timelines, though I suppose that would ruin the fun of being forced to stay here against our wills.”
It was a joke, for the most part, and yet…
She scoffed at his argument and then laughed again, a bit more loudly this time. “I did say almost no one, Stephen. Unfortunately, accountants are the exception to that rule, as we’re all aware. Because as you said, they make it their entire personality.”
Stephen laughed, desperate to not stray back to depressing subjects. Because he heard that past tense. Heard the soft hint of longing in her voice. It was a tone he knew well. And he had offered up a nice picnic with a beautiful view, not reliving two insanely pitiful tales of trauma.
“If half the shit I've done here hasn't gotten him to show up, I can't annoy him here.” And he really wished he could. “He didn't even have the courtesy to show up for my wedding, he's definitely not coming just to scold me about minor portals.”
He began leading the way towards the best views of the bridge that he'd promised her. “My portals don't work through timelines anyway. But the real weird part is that America's don't work. Whatever this place is really is blocking us from leaving because if anyone could do it, it's her.” Stephen knew the frustration the teenager felt, desperately trying to make her powers do what they were supposed to do. She'd only just gotten the hang of them before getting yanked here.
Still, the thought was amusing. The grin softened, but she shrugged a little. “Well, I suppose never say never. I’d like to meet him one day. I’ve been to a lot of places and he’s one person I’ve yet to come across, though I suppose that’s in large part to the Watcher just keeping me busy. Would just be nice if our paths crossed, is all.”
Peggy followed his lead, sticking by his side as they walked and admiring the trees around them. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, so there was a sweetness in the air that helped the heaviness in her chest that had come on. Grief was a strange thing.
“Ah, I’m afraid that I don’t know America very well at all– she can create portals, too?”
“Maybe your Watcher knew the two of you would be far too powerful if you crashed into each other.” Wong would absolutely love Peggy. She didn't put up with anyone's shit, including Stephen's.
He actually had forgotten it was cherry blossom season - Christine had loved them, insisted they order incense from every brand that carried cherry blossom. Maybe he'd pushed it out of his memory intentionally. But, well, no point in dwelling. She'd loved elderflower, too, and he couldn't exactly get rid of that, either.
A look of pride crossed his face as he talked about the teen girl who'd crash landed into his life. “America is brilliant. She's smart and sassy and snarky. She's also incredibly powerful. Back home I'd gotten her into Kamar Taj, learning from Wong and the other Masters, but here she's with me. I guess in a lot of ways we're all each other has.” And that wasn't even including her portals. “She's had a really tough life before this, so now it's just on me to not screw it up more.”
That at least made her laugh again. “Oh, is that so? Well, now I really have to meet him and see what the fuss is about.” Not that she’d remember having this conversation if she left this place – that much she at least knew. So whether she would ever meet Wong or not was entirely out of her hands.
Peggy caught the look of pride on his face. Oh, he cared about this girl, didn’t he? She smiled as he described her, thinking to herself that she sounded like someone who she ought to get to know better. “Is she the same one from your timeline, at least? Or a similar timeline.” Peggy paused for a moment and then reached over to gently place a hand on his arm as they walked, a brief touch of affection.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sure you’re doing an excellent job taking care of her. And I’d like to get to know her, if that’s alright.”
“If he shows up, I'll make sure you get a personal introduction.” As dangerous as that pair might be, he'd enjoy it. Mostly just to have Wong around again. He knew he technically could just pop over to Kamar Taj or the Hong Kong Sanctum and sneakily bother the Sorcerer Supreme, but enough Stephen Stranges had broken enough timelines. He still hadn't forgotten the strange woman who'd arrived to tell him he'd caused an incursion.
His face darkened a bit on the thought of America's timeline. “Technically, yes? She's from my world - she knows me, we have shared history. Her original dimension is very different from ours, but she's not from some world where I'm married with six kids or where the Avengers all had kids before they died fighting Ultron.” Well, one of those he knew existed.
