Dear Peggy Carter,

Again

So I just went back and read this and...um I'm just going to put a MAJOR ANGST WARNING
MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR ATTEMPTED TOASTER BATHTUB AND SH (that's self harm)

"Ah, Ms. Carter, thair you are." Edwind Jarvice said opening the door.

Jarvice was a taller man, with short hair and still in his day clothes. He was a friend of Peggy Carter and Howard Stark's butler.

Typicly, Jarvis was very good with socal situations (With the exemption of some unusual mannerisms) ; but this was one he didn't know how to respond too, so he did as any good butler would when put into a situation like this.

He acted asif his close friend and the women he helped put into prison and whom tried to kill them both several times weren't, centimeters away from each other's faces. Both with a very compromising position.

One he'd cought Mr.Stark in more than once.

"Now now then, inside." he opend the door and stood infront of it to keep it opend. The two women walked in, Peggy led Dottie and herself to her room while Jarvis retired for the night. The house was big and even dottie found it hard to keep track of how many lefts and rights were taken to get to Peggy's room.

Peggy's room was big, and it made Dottie quite uncomfortable she never did like wide open spaces.

"Sit thair for a moment I'll find you some night clothes, do you prefer pants or a gown."

Dottie sat down on the corner of the bed. "Oh, um..." she thought for a moment, chosing her sleep atire wasn't something she typically got to do.

"Gown please." Peggy nodded and walked over to her warobe. she grabbed a night gown and handed it to Dottie.

"Changeing curton is there. Once we're both set for the night well talk about, everything." dottie got up and went behind the curtin and began to undress.

The night gown that dottie had was soft, it was made of a fine linnin, and had a small embroidered pattern on the hem at the bottom.

The arms were left exposed. It made Dottie suddenly hyper aware of the scars that littered her arms.

Not just the ones from the prison, but the ones from The Red Room.

The ones from past missions.

Peggy had never seen them. What would she say when she did?

would she even acknowledge them?

She traced the dark scars with the tip of her finger.

"Dottie, everything ok?"

Dottie steped from behind and walked back over to the bed. "Ya, sorry Peg I got a bit distracted looking at the hem pattern is all."

Peggy nodded and walked around to get changed behind the curtin. She walked back around in her pajamas, just light blue wool pants and the matching button up. She sat next to Dottie on the bed.

"So." Peggy said. keeping her head down.

"So." Dottie said with the same aptitude.

"You broke me out."

Peggy nodded. "I did... I did do that." Dottie mimicked Peggy's body language.

"Why?"

"A mission. You're the best for the job." Dottie nodded. "And? There's something you're not saying Peg."

"It's nothing for you to worry about Dottie. But I do have a question for you." And all at once Dottie felt asif a pound of lead was pulling at her stomach.

Peggy gently and slowly reached out and grabbed Dottie's hands.

She gingerly slid her right thumb up and down a particularly nasty scar.

Dottie winced at the memory it brought back.

The overwhelming hopelessness she felt. The part of her brain that kept asking,

what if none of this was real?

What if you're still in the red room?

That's right,

this is all a sick state of psychosis.

None of it's real.

You're probably just locked up in a room somewhere, this is ALL in your head.....

She vividly remembered wakening up in her bathtub at the Griffith, stitches in her arm and a tyal floor spotted with blood.

She just wanted the thoughts to stop going so fast, and it was the easiest way.

"Have you been hurting yourself?" Dottie shook her head. Pulling her arms away in a worrisome manner.

Dorothy Underwood, had never been cought so off guard.

Not as a spy,

not as an assassin,

not even as a prisoner.

She brought her knees close to her chest and backed into the bedframe.

She brought her arms around her knees and slowly started to scratch one of her arms.

"I-we- No, no I'm not doing anything, anything, like that."

Dottie let out a half hearted chuckle as she went to talk again. "Geez Peg, the I mean way t' catch a girl off guard, ah hehe."

Peggy gave a very stern look as she glanced up through her eyebrows, "Dottie-" she said slowly picking her head up and now looking at the blond with a more calming sort of glare but still a look that was series.

"We need you for a very important mission, and I need you at your best."

Dottie started to notes the stinging sensation on her arm, it quickly got worse then cooled as she scratched harder at the spot on her arm.

"Peggy, I'm ok, I can do this, I've been doing it my whole life."

Dottie said in a reassuring voice, it might have been convincing if Dotties arm hadn't been bleeding enough for Peggy to take note.

"Dottie, I'll ask you one more time." Peggy said. "Are you, or have you been hurting yourself?"

Dottie shook her head once more.

"You're scars are resent, and you've scratched your arm to the point of it bleeding, so for gods sake Dorothy Underwood what is wrong."

Dottie had reached her breaking point.

"I TRIED TO KILL MYSELF AGAIN!-"

Dottie put her hands over her ears and put her head onto her knees.

Peggy froze.

"Again?"

Peggy said processing.

As she attempted to approach Dottie, she flinched away.

"Hey, hey, Dottie, I'm not here to hurt you, okay?"

Dottie slowly started to relax, and after about an hour of Peggy sort of just talking at her, in an attempted to soothe her, she was finally able to respond.

Dottie was now in Peggy's lap, she had her head on one of Peggy's shoulders, and she was sitting with her legs out to one side.

"You know we've gotta talk about it."
Peggy said in a calm voice.

Just as Dottie opened her mouth to respond.
"No- don't even think about apologizing Dottie this isn't your fault. Ok? So please don't blame yourself."

There was a moment of silence. "You said again."

Dottie sat thinking. She rubbed the dark scar on her arm.

You could see where the stitches were lined along the concave scar.

"Ya." She said her voice lined with shame. "The first time was at the Griffith, the second was in the prison."

Peggy rocked gently back and forth. "We should get some rest."