ACCIDENT | STEVE ROGERS

chapter five ; the night before

Ginny had not realised how difficult it would be to say goodbye to the strange world she was in. To bid farewell to the friends she had made. To the very notion of being useful. Her departure had been inevitable from the moment she stepped foot in Camp Lehigh, but now, peculiarly so, she didn't want it to end.

She had been given marching orders to leave with Erskine by the end of the evening. Night had truly settled as she walked to her hut for the final time. She imagined Steve struggling to rest in his own barrack, tossing and turning as the weight of the world settled upon his shoulders. She could only hope that Erskine had been reassuring - the more she thought about it, the more she doubted that her act of vandalism was the appropriate way to ease him into his new world.

Ginny had a sliver of time to ready herself for departure, so packed her bag as neatly as she could. Many objects were untouched - her nicest dress and her book, for starters - so it was merely a task of arranging her toiletries and undergarments. She left the bag slightly open and perched at the end of the bed with her lipstick and pins, readying herself for the journey ahead. It was more a distraction than anything else.

The door to the hut open and Peggy slipped in, stifling a yawn and rubbing at her eyes. Ginny smiled up at her, lipstick clasped between her fingers as she slicked it over her bottom lip.

"Evening." Peggy grumbled in greeting.

"Evening." Ginny said. She set the lipstick down and rummaged back through her bag in search of her mother's perfume.

"It's a shame this is all over. I was quite enjoying gossiping with you all night." Peggy said. She stretched out her arms and reached for her bedclothes.

Ginny felt her heart warm. She paused before applying her perfume to look up at Peggy. "When the war's over and they decide they don't want women in serious jobs, let's get a little apartment and be secretaries together."

Peggy snorted as she got peeled off her blouse. "We'd be dreadful secretaries."

Ginny forced a chuckle and wondered if she should tell her that she was a secretary. But instead she turned, finished making herself look presentable and shoved the last of her belongings into her bag. She stood and stepped over to Peggy with her hand outstretched. The British woman was sat on her own bed, unpinning her hair and placing the pins in a small pouch.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She said. Peggy smiled, clasping her hand and squeezing it.

Ginny turned back to her neatly-made bed and grabbed her bag, checking over the mattress and pillow in search for any loose items. When satisfied that her few belongings were on her person, she carefully closed the door behind her. She turned and jogged down the stairs, her bag thumping against her leg.

They had vaguely implied that the car that brought her to camp would be the one to return her, so she looked around to try and spot the mysterious vehicle. With her luck, it would materialise when she least expected it.

Fitzpatrick snuck into her line of sight, and Ginny's breath caught in her throat. She couldn't deny the relief in getting the chance to say goodbye. The thought had been sitting in the back of her head, but she had been trying not to entertain it.

"Agent Henley." He strode over to her with his hands clasped behind his back. His face was half-illuminated by a nearby light, casting doubt on his serious expression. Even if she squinted, she couldn't find a glimmer of mischief in those eyes. The blue and green muddled together in the artificial glow.

"Agent Fitzpatrick." She nodded to him in greeting. A blanket of awkwardness clung to the thick summer breeze and draped itself over their shoulders.

"See you're all packed." He gestured towards her bag. Ginny glanced down at the swinging leather duffel in mild confusion. Her heart clenched at his dull topic of conversation; was the fun they shared merely an act reserved for co-workers?