Stephen glanced sideways at her, then down at her hand on his arm. Not many people bothered to try and comfort him, and even less so physically. It was…odd. Not bad. Just different. “I think she could use more strong and powerful women in her life. She's still figuring out so much about the world around her, and she's basically raised herself for the last several years. At one point she left here and then she came back.” On the day he'd Iost the other half of his family. Sometimes being Stephen Strange was complicated.
Noticing the way he glanced down at her hand, she hesitated for a moment and then withdrew; Peggy had at least gotten the point across, but she also wondered for a moment if she’d stepped over a line with physical contact. After all, not everyone liked to be touched and Stephen… well, he struck her as the sort to not receive it often.
“I’d be happy to spend time with her, if that’s the case, and if she’s up for it. Maybe the three of us could go do something together soon? With summer coming up, maybe… hmm. We could spend a day at Pier– what is it? 39, I think? It’s a bit similar to Coney Island, is what I’ve heard.”
So, she wanted to test that theory, so to speak. They’d finally agreed on a day to enjoy an afternoon roaming the expanse of Golden Gate Park, just as he’d suggested. Waiting until it was properly spring (even on a technicality) had seemed ideal. The weather still wasn’t warm warm, but it was good enough.
Peggy hummed quietly to herself as she waited on a bench just outside of the entrance to the botanical gardens, having sent him the pin to her location several minutes before, and hoped he wasn’t bound to startle any passerbyers with the sudden appearance of a portal.
It was still odd, having multiple versions of the same people here. But an alternate Tony Stark was not only his best friend but had officiated his wedding, so really, it shouldn't have been terribly shocking.
But somehow, Peggy was different. He knew the stories of the one from his world. And he'd met the one of another world, much more similar to this one. A leader in her own right, the Captain of her world and time. And she, like the other, had seen the worst of him.
But Stephen had survived. He'd lost the love of his life and one of his daughters, and he'd survived. Sure, it had been dark for a long, long time. But he hadn't burned the city to the ground, he hadn't plunged them into the Dark Dimension trying to bring Christine and Emily back. Maybe he was better than even he thought?
Nah.
But still. He showed up with a large sack of takeout. “Hope you like subs,” he offered, dropping to the spot next to her. “Ocean Subs is the best this city has to offer. It's hardly that place in Chelsea, but it's not half bad.”
“Subs are a-okay with me,” Peggy responded with a smile. That had been the deal – she’d find a meeting spot and he’d bring lunch. It wasn’t a picnic, per se, but the weather was beautiful and enjoying a meal outside was good enough for her. “You’ll have to tell me about this place in Chelsea, maybe I can take a holiday to New York and find it.”
Craning her head a bit, she peeked down toward the bag and raised an eyebrow, clearly amused at the amount of food. “Look, I know I’m a super soldier and have a much higher metabolism than most, but I feel like you’ve brought an awful lot of food just for the two of us.”
It was teasing, and the words didn’t stop her from hunting down a sandwich to start with.
“How’s your day been, so far? I’m glad we were able to figure out a day to meet up. You were right, the park is beautiful and I haven’t even seen a fraction of it yet.”
Despite himself, Stephen let a sheepish grin cross his face. “I wasn't sure what kind you'd want and I figured if we have leftovers, that's what refrigerators are for. America is basically always hungry anyway. Besides, I've seen how much food Rogers can eat and I don't trust you.” That last bit was delivered with a more genuine smile and he pulled out one of the bags of deli potato chips.
“It's been quiet,” he admitted to her question. Most days were quiet lately. He was getting better about being social again, but it was taking time. And he still couldn't spend a great deal of time in the shop yet. “But that means I can slip off and grab an obscene amount of sandwiches.”
It was nice out but there was still a breeze and he was grateful Cloak was spending its day as a scarf. He leaned back on the bench, finally reaching for a turkey sandwich. Those were usually a safe bet. “What have you been doing since you got here? Other than your thrilling foray into the fiber arts, I mean.”
Peggy let out a quiet, exaggerated noise of exasperation and gave a small shake of her head. “I’m wounded, Stephen.” The fact that she was fighting a smile of her own was evidence enough that it was all in jest and she happily began to unwrap her sandwich to dig into. “Though I suspect I’m not quite the bottomless pit that Rogers is. I still have an ounce of decorum to be blamed on my upbringing, I’m sure.”
