Peggy rolled over the side of the cliff. She laid sprawled out on the lush grass, chest fluttering as she took short, quick breaths. She'd made it. Now what? There was no shelter up here, but at least she was off the beach. No one was around, but that might not last long. She needed to find her bearings before whoever lived here found here.

~~~~~~

Diana Prince awoke to the sound of a bird hitting her window. She pulled herself pit of her small London bed and crawled over to the only window in her one-room apartment.

A white dove cocked its head at her.

"I know you." She said as she opened the latches, letting the crisp might breeze in along with the smoke and city smells. The white dove jumped in, ruffling its perfect feathers.

Diana extended her index finger and the bird jumped on it. She examined its little yellow legs. Upon one there was a note, tied with an all-to-familiar string made of horse hair. Dare she open it? It had been nearly thirty years. Perhaps her mother was willing to take her back. Or maybe she had heard of her daughter's great fail. If she couldn't even stop the second war by killing Ares, why the would the Amazons ever want her back?

Mustering her courage, Diana untied the string and slipped the message off the bird's leg. It stretched out its wings and flew back out her window, relieved of its duty as a messenger.

Slowly, Diana unfolded the slip of paper. It crinkled as she did it, releasing smells of home.

Diana - dearest. It read, we need your help. An "Agent Carter" causing problems. Maybe you can help her home. Hippolyta

Diana blinked. Agent Carter? She knew that name. Peggy Carter was that girl Captain America had liked, but also an outstanding codebreaker in her own right. What had happened was sad, but the mortals deserved it for trying to play God.

But it wasn't only that. Margaret Carter's face was on every lamppost from London to Washington and beyond for the past few months. So much so that Diana had almost thought to consider helping. No one knew what happened to her and a man at the head of a government agency in Los Angeles was doing his level best to tear apart the world brick by brick to find her. Probably because he thought she was attractive. As much credit as Carter got for her efforts in the war, Diana had heard little of her until she disappeared, suggesting whatever she was up to was putting her high on lists of people deserving recognition.

Diana sighed. It was late and she was not thinking straight. She turned off her light and went back to her bed. She could make up her mind in the morning, after a proper nights' sleep. Besides, the thought of having to go back to work looming over her might just give her the push she needs to go back home. Wasn't that a lovely thought?

~~~~~~

Agent Carter had found the civilization. Carved into the rocks it was white and shinning. Women walked around dawning medieval weapons on cobblestone streets were dressed shockingly revealing. Aramadillos roamed freely. This was a strange place.

Carter had been hoping to borrow some sort of cape or overcoat to hide herself, but all the could find were white dresses, all to revealing, laced around metal armour. Her bruises would stick out like a sore thumb.

Who was she kidding? She was one gigantic, swelling sore thumb.

Instead, Peggy found herself stealing some water, food, and herbs she thought might have some medical properties in the dark of the night. She found an abandoned cave on the other side of the island that she made her new home in. She had a collection of dry leaves, ready to be lit at a moment's notice, but so far she had seen no planes nor boats passing by. It seemed she truly was on the edge of the world.

Every day, Peggy carved a notch into the cave wall, counting the days she had been stranded. She sighed as she made the fourth mark, marking the start of her fourth day. If anyone was coming, they would have come by now. It was well past the seventy-two-hour mark. No one was looking for Agent Carter anymore. They were looking for a dead body in some alleyway or stream to be mourned. Depending on how she'd disappeared, some might call her martyr or a patriot. Possibly a traitor if she'd been acting without the SSR again.

It was not until her twenty-first day that she contemplated giving the SSR a cadaver to find. Three weeks had passed, her wounds were healing, but three weeks had passed. No one had come. Peggy sat in the cave, on the cot she had made for herself, wondering what she was doing here and why she bothered staying.

The tribe seemed hostile, primitive even, with no technology in sight. It was possible this island had never even been mapped and these people had survived on their own. That was until she noticed that there were no men or children on the island. Either she was going mad or this place was truly something out of legend. Either way, Agent Carter had had enough of the island. She stood on the cliff's edge near her cave, the wind rustling her chestnut hair, which had grown unchecked and was now well past her shoulders. She closed her eyes and spread out her arms, taking in the scents of the world one last time. She lifted one foot up and dangled it over the edge.

I'll meet you soon, Steve. She thought into the wind. And I'm sorry Sousa. I'm so sorry.

But as she leaned forward with a reunion with Steve on her mind, ready to jump onto the rocks below, a hand shot out from behind her and grabbed her arm.