3054/Bandages Solve All Problems, Right

Bandages Solve All Problems, Right
Date of Scene:	23 August 2020
Location:	Suite 06: Triskelion
Synopsis:	Just like old times, some old timers come together to deal with the aftermath of a good scrum and make plans to stick it to HYDRA.
Cast of Characters:	Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers, James Barnes

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Peggy Carter has posed:
The text from Peggy was a slightly strange one. 'Do you know know how to break into one of these phones? And where extra ace bandages are? Don't worry too much. Will be in my quarters.' Which is probably a sign he should be worrying a little and, well, she had an interesting night. She's not been around the Triskelion much as of late, working on a few personal projects but without little information left behind on what they are. Now, however, she's found herself slightly limping home with the reminder that she's not as young as she used to be and doesn't have much of any super soldier serum in her veins. That's to say, she's a bit sore.

She messaged Steve on her way back to the Triskelion, so she's barely made into her quarters. She's also moving a bit slower than she'd ever care to admit. She's wearing a modern SHIELD uniform -- black slacks, the black leather-looking body armor. Her lip is split and nose slightly bleeding. All of her is covered in dust and debris, giving a gray patina to the normally black uniform. Even her usually neatly pinned back hair is mussed. She's had a night. Slowly, she sinks down to the edge of her bed, "...Oh hell..." She moans quietly. That hurts. And she needs to get her boots off.

Steve Rogers has posed:
There's a quiet if sharp rap-rap-rap on her door before Steve actually makes to open it before anything is said. If anything shows his depth of concern, it's this right here, this breach of accord and manners.

"Peggy?" he asks, voice smoothed as even as he can make it as he shuts the door behind him with practiced care -- half to mute the sound of it, half to not break any part of the hinges or mechanisms of the handle and locks. He's got a standard SHIELD med-kit box in his hand, more than likely plucked out of his own office or temporary roomm here at the Triskelion, and he was intending to leave for the day until the text arrived by his dress. Jeans, a plain tee-shirt, and a button-down shirt in green plaid with sleeves rolled to his elbows prove this -- the combat boots are habit.

He stops in the main entry room //now// out of polite manners as he continues quietly, "Got your message. You sure you don't need the infirmary?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
It's a bit strange, the amount of nostalgia in how she looks right now compared to the dissonance of the modern uniform she wears. If it wasn't for those blacks, this is a scene he's taken in at least a dozen times. The dust of some explosion, nicks and cuts of a fight, loosened hair from much activity in a tiny little space. Granted, they weren't blowing up a HYDRA compound tonight, but it's got that feel about it. "Come i-" She starts to call, but he's already making his way inside. A quirk of a smile crosses her slightly split lips. Somehow, her lipstick is still mostly in tact.

"I hope I didn't bother you too much... Just was easier asking for a delivery than ducking questions in the halls. I'm sure. If I needed the infirmary, I'd be unconscious by now. So... nothing bleeding internally, I'm certain." Those words are meant to be reassuring, even if they might not be exactly.

She tenderly leans over, the stiff movement of someone nursing cracked ribs rather obvious, but she's always been stubborn like that. Laces tugged out of their loops. One boot off at a time. Slow and steady.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Peeking his head around the corner, Steve takes in the sight of the mortar dust and the general aura of having been in one helluva fight. His true-blues go wide for a second as his heart thumps off his ribs hard a few times in quick, adrenaline-fueled concern before memory and experience catches up with him.

She's breathing, she's ambulatory, she's using words in full sentences -- they're doing great so far.

"If something's bleeding internally, we'd know soon enough 'nd you'd be carried there faster'n two shakes of a lamb's tail," the Captain says as he walks into the bedroom now. Yes, there's some pink at his ears, but he studiously ignores this as he sets the med-kit off to one side next to the bed. The man then kneels to help with the other boot, his fingers somehow managing to shoo Peggy's away from fussing at the laces in the process. "Not a bother. Wouldn't be the first time you dragged in looking better'n the other guy," Steve murmurs, glancing up at Peggy with a lop-sided smile of, again, memory. "So...who's responsible for this?"