“Quiet can be nice in moderation,” she replied after taking a bite and swallowing. It was rude to talk with your mouth full, after all. There was a lot being left unsaid in her response, though. A part of her was concerned that perhaps too much quiet could lead to disaster, no matter what she thought of this version of Strange.
She let out a huff and gave a fond roll of her eyes at his remark, but smiled all the same. “Well, Steve’s got me doing some volunteer work with him to help fill my time. It’s– been an adjustment, to say the least, and I think he understands it better than most the situation I’m in. Still trying to get to know people, exploring the city and such. I’ve been considering talking to Phil about a job. There’s a version of SHIELD here that he’s the head of, right?”
“English manners and all,” he teased gently. Not that he could say much. The whole ‘born with a silver spoon in his mouth’ thing. There were plenty of things he wouldn't have been allowed to get away with himself.
Obviously he couldn't read her mind, that wasn't one of his powers. But Stephen could feel the apprehension in the air. And he didn't blame her. He'd seen multiple universes and many were in disarray because an angry, frustrated, or just bored Stephen Strange had been loose. But this one? This one knew. He'd seen what he could do. And he knew he was powerful - that wasn't just him bragging, it was only the truth - but he didn't want to be that man. Not here. He had too much to fight for.
“Rogers is good at that,” he admitted, avoiding her eyes as he picked at the turkey. “Talking people into volunteering, I mean. He got me thinking on a project of my own.” A Peggy Carter in any world not in SHIELD didn't seem right, admittedly. “I don't know much about Coulson’s work. Shockingly, he didn't invite me to join the team.”
Peggy’s head gave a slight tilt as she watched him pick at his sandwich, eyebrow arching just slightly in a quiet response. “Care to elaborate on that project you’re thinking of?” She was, admittedly, quite curious to know what it was he had up his sleeve.
Her expression softened and she offered him a gentle, if not sympathetic smile before she tucked into her sandwich again, quiet as she chewed before speaking up once more. “Would you want to join SHIELD if he offered you the opportunity?” she asked, side-glancing at him in the process. “The versions of you I’ve met– well, I think they preferred working alone and not in a governmental sort of organization. You don’t strike me as being much different in that respect.”
Stephen grinned a bit. “No, don't be ridiculous, of course I don't want to join SHIELD. I barely want to count as an Avenger. But I'm so attractive on the bookbag.” Giving a little teasing wink, he shrugged. “I've never been much of a team player. I think that's the real reason the Masters gave me a Sanctum to watch. Keep me away from the big group projects.”
But projects in general, that was different. He took a deep breath “After Christine and Emily were taken, I was a bit lost. I had America, but I guess I was floundering. Rogers suggested I take up some sort of volunteering. The idea of a low cost health care system for the city hit me.”
By then he didn't even try to meet her eyes. He just stared down at the pickle - he'd sworn he'd said no pickles, but he didn't actually mind them so whatever - and shrugged. “I haven't gotten very far into planning things, but it's helped.”
Peggy couldn’t help the fond roll of her eyes at the joke about the bookbag and she smiled around another bite of her sandwich, quietly enjoying the meal as she listened to him explain the project he was working on, even if it was slow.
Her smile faltered a little at the thought – he’d had Christine here, too, and still lost her. That just seemed to be the fate of every version of Strange and Peggy couldn’t help but feel a familiarity in that pain. Maybe that wasn’t the case for every Peggy Carter out there, but this version of her could at least relate.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Stephen,” she said gently, letting her leg shift a little to gently bump her knee against his. “I’m sorry about Christine and Emily, though. I– can understand the pain, in my own way. It’s not something we have to talk about right now, but if you ever want to, I’m a willing ear.” Peggy inhaled and pushed out a quiet sigh, letting her gaze wander for a moment before she glanced back at him. “Do you want any help figuring out how to get that set up? Your project, I mean.”
His smile was soft. It still hurt. Of course it hurt, he thought maybe it would always hurt. He'd been so close to having it all - maybe he'd never be a world-class neurosurgeon again but he had a family, a successful business, even friends, as odd as that might have been.
