7087/Central Park Reunion

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Central Park Reunion
Date of Scene: 26 July 2021
Location: Central Park, NYC
Synopsis: No description
Cast of Characters: Logan Howlett, Peggy Carter




Logan Howlett has posed:
It was a new dawn. A new day.

But never has it ever been a new life for Logan. He worried about Peggy, wondered if she was even alright right now. But...she was married, Daniel was alive....and he was the fool who was still in love with her. In his heart, he knew that she was better off but...he's allowed to be a little selfish, isn't he? But he long since left the safehouse in Delaware, instead back in New York to one of his favorite hangout spots:

Central Park.

He sat on a bench, dressed in blue jeans, a white tanktop, a leather jacket, with his dog tags hanging from his neck. For once, he wore nothing to help cover his face from wandering eyes, he's just...enjoying the scenery of what he could never have. Dogs run around the park, catching frizbees and tennis balls, children play with imaginary swords and shields, like knights of old or Captain America and Thor-inspired epics.

But for a long moment, Logan reflects on his life. Perhaps that is such a time for him to be found, when he's not worried, unconcerned with whatever is coming his way right now.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The woman who approaches might look like some sort of dream, especially compared to the state she was in the last time they saw each other, just over a week ago. She seemed to stablize a bit after that blood transfusion, her vitals a touch stronger than before, but she never woke up again. At least, not while he was there. The news didn't seem good.

Now, the woman whose carefully striding across the brick paved paths of Central Park looks as fresh and young as the first day he met her in the war. Any wrinkles she did carry have now been erased by whatever was done to her. Even the faint burn scars down the left side of her face have lightened enough to barely be noticable. Her hair is fuller again, more glossy. She's got the flush of youth in her cheeks. Somehow, the clock has been turned back to even before she took that serum in the 60s.

"Heard I might find you here. Figured it'd be a bit harder to ignore me than calling your phone would be." Peggy clips out gently, her British accent as clear and familiar as ever. She's got a big pair of sunglasses on and is in a light green sundress, trying to disguise herself enough that she doesn't much look like her wanted photos. She just looks like a lovely retro styled brunette young lady enjoying the park on a sunny day.

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan pondered if Peggy was even alive. If she was...would she even remember him? Logan's been just a memory to so many people. In Logan's mind? She may as well be dead, he couldn't bring himself to look at her again, even as he realized he kissed a married woman. Shame touches his eyes, and he lowered them to the ground.

That is, until he heard the sound of her voice.

Logan immediately stands up and turns to look at Peggy, who looks like she had the most lovely de-aging process the world has ever seen. She looks like she's in the youth of her life! "How....How are you still kickin', kid?" Logan was noticeably aghast. "Did....did the transfusion work?" Logan questioned curiously. It would explain why she looked -so- youthful, looking like she did before the serum was ever in play.

He's in disbelief. In a good way of course, but...-how-?

Peggy Carter has posed:
Ever matte red lips pull into a warmer, wider smile as she hears his voice and the utter shock on his face. Sunglass clad eyes flicker across her shoulder behind, trying to make certain there are no police or anyone around who might recognize her face other than him. She then pulls her glasses off and slips them into the pocket of her dress, taking a few steps closer. She lingers just a few feet away, not quite reaching for a hug. Not yet, at least.

"Lots of... strange science, is the best explanation. Though I hear you gave me a top off. Probably what bought me enough time for them to get my old blood sample out of the Triskelion. Then it was a matter of some sort of... genetic therapy, the best I can understand? They took me back to before I ever had the serum... To my genetic state from 1949. So, here I am." Looking fresh, alive, and 28 years old. It feels almost impossible.

"Steve tells me you're dragging your feet on going to the military dance end of this week." Peggy states with a slightly skeptical, disappointed smirk. If there are hard feelings about anything from the other week, she's not showing it.

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan stares at Peggy like he's seen a ghost, like he's trying to rationalize this information in his mind and how this could -possibly- be possible. It was like they were right back in the early 40's, maybe late 30's. He wondered if this was what it was like for the old soldier boys who remembered him, but recognized his youth.

He took a step closer yo her, but doesn't initiate the hug. Rather, he takes a breath. "I tried, Peggy. Tried to give you some of my blood, since I heal quick I...I thought it would give you better odds of making it." Logan confesses to his interference, his head lowering. "I'm sorry, darlin'."