James Barnes has posed:
They've both still got the reflexes honed by those years at war. That sense of predatory presence, like deer somehow knowing there's a wolf on the prowl in the area. So when, exactly, do those instincts alert them that there's someone *else* in the main room of the suite?

There's no noise, no sound of breathing. Not the creak of leather or the rasp of metal on metal. Maybe impossibly subtle movements of the air in the rooms.

Peggy Carter has posed:
That momentary look of panic in his eyes is hard to miss. Peg's seen that a lot before too. She gives him a tired smirk as she looks up from her first boot and a slight shake of her head. "...Looks far worst than it is, I promise. This modern body armor is a dream." She reassures him, voice about as ragged as she looks right now, but she really is speaking in full sentences. And her eyes are responsive. She's probably not much more than banged up.

As he shoos her hands away, she makes a slightly disapproving sound in her throat, but doesn't actually stop him. She just sets her good arm behind her, helping prop her up on the side of the bed so she's not shifting ribs too much. The biggest hint that she's a little more hurt and a little less on top of her game than she'd like to admit is the fact that she misses Bucky coming into her room. He's a familiar motion and scent, so it doesn't ping her paranoia, and she's a little too distracted trying to get out of her modern, debris-covered uniform. "Ah, this... in particular, would be a certain Frank Castle. But it's not his fault. Not exactly."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Hmm." If the Captain immediately recognizes the name, it's not apparent. There's a goodly amount of memory to access for him and he continues pulling laces from the loops. The man continues lightly if drolly, "'nd how's it not his fault exactly? Shrapnel's not a bomb's fault exactly."

Maybe it's the feeling of the fine hairs rising on the back of his neck -- or the tingling down his spine to ice his guts -- but either way, there's the impression of someone else being present. Steve glances up at Peggy even as he continues helping to remove the boot from her foot, his strength carefully measured, and he sets it aside.

"Barnes, you gotta walk louder, somebody's gonna pop you one accidentally one day," he calls out towards whatever presence is in the living room. If it's Bucky, excellent -- if it's not, someone's now more than aware of who might be one step behind them and more stealthy yet.

James Barnes has posed:
The first sound out of him is that put-upon sigh Steve's heard hundreds of times. Usually followed by a "Steve, just what do you think you're doing?" in one of its variants. Steve, did you get in a fight again? How many tries is this? Really, you're from Jersey now?

Tonight's flavor is, "Did you really think you could sneak past my room carrying medical supplies and I wouldn't *notice*? Lili is very disappointed in you, Rogers. She told me before I left her watching Rin Tin Rin movies in my living room. They're in black and white, so she's not missing anything."

Whereupon he appears around the door, looking about the room with frank interest. No comments on them both being in her boudoir, as it were. "So, how exactly did this Castle joker muss your hair, Carter?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
A half laugh escapes her throat at the bomb comparison and Peggy gives a little breath at that. "I suppose that is as good a metaphor as any. A rather long story short..." She starts, right hand coming up to gingerly unzip her body armor now that both her boots are off, but both her motions and words stop *dead* as Steve speaks to someone else in the room she didn't even realize was there. Maybe she is more off her game than she though.

Dark eyes stare sharply at the front room, left hand moving for her holster just in case. It's been a long enough week that until she sees Bucky's face, she's going to be ready to shoot. Then he's there, coming around the corner of her open bedroom door, and she exhales a breath of relief. Hand falls from anywhere near her weapon. "Bloody hell, James... Steve's right. You are going to get yourself *shot* one of these days." But there is a tired smile in both her voice and on her lips as she says it. She doesn't mind him here. "... send my apologies to Lili. I didn't want to bother you with this..." She motions to the medical kit, "Mess."

Then both of them are asking and Peggy just sighs, beginning to undo her armor. Her right arm is definitely more slow than her left. "A somewhat long story short... found the son of an old friend of ours. Wilhem Richter, remember him? Son was carrying on his work. I... ensured he's no longer able to do that, and took out a few of his friends. Mr. Frank Castle didn't appreciate a trained marksman operating in his territory, and assumed I was some sort of... rival mob family, going after Richter's grand daughter. He was wrong. We've worked it out... now. But there may have been a bit of a fight and a collapsed floor between first meeting and... working things out."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Figured you 'nd Lili'd be distracted by the television," replies Steve as to the dry question from his oldest friend. There's not a lick of apology in his words. He then moves to pick up the med-kit and set it on the bed after he stands, studiously considering the contents of it while he listens to what occurred between this Frank Castle and Peggy. There is a disapproving little frown in particular for the collapsing floor, as if he blamed it in particular for a good portion of the trouble. Hearing Richter's name makes him outright scowl -- the expression might seem odd on his normally benign features.