And just like that, it was gone. As he'd said that dark day, he'd seen dozens of dimensions. And in every single one, he somehow lost Christine. Here he had the added bonus of a teenaged daughter. And a glimpse of a baby girl he'd never have now. It was hard and it was dark.
But…well. He had to pick up the pieces, didn't he? He couldn't let America down. The sheer sass and annoyance on her face if he went down the path of so many other Stranges was just about enough to ground him.
“I've been scouting locations. And feeling around for people who may want to volunteer. I'm one of those who wished for unlimited funds so I can get set up, but I should look for funding, too, you know? In case… Well, if I'm not here, I want it to keep running. Our system is broken.”
Stephen paused briefly, then glanced up, an actual genuinely kind expression on his face. “And thank you. I'm not big on ‘talking about it’. But I'm glad the offer is there.”
Peggy gave a quiet hum of acknowledgement as he spoke, nodding a bit, and offering him a gentle smile the entire time. “It’s no better where I come from, either. Setting up something like this is good work and even if something happens to you, I have a feeling the people here will do what they can to keep it going. With that said, I’m happy to offer whatever services I can. Could probably get Steve in on it, too.”
She smiled a bit more and then took another bite of her sandwich, before wrapping what little was left back up. “From my own experience, it’s always good to have the option to talk to someone if you need to.”
And she was fairly certain that most versions of Strange could probably use it, whether they took advantage of the offer or not.
“Oh, Rogers is helping. I already warned him, this is his fault, he's getting involved. He can do the heavy lifting so Stark can objectify him.” Though he laughed, he wondered if that was weird for her. That wasn't her Steve, but he was a Steve and he was happily settled with someone else. Stephen had a very good idea what that felt like and he knew, even if it was for the best, it could feel like a knife in the stomach.
And that he actually did know how it felt.
“Sometimes I just think about how I had a small fortune and access to the best doctors in the world and they still couldn't help. And there are people who don't even have half of that.” He shrugged, looking concerned. For himself, for the world around them, who knew. “I just think asking people to pay an $8000 deductible may as well not be any insurance at all.” And if a 21 year old Stephen could have heard him, he'd judge him relentlessly.
Peggy suddenly found herself wishing she hadn’t quite finished with her sandwich yet, as hiding the almost pained smile she showed in response to his joke would’ve been much easier with food in her mouth. Or in front of it.
She’d been forced to accept very quickly that there was nothing but friendship in her future with this Steve and that had to be okay. And it wasn’t like she wasn’t happy for him – she was very happy for him, as he’d found something she still wasn’t convinced she’d ever find. That didn’t stop it from stinging a bit from time to time.
She bit back a sigh. “In what ways couldn’t they help? I think I’m missing some context here, because I feel like– well, insurance is one thing. Offering your medical services for a small fee, or even for free, is another. And should be possible with funding from donors, right? There are humanitarian organizations that manage it all over the world with tents and a minimum amount of equipment. It should absolutely be feasible here.”
“Well,” Stephen began in an honestly almost earnest tone - “I more meant that I had that. And if I couldn't get completely healed, what would that mean for someone with fewer resources? Like…between the hospital stays, the surgeries, the physical therapy… That final bill was more than most people's homes cost. People are bankrupted by the system just to stay alive.”
He hadn't missed the bittersweet expression that had crossed her face. But, well…if he didn't want to dive into his trauma, he certainly couldn't make her talk about hers. If she chose to, well… He was there.
“So, yeah. That's what I'm thinking. I figure we may have to start small. But I'd like to expand. Maybe do it on an income based sliding scale.” To start. With enough funding, Stephen genuinely wanted it to be free. He knew with his unlimited wish money, he in theory could. But there was always the chance he'd be sent home and he didn't want people who'd gotten use to getting help to no longer get help.
And who the hell was this philanthropist, anyway?
“I suppose that depends on how you look at it, doesn’t it? Doctors aren’t necessarily miracle workers. You were healed as best as you could be, but you’re alive and able to do– arguably incredible things as a sorcerer. Which isn’t to say you didn’t as a doctor, either. Just a different brand of incredible.”