He finds it difficult to hold her gaze. "I didn't know you and Danny." Logan turns away from her. "I just...." a shaky breath. "...ah, forget it." Logan tries to bury his feelings. It was instinct, and instinct kept him alive. Though talk of a military dance makes him chuckle. "He's been tryin' to get me to go to one of those for years. Can't dance, and I don't got a date, so he'll be disappointed." Logan gruffs out.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Howlett." Peggy's voice comes, more stern and upright that before, as he stumbles through saying he's sorry. She takes another step closer, one hand reaching for his shoulder and the other for his cheek as she tries to lift his eyes in her direction, "You *did* try. You bought me time, it... It helped. There is not a bloody thing in the world to be sorry about. Except maybe running off before I got to say thank you." Her newly strong, gentle hand gives his bicep a tender squeeze.

"And you *didn't* know about Danny and I... Hell, I would have never thought it possible either. I don't know how long I'm going to get to keep him there or what sort of time we're cheating, but you didn't know. It's *fine*." Peggy is searching for his eyes almost desperately, a large part of her terrified to lose her oldest friend.

A weak smile paints across her red lips as he gruffs about the dance. She gives a deep sigh, shaking her head to him, "It's not *just* about dates...it's a lot of old friends. This isn't some... recreation. This is the boys from the war. The ones that are left, at least. And I rather remember you danced a little bit back in the sixties. I got you on a floor at least once."

Logan Howlett has posed:
'Howlett.'

Nobody calls him by that name anymore. Nobody -alive- calls him that name anymore. Not even the likes of Victor Creed and other Weapon Plus program elites have ever called him by that name. 'James Howlett' it reads on one side of his dog tags, with the word 'Wolverine' written on the other. His callsign, one that has been used to the present day and one that governments all over the world have come to fear. Yet..it felt empty, in a way. He still doesn't remember so much of his life. He knows his name, bits and pieces of the wars he's been in throughout time, but the one thing he's always remembered was her.

He failed her too. For a long time, he failed her.

Yet Logan doesn't look at her as she calls his name, yet he feels the warmth of her hand on his cheek, the facial hair doing nothing to stop the movement, and his blue eyes lift to meet hers. "Then why don't it feel that way?" Logan tells her then. "Danny's my friend too, Peggy." He betrayed both of them with the act of kissing Peggy when she was weakened and sickly.

The talk about the dance gets a shake of his head. "You're the only one I ever danced with, darlin'. Still surprised I wasn't steppin' on your toes. I ain't no Elvis." Logan tells her then, though she tells him its about meeting friends. "You know they don't remember me anymore Peg. It'll freak 'em out that I'm lookin' what? 30, 40 years old, like I did back then, and them good boys looking the young age of 99 and pushin' hundred?" Logan resists, but her touch? He seems to almost lean into it.

Her touch was a comfort to a lifetime of pain.

Peggy Carter has posed:
That warmth of her hand remains cupped against his cheek. It's like a part of her knows how little he lets anyone get this close, how lucky she is that he trusts her that much and, most of all, how much he needs it. The pad of her thumb gently traces against the edge of his jawline, almost enjoying the scruffy brush of facial hair there. A slight chuckle escapes her lips, "They might well not recognize you with this forest on your face. Phillips would be having a coronary, letting it grow out so." Peggy teases him lightly, trying to draw a smile from him.

"And you will be no more terrifying than I or Steve will. There's a few others too. Time didn't get all of us and, frankly, I would very much like to celebrate being alive. Especially with you there. I... I won't beg you to come. I can't force you. But... I'd really like it. Steve would too." Peggy implores, quite gently, but her whole heart is behind it.

"As for Daniel, you didn't know. It's not a betrayal for not knowing... You thought he was as dead as I did all those years. I will be incredibly cross with life if a mistake is why you decide to walk out of mine."

Logan Howlett has posed:
It wasn't fair.

Wasn't fair to those boys that people who were just lucky or cursed enough to have not aged since the war. Logan could move like a spring chicken, but he definitely didn't feel like one. His eyes look into Peggy's own a moment. "Yeah...I would. I doubt some of 'em would forget that I can claws, darlin'." Logan continues to resist her for only the briefest of moments, though....she talks to him about coming anyway, how much it would mean to her. Logan's hard demeanor softens a bit more.