"You know the name, Buck? Frank Castle?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder towards the Soldier. There's no question as to whether or not they recognize Richter; that's conveyed in a far cooler glint in the Captain's eyes.

James Barnes has posed:
The mention of Richter makes the impish gleam in Buck's eyes dim considerably. "I remember that name. Tried to turn it into a family business, eh? Good on you for stopping it."

The explanation of Castle's involvement makes him go grimmer yet, positively cold. "Territory, huh?" he asks, with that little grunt. "What's his problem with the Richter line? Yeah. I've heard of him. Some kind of brain-damaged ex-Marine who thinks God made him judge, jury, and executioner. They never had me working in his self-assigned little fiefdom, so he and I never got into it. They didn't have me working in New York a lot after the fifties - strained the programming." His tone is matter of fact, flat as a board.

Peggy Carter has posed:
As Steve's face goes cold with the mention of Richter, Peggy's jaw sets a touch. She's not exactly guilty, but she's not entirely certain if the scowl is to her actions, or about the man's name alone. Bucky's praise, however, gets a bit of a smile, "He needed to be taken care of. I did it...quickly, at least," She admits quietly. Not proud of murder, but also not too bothered by it.

She finishes slipping out of the body armor, in a black tank top beneath. Her right shoulder is the ugly, slowly spreading green and yellow bruising of an arm that was probably dislocated earler in the evening, but it seems to be setting right in the socket now. Just a whole lot of bruises. She pauses in her stripping to grab a clean wipe out of the med kit so she can at least wash off her face and some of that blood from the corner of her lips.

"Frank Castle is dangerous, but... he could be an effective asset. Especially in that area of the city. His concern was protecting Richter's daughter. Apparently, someone is swiping a whole lot of kids off the street up there. I thought maybe it was me. I taught him otherwise." She states quietly, rather an understatement of a fight that's left her looking like she went throught he war again. "And I've got more follow up to do on Richter's colleagues, but he was, at least, operating out of a warehouse in the Bronx. There's some of them *here*, still. Right in our back yard." And the cold tone in her voice supplies the words she didn't exactly say. She's working on taking care of it. "I've been talking to Howlett a lot, lately. He wants in on cleaning up some of the old loose threads. I figure a local contact isn't a poor choice."

Steve Rogers has posed:
If Steve has thoughts on the murder of the Richter kid, he keeps them to himself. Instead, he subtly winces to see what the removal of the body armor reveals.

"You're probably gonna want that arm in a sling, Peggy." A quiet notation from the Captain as he eyes the color of her skin around the joint. There's a quiet sigh and, clearly signaling that he's reaching out, he begins to feel very cautiously around it for odd lumps. He listens to her explain further about this Frank Castle whom Bucky knows so well in both halves of his personality. There's a palm-up gesture for her forearm, the other upon her shoulderblade, in order to begin testing rotation on it in, again, a very delicate manner.

The name-drop, however, has him smiling to himself. "Wondered if he was going to get involved. Be good to have him on our team if we're going after anybody connected to Richter."

'Our team' already, is it?

James Barnes has posed:
Buck doesn't feel inclined to lecture, that's clear. Not in that mood. The bruises make his lips twist a little sideways. "I've got this gel stuff that's good for bruising, and another that's good for pain," he says. "Strong enough they even work on me." Someone slipped him a bottle of the liniment they use on racehorses.

The news that Castle was trying to be a protector makes him raise a dark brow. "He's sorta inclined to shoot first and ask questions later," he says, quietly. "But yeah, if he can be useful....." A tilt of his head. "I still need to meet him. Poor bastard sounds like he had as bad a time as I did." A little hiss of laughter. "Man, at this rate, we should be able to take over the local VFW post. Should all of us go out for a drink that won't do us any more good than root beer."