And she’d borne witness to a lot of those incredible things with her own eyes, even though they hadn’t exactly been used for good.
Peggy smiled again, more genuinely. “I think that sounds like a brilliant starting point. And maybe put some of that endless money into some sort of high yield savings account so it builds plenty of interest over time, hm? Consider it the cushion for whoever might have to step in should– something happen to you.” An unfortunate reality she had yet to experience firsthand here, but was familiar enough with.
“Arguably? No, no. Definitely incredible.” Because Stephen Strange was going to be Stephen Strange regardless. “You know, The Ancient One once told me I could use magic to heal myself. Go back to the life I'd had, just pour my magic into my hands and keep doing what I was doing. But that the world would have been missing out. And I think maybe she was right-I don't think I could have seen and done the things I have and still go back.”
Not completely. And this, this clinic idea of his, it wasn't giving up sorcery. It wasn't abandoning the Avengers or San Francisco, or the planet if it needed it. But it was something else, an extra way of helping.
If Captain America could spend his time volunteering, he supposed he could, too.
“I should find an accountant. Photographic memory doesn't mean I'm good at investing and taxes.” That actually made him laugh a little despite the dark turn their conversation had taken.
Leave it to Stephen Strange to be humble (said no one ever). Peggy rolled her eyes a little, but laughed through it, clearly amused by his moment of ego. The laughter gave way to a bright smile and she shifted a little more on the bench toward him, bumping her foot against his leg this time. “You’re right, definitely incredible. How foolish of me to even imply otherwise.”
“I don’t know her– I’ve seen a lot, been to different timelines and haven’t met her– but I think I would agree with her. You’re vital to the multiverse. I’m sure there’s… some version of you out there among the infinite that did go back and do that and lived a perfectly normal life. But I think that you would be the outlier, and who knows what would happen to that timeline without the work you do with your magic?”
She paused for a moment and eyed him with a slightly arched brow. “Feel like I’m doing a fair bit of ego stroking,” she teased.
Peggy laughed again softly and moved to push herself up from the bench, reaching down a hand toward him. “Almost no one is good at investing or taxes, Stephen. Now finish your sandwich so we can go walk, hm?
No one could ever accuse Stephen of being humble. He smirked, tucking the last of his sandwich away. “You know, there's worlds where the Ancient One is a man? Feels sexist somehow.”
As Peggy got to her feet, Stephen opened a small portal into his refrigerator, tossing the leftovers in. “I can feel our dear Sorcerer Supreme scolding me for misuse of magic. Joke is on him, if it's a problem he should get his ass here.” Because god, he really did miss Wong. Not that he'd ever tell the man if he did, one day finally, show up.
“Accountants are!” he argued, his tone contrary. “Don't be silly, how else are they going to make finances their entire personality?” And how was he supposed to tell an accountant that he had literally unlimited money he needed to invest? Maybe he'd just use a set amount.
“Suppose the same could be said for the fact that I exist and Captain America doesn’t in my timeline, hm? Though Steve did exist, very much so.” Peggy said it so casually that it took a beat for the past-tense of her words to sink in. She hesitated for just a moment before letting the sudden appearance of a portal distract her from her thoughts.
Peggy grinned, though it was slightly forced. “Might be that he shows up just to spite you, hm? Pity the magic here keeps your portals from working across timelines, though I suppose that would ruin the fun of being forced to stay here against our wills.”
It was a joke, for the most part, and yet…
She scoffed at his argument and then laughed again, a bit more loudly this time. “I did say almost no one, Stephen. Unfortunately, accountants are the exception to that rule, as we’re all aware. Because as you said, they make it their entire personality.”
Stephen laughed, desperate to not stray back to depressing subjects. Because he heard that past tense. Heard the soft hint of longing in her voice. It was a tone he knew well. And he had offered up a nice picnic with a beautiful view, not reliving two insanely pitiful tales of trauma.
“If half the shit I've done here hasn't gotten him to show up, I can't annoy him here.” And he really wished he could. “He didn't even have the courtesy to show up for my wedding, he's definitely not coming just to scold me about minor portals.”
