the end of the war came swiftly once steve rogers had made his final descent into the arctic taking most of hydra with him. in the whirlwind, peggy held onto her grief, keeping it tucked between her ribs for safekeeping as she continued on, stony and unrelenting. she returned to new york in the aftermath, doing what she could to put together arrangements for a funeral crowded with people who’d never so much as shaken steve’s hand. he was a figure now, an idol, immortalized in stone as they buried an empty casket for show, giving the soap opera mourners a place to lay flowers and pay their respects.
and steve deserved every ounce of it. he deserved the praise and the spot in the history books. he deserved their tears, but he would have hated every moment of the showy parade and the long winded speeches. even president truman’s staunch eulogy would have had him shifting uncomfortably in his seat. the grim sobriety suited harry, just as it had at roosevelt’s funeral months earlier. the public grieved, domestically and abroad, as hearts were torn between the exuberant end of the war and the ashes they’d all been left with.
reality set in. some couldn’t grapple with those truths.
even then, they sat in silence. howard and peggy each manned with their own glass of brown liquor as they sat on his veranda overlooking midtown. already winter was settling in, drawing peggy further into her wool coat, though it’d already seeped through to her bones. she wasn’t sure she’d ever be rid of the chill–– so young, so many ghosts. they sat side by side, the silence far from strained where each one of them frolicked in their own memory–– what they could have said, what they should have. it was their burden to carry that weight now.
peggy raised the glass to her mouth, taking a short sip that only burned moments later, heating her gut and setting fire to her throat as she shifted her weight in place. she’d had a confession on her mind for months, unsaid and ever present, and her tongue was just loose enough to let it slip. perhaps it would bring comfort to her friend, perhaps it would bring her some too.
❛ howard–– ❜ she started, floundering for a beat, her mouth hanging open. ❛ he loved you, you know. ❜
sc. / @madetheshield