Peggy Carter has posed:
A disapproving mumble comes from Peggy's throat as Steve mentions slinging her arm. She does not look thrilled with that idea, but she's not stopping him from making certain nothing is actually torn. Nothing *feels* out of place. She seems to have managed to put it back in before too long. Dark eyes shut, bracing against the pain and just keeping her breath slow and even. She dislikes letting anyone see her in pain, much less the two super soldiers who she prefers to fight along side of on a regular basis. "... Strong enough they work on *you*? That's... impressive. Logan gave me his ancient secret recipe for the ribs... 'Tiger balm'. It's been helping some." That not only implies that she's been seeing Logan perhaps more often lately, but that she went *back* out into the field with banged up ribs. Peggy's been busy.

Steve's comment about 'our team' gets her eyes back open. She arches a brow, looking between the two thoughtfully. "He wants in. After we... lost... you two, Howlett and I did what clean up we could together. It, apparently, wasn't enough." The grimace on her face is part battered torso, part several decades worth of guilt. She nods to Bucky about Frank, "Castle... yeah. I think he did. He... reminds me a lot of the boys, but when it was still... fresh. He's not in a great place, but he's useful and he doesn't have to be alone about it. So...I'll forgive the dislocated shoulder." She half smirks.

But then, her expression grows a bit more serious. They're both here and the topic is on the table. She breathes out quietly, "So, I'm starting to sniff out more of what I can from old leads and names. There's this cell in the Bronx. I can't assume Richter is the end of it. There will be more. If you both want in... god knows I want you there. Logan does too. But it's not going to be... pretty. If someone's still in HYDRA, after all this time? I don't think there's any saving them. We get in, take them out, get out. I'm... done with taking prisoners."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"I can always bring something with more've a kick than rootbeer." There's a glance almost impish from Steve over at Bucky as he says it -- after all, the Captain has access to Asgardian ale. "'nd if you wanna go get that gel, Buck, wouldn't say no to it." Apparently, Steve has assigned himself as the current triage medic. He's still watching Peggy's face like a hawk as he tests lifting her arm up and down as well as inwards and outwards, then followed by a flexion. As soon as he spots the microtells of pain, he stops each motion.

There's a significant look from her and then to Bucky once the cards are on the table, as it were -- Peggy's grand plan for why she's mustering the old guard. Slowly, Steve lets out a sigh and looks back to the woman with the spine of steel and somber brown eyes.

"How far under the radar's this gonna fly, Peggy?" Because Fury can be...well...furious sometimes. "Like Operation Windowpane?"

An extremely clandestine operation back in the times of the Howling Commandos where only General Phillips knew about it and signed no papers for it.

James Barnes has posed:
Oh, so she's been introduced to the wonders of Tiger Balm. "That stuff could strip paint off'a battleship's hull," Bucky says, eyes getting big. "Yeah. The high test version actually makes a dent on some of my pain. I mean, I gotta go through a lot of it to get there, but it does. You know what else works? Epsom baths. Again, you need way more than a normal person, but....yeah, it helps."

The assessment of Frank makes his lips thin out again. "I'm dubious he's capable of being a team player. He sounds like he's too stuck on his own vendetta to be useful as a regular thing. I mean, yeah, I know, enemy of my enemy, but....enh, we'll see."

That last little comment of hers makes him frown. No pointing out that that point might have applied to *him*, decades under the knuckle of HYDRA. But then, he wasn't unrepentant, when he was himself. "In a sec," Buck says, quietly. "Got Tiger Balm, and I got this arnica gel stuff that helps bruises heal." A flicker of his gaze between them. "I dunno. Fury has a tendency to find things out. You guys really think these rooms aren't bugged?" His tone is matter of fact.

Peggy Carter has posed:
A side eye is given to the walls of her room at the thought of bugs. She smirks, a bit of a sardonic laugh escaping her lips, but even that hurts a bit. She's going to be sore for days. "You both know SHIELD better than I do. Now, at least. If this was 30 years ago? I'd have signed off on it in a heartbeat. I *should* have been doing it but..." She goes quiet for a moment, not really able to hide the guilt that cuts across her face as she actually considers it, "...I was too caught up in... other things. Lost sight of a lot of the original goals. Or, maybe, just got too comfortable. Chances are, they're going to find out. I'd rather their support. If you don't think they'll give it..."

