[ She exhales explosively, the soft thud of the back of her head dropping against the stable wall likely audible. The reprimand isn't necessarily unwarranted, she'd likely say the exact same in his position. To go haring off without a second thought, make a decision that impacts more than just herself, however small, however well-intended. Until the SSR, Peggy truly had learned to appreciate working alone. Partners are complicated in all senses of the word. But people like Daniel Sousa and Edwin Jarvis have taught her it's all right to place some trust in others, to share the load.
Your desire to help others is noble, but I doubt you'll find much success unless you allow others to help you.
Too bloody true, Mr Jarvis. And this is what she gets for trying to do right by that. But while she understands where Eggsy is coming from, she can't help but bristle a little. What she almost says is for fuck's sake; what she almost says is this is precisely why I thought about not telling you — but she bites it back for something else. Something less emotional, less accusatory. ]
I'm not one to mix the personal and professional. We don't owe him every aspect of our lives. [ Low, firm. ] If the situation arises where it might be better to do so, then yes. But I'm not here to put someone else in the thick of it — if there's any blowback from a decision I make, then let it be on me. [ A pause. ] Like now.
[ It's the answer he'd expected, and the one he would have given, in her shoes — until the end.]
Peggy, I didn't mean to — I should have said earlier. [ Something, anything, even though words aren't his strong suit. He put himself in a compromised position, he revealed himself to Peggy, agreed to work with her, didn't say how much secrecy or openness he expected, made the mistake of assuming they were the same. No, he made the mistake of thinking she was Roxy. Because Peggy is so much of her: from confidence to competence (and warmth, he thinks, that too). Of course it isn't that simple, in the end. Of course she's her own woman from her own agency with its own rules and tendencies. He swallows. ] I won't mention him. Swear down.
[ He pauses, then. Like her, he wants to snap again: Do I get to know what he thought of the drawings? Are you still thinking about not telling me that, too? Instead, he says, ] What did he think of the drawings, then?
[ Because of course she was going to tell him. They found them together, and whatever Cree thinks of them is an opinion they wont be privy to, so it was important to seek out another. Taking them to someone with a little bit more expertise in biology, with a proper informed medical background, had been her reason for sharing the sketches. Because even with her own passable knowledge — it is the Strategic Scientific Reserve, after all — a second set of eyes is always helpful. ]
Remember what I said when we found them? That I'd encountered a gas that triggered similar effects? Turns out that sort of thing isn't isolated to one world or the next. [ Her tone all but says big surprise. Science is both wonderful and horrific. ] He'd seen experiments before, too. In both instances, they were invented for chemical warfare with the projects shut down because of how disastrous the results were.
[ For John, it was H.O.U.N.D. that created such a thing to trigger fear in the enemy to weaken them and resulted in paranoia, insanity. For her, it was Howard Stark and his blasted Midnight Oil meant to keep soldiers on their feet for days — which induced psychosis, aggression. The results of sleep deprivation. And, of course, death ]
You saw the notes. You can imagine what the scientists working on such a thing are after. The cases John and I worked had those results as side effects, they were never meant to be fatal — but they were weaponised because of it. Which doesn't bode well for our little discovery since it seems quite intentional.
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no subject
Your desire to help others is noble, but I doubt you'll find much success unless you allow others to help you.
Too bloody true, Mr Jarvis. And this is what she gets for trying to do right by that. But while she understands where Eggsy is coming from, she can't help but bristle a little. What she almost says is for fuck's sake; what she almost says is this is precisely why I thought about not telling you — but she bites it back for something else. Something less emotional, less accusatory. ]
I'm not one to mix the personal and professional. We don't owe him every aspect of our lives. [ Low, firm. ] If the situation arises where it might be better to do so, then yes. But I'm not here to put someone else in the thick of it — if there's any blowback from a decision I make, then let it be on me. [ A pause. ] Like now.
no subject
Peggy, I didn't mean to — I should have said earlier. [ Something, anything, even though words aren't his strong suit. He put himself in a compromised position, he revealed himself to Peggy, agreed to work with her, didn't say how much secrecy or openness he expected, made the mistake of assuming they were the same. No, he made the mistake of thinking she was Roxy. Because Peggy is so much of her: from confidence to competence (and warmth, he thinks, that too). Of course it isn't that simple, in the end. Of course she's her own woman from her own agency with its own rules and tendencies. He swallows. ] I won't mention him. Swear down.
[ He pauses, then. Like her, he wants to snap again: Do I get to know what he thought of the drawings? Are you still thinking about not telling me that, too? Instead, he says, ] What did he think of the drawings, then?
no subject
[ Because of course she was going to tell him. They found them together, and whatever Cree thinks of them is an opinion they wont be privy to, so it was important to seek out another. Taking them to someone with a little bit more expertise in biology, with a proper informed medical background, had been her reason for sharing the sketches. Because even with her own passable knowledge — it is the Strategic Scientific Reserve, after all — a second set of eyes is always helpful. ]
Remember what I said when we found them? That I'd encountered a gas that triggered similar effects? Turns out that sort of thing isn't isolated to one world or the next. [ Her tone all but says big surprise. Science is both wonderful and horrific. ] He'd seen experiments before, too. In both instances, they were invented for chemical warfare with the projects shut down because of how disastrous the results were.
[ For John, it was H.O.U.N.D. that created such a thing to trigger fear in the enemy to weaken them and resulted in paranoia, insanity. For her, it was Howard Stark and his blasted Midnight Oil meant to keep soldiers on their feet for days — which induced psychosis, aggression. The results of sleep deprivation. And, of course, death ]
You saw the notes. You can imagine what the scientists working on such a thing are after. The cases John and I worked had those results as side effects, they were never meant to be fatal — but they were weaponised because of it. Which doesn't bode well for our little discovery since it seems quite intentional.