He began leading the way towards the best views of the bridge that he'd promised her. “My portals don't work through timelines anyway. But the real weird part is that America's don't work. Whatever this place is really is blocking us from leaving because if anyone could do it, it's her.” Stephen knew the frustration the teenager felt, desperately trying to make her powers do what they were supposed to do. She'd only just gotten the hang of them before getting yanked here.
Still, the thought was amusing. The grin softened, but she shrugged a little. “Well, I suppose never say never. I’d like to meet him one day. I’ve been to a lot of places and he’s one person I’ve yet to come across, though I suppose that’s in large part to the Watcher just keeping me busy. Would just be nice if our paths crossed, is all.”
Peggy followed his lead, sticking by his side as they walked and admiring the trees around them. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, so there was a sweetness in the air that helped the heaviness in her chest that had come on. Grief was a strange thing.
“Ah, I’m afraid that I don’t know America very well at all– she can create portals, too?”
“Maybe your Watcher knew the two of you would be far too powerful if you crashed into each other.” Wong would absolutely love Peggy. She didn't put up with anyone's shit, including Stephen's.
He actually had forgotten it was cherry blossom season - Christine had loved them, insisted they order incense from every brand that carried cherry blossom. Maybe he'd pushed it out of his memory intentionally. But, well, no point in dwelling. She'd loved elderflower, too, and he couldn't exactly get rid of that, either.
A look of pride crossed his face as he talked about the teen girl who'd crash landed into his life. “America is brilliant. She's smart and sassy and snarky. She's also incredibly powerful. Back home I'd gotten her into Kamar Taj, learning from Wong and the other Masters, but here she's with me. I guess in a lot of ways we're all each other has.” And that wasn't even including her portals. “She's had a really tough life before this, so now it's just on me to not screw it up more.”
That at least made her laugh again. “Oh, is that so? Well, now I really have to meet him and see what the fuss is about.” Not that she’d remember having this conversation if she left this place – that much she at least knew. So whether she would ever meet Wong or not was entirely out of her hands.
Peggy caught the look of pride on his face. Oh, he cared about this girl, didn’t he? She smiled as he described her, thinking to herself that she sounded like someone who she ought to get to know better. “Is she the same one from your timeline, at least? Or a similar timeline.” Peggy paused for a moment and then reached over to gently place a hand on his arm as they walked, a brief touch of affection.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sure you’re doing an excellent job taking care of her. And I’d like to get to know her, if that’s alright.”
“If he shows up, I'll make sure you get a personal introduction.” As dangerous as that pair might be, he'd enjoy it. Mostly just to have Wong around again. He knew he technically could just pop over to Kamar Taj or the Hong Kong Sanctum and sneakily bother the Sorcerer Supreme, but enough Stephen Stranges had broken enough timelines. He still hadn't forgotten the strange woman who'd arrived to tell him he'd caused an incursion.
His face darkened a bit on the thought of America's timeline. “Technically, yes? She's from my world - she knows me, we have shared history. Her original dimension is very different from ours, but she's not from some world where I'm married with six kids or where the Avengers all had kids before they died fighting Ultron.” Well, one of those he knew existed.
Stephen glanced sideways at her, then down at her hand on his arm. Not many people bothered to try and comfort him, and even less so physically. It was…odd. Not bad. Just different. “I think she could use more strong and powerful women in her life. She's still figuring out so much about the world around her, and she's basically raised herself for the last several years. At one point she left here and then she came back.” On the day he'd Iost the other half of his family. Sometimes being Stephen Strange was complicated.
Noticing the way he glanced down at her hand, she hesitated for a moment and then withdrew; Peggy had at least gotten the point across, but she also wondered for a moment if she’d stepped over a line with physical contact. After all, not everyone liked to be touched and Stephen… well, he struck her as the sort to not receive it often.
“I’d be happy to spend time with her, if that’s the case, and if she’s up for it. Maybe the three of us could go do something together soon? With summer coming up, maybe… hmm. We could spend a day at Pier– what is it? 39, I think? It’s a bit similar to Coney Island, is what I’ve heard.”