She sighs, giving Steve's shoulder a little squeeze. It's a motion of gratitude and one of apology. "Then I'll go indepedent. This was *supposed* to be the goal from the beginning. The fact that these bastards are still running around is because I... we... didn't finish the job. Because they let HYDRA bastards sign immunity agreements to use their brains." Oh. She's still mad about it. They can hear it in her voice and she's trying to swallow it back, but it's there. It's a nice distraction from the fact that she doesn't have a great range of motion in that arm right now -- at least, not one that is pain free. And she needs a shower. Desperately.

Steve Rogers has posed:
The squeeze to his shoulder has Steve pulling his lips thinned to one side. His frown is empathetic now and he glances over at Bucky again before back to Peggy once more.

"You'd more'n likely get some clearance from SHIELD about it, Peggy. 's'more how many cooks you want in the kitchen. You want to keep the team small, you're gonna have to go through specific channels. Everybody here...they'd be ready to help you clear out any HYDRA rat's nest in a heartbeat. Nobody here's glad about the immunity agreements."

He sighs, expression gone melancholy about its edges, otherwise rueful. "Would've put a stop to that if I'd been around for it. Snake's still a snake even if you tape its mouth shut." He can't do much more about her arm for the moment sans a sling and the pain-lessening balm, so he very gently relaxes her arm down so her palm can rest on her own thigh.

"Count me in as you need me. HYDRA still around these days means some slippery bunk in the works."

James Barnes has posed:
"I'm sure my rooms are," Buck says. Still no sign of dismay. "I mean, it makes sense. I was HYDRA's sock puppet for decades. I assented to trackers in my arm, 'cause I'd rather they be able to find me if I went off the reservation. Only makes sense that they've got eyes and ears on me here." But he leans over to lay his hand on her unwounded arm, in wordless reassurance. "I bet they'll sign off. Might want more agents involved, but.....I think it'll happen."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"...I'll take the arnica, Buck. I don't even want to look in a mirror tomorrow. But it could have been worse. The body armor nowadays is...just brilliant." Somehow both a reassuring, and worrisome statement. She gives Steve a thankful half smile and rolls her tank top up enough she can start peeling off the old tension tape she had been wearing. It's sweat and dust covered now, through the ringer on the work she did tonight. But she's mobile enough to get it off herself and get to the tiger balm Logan left her, at least.

Both of their reassurances that it's worth going through SHIELD gets a bit of a long breath from her, but she doesn't disagree. Peggy just gives a slight nod. "Then... I'll push it up the chain. As soon as I have more information. No reason to rile everyone up if there's nothing left to find. But... I want both of you there. And Howlett. They want to give us a few more babysitters, well... As long as they can keep up, I won't complain. But I know the team we have and I know the work we do. And I can't just continue to sit in here...rotting... Waiting for an assignment." She shares a look in Bucky's direction with those words, something heavier behind it. More understanding. They've had this talk.

Steve Rogers has posed:
The more significant look given to Bucky is noted, but as he has more than once, Steve keeps his peace and simply watches. So much information can be gleaned by listening and not reacting -- something he's been working on mastering for over a century now.

He looks over to the contents of the med-kit again, as if to give Peggy and her tape peeling some privacy. Objects are moved around in it and he frowns to see how spartan it is. Oh well. He'll have to find reason to lift a sling from the infirmary.

"Hard enough sitting still," he agrees, tone mild. "'nd you're up to snuff now if you're taking on ex-Marines like it's an Easter egg hunt 'nd the bunny's gone 'nd sworn at your grandmother." Peggy gets a familiar, knowing smile, small yet true, along with his glance over at her. "God rest her soul," he add respectfully -- it might bring back memories of scuffed dirt and parade grounds. "Do what you need to do. Keep me on your shortlist."