"...fine, I'll go. But don't expect me to dance." He tells her then, his eyes slightly narrowed.

Daniel just makes Logan look away from her. Missed opportunities, painful to the heart. "Darlin'.." Logan looks like he's about to say something else, but stops himself. He remembers time with her, his hand lifting to gently cup her cheek. He remembers the late night chats, the emergency meetings, the heart-to-hearts.

"-My- mistake." Logan reminds her simply enough, reminded gently that what he did was certainly a mistake. "Just because I didn't know don't mean I didn't do it, Peggy. I'll stay in your life but...It ain't right to either of you if the ex is third wheelin'."

Peggy Carter has posed:
A brush of relief crosses her face as he finally agrees to go along to the party. "We'll see about the dance. Never say never, but...I'll be content with having you there." She murmurs with another squeeze of his arm. Peggy really did want to see him for the evening, not just for Steve's sake but mainly for her own.

Which means the last bit that he says cracks something in her. The fear that, without a relationship, she might have lost her oldest friend. Her expression crumples a bit and she drops her hand to wrap around his meaty palm, giving a strong, almost desperate squeeze. "Logan. You're not a third wheel. You're not just my...Ex. You're my oldest, best friend. No one... no one else in my life has been there as long as you have. I know we disappear some years, but we always came back to each other. I don't want to lose my best *friend* because my husband walked back in the door."

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan scoffs a little bit about the dance. "We'll see." He confirms, but she squeezes his arm again, and...well...Logan wanted to see her too. She was the reason he wanted to be there at all. Steve for certain, but...Peggy was just someone he wanted to be around all the time. He couldn't explain it to himself, couldn't justify it.

Maybe that's why Daniel's existence is painful for him.

When she brings her hand down to his and gives his hand a squeeze, Logan takes a deep, shaky breath.

He feels the strength of her hand, the feels the emotion in her plea. "We always come back to each other, Peg." Logan runs a hand through his hair. "That ain't gonna be the problem." he tells her, his eyes, moistened by emotion, look back into hers. "You're never gonna lose me Peg." He tells her. "I'm here for you...whatever you need." He lowers his gaze from her a moment. "I was going to tell you, Peggy. But...this rider doesn't have the best of luck. I hope you two are happy. I'll be around, Peg. Maybe for dinner sometime."

Peggy Carter has posed:
While there is a part of Peggy that doesn't want to admit what is achingly clear now -- how much he loved her and how both of them avoided ever daring to let themselves get that close, she's too sharp to avoid seeing it in his eyes. The smile on her lips is bittersweet, one that loves him so much, but also isn't willing to run from her husband for him. She squeezes his hand one more time, knowing the hurt is still too fresh, before she gently lets go.

"I hope so, Logan. At least get to see you at that dance. Maybe I can tempt you into one." A ghost of hope crosses her smile, "But, if not... Dinner in a few weeks? You know where to find me. Please... don't be a stranger. Not that we're back in each other's lives. It's all... too damn short to keep avoiding each other because of what might have been."

With that, she turns on the ball of her foot and moves to head back into the park as night starts falling around them. She probably needs to get back to base and it's a few hours drive down to Delaware from here, but it was worth it to see him. She leaves nothing in her wake but the faint scent of vanilla and roses, the same perfume oil she's been wearing for 70 years.

Logan Howlett has posed:
No matter how badly Logan wants to be with Peggy, he would never, ever ask her to leave her husband. How could he? Logan's always been out for the self, it's instinct...it's what he knows. Helping people was his redemption from that mentality. He just...he loves Peggy too much to try and ruin her life or anything like that. He feels her hand squeeze his that light moment.

"I'll try not to be. If you need a hand...you know how to find me." quite literally, considering she knew exactly where he was today. He remains where he is as he watches her turn on the ball of her foot, the scent of roses and vanilla fills his nose, far more than it would a normal person.

and he remembers.

He remembers that first dance with Peggy. Hand on her hip, the other in hers as they danced on the floor. The first time in a long time he wore a suit. She wore that nice red dress. The memory makes him smile a moment s he watches her leave. He exhales then.

"...why was I ever called Lucky." He mutters to himself as he sits back on the bench, and watches what never was.