America's Sweetheart (Steve Rogers) - 1

8

Italy wasn't really as described when people spoke of it. Not at the moment with all the conflict anyway. The soldiers were all camping in rubbish conditions. It wasn't ideal, but Mo wasn't about to complain when there was a full-on war raging on as well as the threat of Johaan Schmidt.

They'd been called in after the Battle of Azzano had gone horribly wrong and as a result, most of the 107 regiment were lost or captured. Phillips had sent her out on surveillance flights, but each had come back with nothing.

"Surely there's something more I can do!" She'd stated as the Colonel ordered an immediate start to typing up condolence letters. "I can get up there again and..."

"And what Carter? Two searches have come back with nothing, which means there is nothing else left to do. Any rescue missions would lose us more men and valuable time. You're keeping your feet on the ground. Those men are as good as lost to us – end of discussion." He barked.

Mo looked furiously at him.

"You don't like the way things are done Carter then you can get your ass back home. Do you have anything else that you would like to say?"

"No sir." She replied through gritted teeth.

"Good choice, now get back in that hangar and do whatever it is you do when you're not filing papers."

She turned on her heel and stormed out of the tent – which wasn't even that. It was simply shielding Phillips from the rain while he carried out his business. The rain had held off for now, but there was no doubt that it was fall again later, dampening everyone's spirits even more than they already had been.

This war needed Steve. It was why Erskine had believed in him. he had heart. He could easily fight off anyone and anything that was thrown at him. Yet Phillips still hadn't backed down when she'd brought it up on various occasions.

Mo was so engrossed in beating the hell out of one of the grounded planes engines that she didn't even hear Peggy cough until her sister called her name. "Seems you've not changed your ways when it comes to fixing things."

She stopped and shook her head. "He called off the search!"

Peggy smiled weakly. Even she knew it was fruitless to try and find any survivors now. "I know...but you tried."

"Not hard enough." Mo smashed the wrench against the planes body and then chucked it onto the ground. "I'm not even a soldier and yet...I feel like one."

Peggy settled herself on a crate., one leg crossing over the other. "Guess we didn't really know what Michael was getting us into did we?" she said gently.

"Don't bring him into this..."

"Mo."

"I said don't!" Mo snapped, taking a dirty rag and wiping her hands. "Sometimes I wonder whether he just put our names forward for a jolly good laugh! Because with me he most certainly did!"

She'd not had time to truly mourn the death of her brother. Everything had happened so quickly that she'd not really had time to process. One moment the news had been brought to them while helping Peggy to try on her wedding dress and the next? She was on her way to America. "He was giving you a chance to show everyone your potential."

"And just when have I even had a chance to?" Peggy said nothing at this. "Exactly. I should've stayed in England. At least there I made an impact more so than over here."

Peggy watched her sister. Mo had always been the one who was quite forgotten over her and Michael. She was still young, only a couple of years apart from her but out of the three of them? She was the one who held the most courage.