James Barnes has posed:
"I'm honestly sorry I didn't get to see you whip American Marines into shape in that war. I may rag on the leathernecks, but there's no doubt they were kicking ass and taking names in the Pacific," Buck opines, scratching at the back of his neck with his human hand. "But yeah, Steve's right. It'll be fun to have the old band back together. HYDRA won't know what hit 'em....and maybe we can make this Castle guy into an upstanding and productive citizen."

Peggy Carter has posed:
As Steve averts his eyes, even if she's just flashing some stomach, Peggy cannot help but chuckle a bit. "...Steve. We've been through war together. This is not a strip tease, I promise you." She's mostly jesting there, making fairly quick work of grabbing at the tin of stuff Logan gave her. It really *is* the old fashioned stuff, with enough menthol in it to choke a horse. But it'll help some, at least. She's being generous with it on both her shoulder and those ribs. The rib bruising is older, probably 3 days, well into purples and melting away some of the yellow green.

"I'm up to plenty snuff, and I can whip any soldier into shape after follow you trouble makers around Europe. Compared to the Howling Commandos, most units are well trained, polite school children." She smiles up from her work with the tiger balm, a glint of teasing in her eyes. "Oh. Castle. I still need to unlock that phone of his. He won't hand it over so... either I need to drag him in here, or drag some sort of... hacking... Thing... out to him." She slightly frowns, "I can't say I quite understand these phones yet, or what is necessary. He's going to call me in 12..." She pauses, looking over to a clock, "Make that 9 hours and I need a solution by then."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve quirks his brows and then gives Bucky a very long-suffering look at the teasing he gets for his manners. Still, there's a vague little smile around his face as he does continue to allow some modicum of privacy for the spread of the balm by simply not looking in her direction.

"Figure hacking into a phone's a question for R&D," he opines of Frank's issue. "Be easy enough for them to send you off to speak with him with a device if he's not wanting to set foot around here." Bucky gets another look, as if to silently communicate that Frank probably won't receive the warmest of welcomes for his treatment of Peggy, sheer cussed martial mastery by both the woman and ex-Marine be damned.

James Barnes has posed:
Buck has politely looked away. Not that he's particularly scandalized, he certainly sowed his oats during the war. But there's no courtesy in staring. "I'd just hand it off to the guys in the Science department," he suggests, even as his nostrils flare at the scent of the liniment. "They'll have it open in a jiffy."

A nod of silent commiseration for Steve, that old unspoken communication. Buck might have a little to say about him bruising up their friend, after all. 'Say' with an alloy fist, quite likely.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Now with both of them turned away, Peggy cannot help but chuckle very quietly to herself. "...Goodness... I missed you both." She murmurs, quieter than her other worries this conversation. Just the sheer, aching need to put voice to the pang of pure memory and emotion that hit her in that moment. "...I missed you so much." She whispers quieter. Now it's her turn to look away, so they don't dare catch that slight glimmer in her eye. Now smelling like a christmas tree, she stands and grabs at one of the looser, more soft robes she owns. Just something for modesty.

"...He's willing to come here. I didn't know how SHIELD would feel about me bringing him to their front door. I guess we're not quite as secret as it used to be..." But as she looks back to them, she knows she's missed something. She arches both brows, staring between them, "...I'll just... talk to R&D."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Another look is given to Bucky and, quietly, the Captain agrees, "...we missed you too, Peggy."

Steve glances over at her when he feels the whaft of air move from the robe being pulled about her frame. It certainly does send a nose-tingling rush of the balm towards him and the man can't help it: he sneezes once, into the crook of his arm. Good lord, MENTHOL. He sniffs once and blinks, looking between both of his friends.

In regards to Castle arriving on the grounds: "SHIELD'd have something to say, yes, but you're a bit wiser than the both of us. Don't think anybody'd give you flak if you brought him to the front door 'nd then left him there."

Because Frank would be way more easy to punch there with an alloy fist.

James Barnes has posed:
Which is when the old James speaks up in the back of his brain to remind him of that wrinkle in their history. Awkwardness intensifies, as does his rubbing at the back of his neck, that familiar tell. "We missed you too, Peg," he says, and his voice is raw. Then he swallows hard, rallies, and adds, "But then my aim got a *lot* better."

