Who: Peggy Carter and Tony Stark Where: The cottage What: Quiet time When:After their rescue mission to New York Rating: High for language, violence, mentions of PTSD and possibly attempted assault/rape (heavy one, guys) Open: No Status: Ongoing/incomplete
She was more battle worn than she ever thought it possible to be. There wasn't much of her skin left bare of dirt or dried blood anymore and her head was swimming with images. Peggy never expected to be thrown into chaos and turmoil. Her hands had stopped shaking barely minutes ago as she unlocked the door to the cottage and walked quietly into the kitchen. "Through here." she muttered to Tony, unsure if he had ever been inside her home before and not caring to ask whether he had. She knew very well that she wouldn't sleep and that even all the kisses and reassurrances to and from Steve wouldn't help her. In her day they called it battle trauma or shell shock and Peggy and Tony both wore it as heavily as Steve did. The only difference was that she refused to speak, hadn't done any more than necessary in New York and it was going to stay that way.
Peggy led him to the kitchen and filled up her tea kettle, craving the drink more than was humanly possible. It had been her salvation for nearly ten years of training in the military, ever since she was sixteen years old, with her father's insistence that she get away from Andrew Daniels and his pathetic marriage proposals. "How'd you take it?" She asked Tony softly, going to the sink and washing her hands while the water boiled.