On a deserted beach on an uncharted island, Agent Margaret Carter's brown eyes fluttered open. She wiped some of her brunette hair out of her face and felt the sand tumble onto her eyelids. She kept her hand in front of her face, creating a shadow of protection from the unobstructed sun.

Peggy groaned as the air filled her lungs. It felt like every bone in her body was broken. She coughed instinctively, breathing harder as she heaved herself up, propping herself on her elbows. In front of her, the perfect, teal blue ocean stretched out seemingly forever with large, column-like islands that stood out on the horizon.

Where am I? She thought. How had she gotten here? Peggy had no idea. The last thing she remembered was... why was it all so fuzzy? - was Agent Sousa's lips and the feeling of his hands as they caressed her body, pulling her closer to him.

She looked down. Her dress was torn and tattered. Whatever its original colour had been, there was no indication now. It was coated in blood that had dried and crusted over in the heat of the sun. She pulled up her dress, examined her leg while grunting because of the aches and pains. It wasn't broken, but there were bruises lining the whole thing. She sighed, assuming her whole body was similar.

Thoughts raced through her head. Who did it? Was it Dotty Underwood? She hoped it was Dotty Underwood. Then she could kick her butt when she got back.

If she got back.

For the first time, Peggy looked behind. She was trapped, it seemed, by a large, lustrous cliff.

She had to get out of the sun. Her mouth was dry and she was barely salivating. Peggy groaned again as she turned onto her stomach, digging her elbow into the sand. She pulled herself across the beach, ignoring the vile that rose in the throat as pain shot through her entire body.

"You can do this, Peggy," she muttered to herself. "You can do this." She just had to get out of the elements, heal and get rescued. No problem. The SSR would be looking for her. She just had to help them find her. And quickly. After seventy-two hours they would not be trying to rescue her anymore. After seventy-two hours they would be doing a body recovery. So she had three days, at the most. Less, most likely, for she had not an inkling of how long she had spent laying in the sun unconscious. It could have been a day or just a few hours. Either way, a plane would be coming around and she needed to signal it.

She tried to get her feet under her, to stand. She swore to herself.  All her life there were people trying to help her because they thought she could not help herself, and the moment she could use a bit of assistance, no one was there. Actually, she was glad no one from the station was here. They'd never let her forget it. 

Do not look back. She told herself, trying to bury the impulse to look back at the water. She knew she hadn't gotten far, the mountains were still far off, but she couldn't discourage herself. She was going to get there.

When she got there the sun had shifted in the sky and the cliff now provided shade across half the beach. Peggy leaned against the cool rocks, sighing as she let her aching body rest. She looked around, there had to be a way up. 

Indents in the sand caught her eye. Footprints! There were others here. They were old but still visible. Peggy patted down her body, smiling when she hit metal. She pulled out her gun, at least she had it. She opened the barrel. Three shots.

That wasn't reassuring. She slipped the gun back into its concealed area in her dress. Her head was spinning now and her lips were cracked. There were black dots floating about in the corners of her eyes.

She turned to the rockbed. There was a narrow trail, well-traversed, leading all the way up. Peggy rubbed her eyes. She could feel the energy leaving her as thoughts swirled in her mind. What if someone came down while she was climbing up? What if they were hostile? Could she even make it up? Her lower lip quivered. Peggy couldn't see the top. It was a long, hot climb and she could barely get herself across a beach. She had no hope of reaching the top and no idea what awaited her there.

Do you want to give up? A voice told her. Weak, it called her. A failure. All those brains couldn't save from the sun. If she was a man, maybe she wouldn't even be here.

"Shut up!" She hollered, covering her ear with her hands and shaking her head.

"You can do this, Peggy." She muttered, using the cliffside as a support as she struggles to her feet. Just one foot in front of the other. Left, right. Left, right. Just like the soldiers used to chant when the war was still on.

Changing to herself, Peggy staggered for a second before her feet began to move. One foot in front of the other, using the rocks as support, Agent Carter ground her teeth as she started to scale the mountain.