"Nah. Don't let him in here unless we gotta. I don't even want him knowing what the receptionist looks like, you know. Talk to R&D," he urges.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Bless." Peggy echoes to Steve's sneezing, wincing just a bit as she realizes it's probably the salve on the air. She secures that old fashioned robe -- it's the black satin one with big pink flamingos on it that looks like it came out of a 1950s sears catalogue -- around her waist before walking towards the front room, nodding for them both to follow. No reason to stay in the bedroom with a pile of mortar covered clothing and bruise salve on the air. She arches a brow at the rawness behind Bucky's voice. "Hey... The fact you missed by enough that I'm still standing...counts for a lot. It wasn't you." She'll say that every day until she dies or it gets through his head.

She gives his flesh and blood arm a brief squeeze as she passes to move into her most comfortable chair. She sinks down with the aching exhaustion of someone who is absolutely feeling the last few days and her own mortality, but is trying not to give into it. "I'll...talk to R&D in the morning. A shower and six hours sleep. I'll be right as rain."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Quietly, Steve's the last to leave the bedroom. He watches the exchange, how Peggy relies on a gentle touch to see about getting her point through, and then ends up lingering by the doorway. He folds his arms and takes up an easy lean, the entire appearance something seen time and time again in the slower hours away from base camp back when.

"Sounds like a good plan to me. You got any tea in case the aches're keeping you awake?" he asks of the woman, preparing to be absoutely shocked if she says there's not a satchet to be found around this place. "We won't be in your hair for much longer. Still want me to see about borrowing a sling?"

'Borrowing' as in, walk off with one nonchalantly.

James Barnes has posed:
"You know we can legit ask for one," Buck says, dryly. "We don't gotta steal it. We're all actual agents of SHIELD and this isn't enemy territory." A look between them. "Anyhow, lemme go get that stuff. Because yeah, sleeping helps....and even if you don't need as much as you used to, it's a big acclerant to what healing we do."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"I'll see how it is in the morning. If I'm walking around in a sling, then there's going to be a *lot* more questions about the whole mess and I'd rather not be put on medical leave for a few nasty bruises." Peggy mutters, not loving the idea that she's suddenly in a situation where she has to take orders to stay out of the field if they are given. She always was that stubborn. She tucks her feet up beneath her, sinking deeper into her selected chair. "...Thank you, Buck. I owe you. Both...really. This was much nicer than a lecture in the infirmary."

Then her tired mind catches up with the fact that Steve actually asked her a question too. She really is feeling the day, "Oh, yes, of course... there's several tins over on the counter. Probably the mint for tonight. I'll be tasting mint no matter what, covered in the stuff." There's half a dozen tins of loose leaf, proper tea and an old fashioned steel kettle on a little burner at the of the mini-kitchen area. Of course that was the most essential thing in the kitchen.

She watches Bucky duck back out to his room with fond, thankful eyes. Any of the old dismissal or cold shoulder that was occasionally between the during the war? It's well and truly gone.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"s'a matter of not letting the infirmary know about her or she's gonna get hassled by 'em," Steve replies just as dryly back to Bucky, with the old stubborn undertone of arguing just for the sake of arguing. Barnes has a point regardless. Then Peggy's just about echoing him and he allows himself a small nod.

There is, in fact, tea and while the Soldier exits to get supplies, the Captain moves towards the kitchen. Pushing off of the door frame, he walks a few steps before stopping and glancing back at Peggy. "You want a cup? I can make you one before I head out?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
While Peggy doesn't want to fall asleep on either of them, it's clear she's close to it. Eventually, a body just hits a wall, and mostly out of her work clothes, salve on, and in her favourite chair? She's feeling every inch of the last two fights. She smiles drowsily at Steve, "...Tea sounds lovely but... I doubt I'll be awake much to drink it. I can manage if I need. Thank you for sneaking supplies down the hall and... Understanding." For not ratting her out. For being there the moment she called. There's a whole lot of weight behind that drowsy thanks, but her dark eyes focus heavier on him even through the exhaustion. So he knows how much she means it.

"I'll be right as rain in a day or two. And keep you both updated on what I find. I promise." With that, some quiet good nights are exchanged. She gets the arnica from Bucky with murmured thanks as well but, once they both go, it's all she can to to make it to the bed and sink into a deep, desperately needed sleep.