A/N: Our hearts with all those affected by the tragedy in Paris.
Disclaimer: I wish I owned Captain America ;) Seeing as this fic is Steggy (to start off with) it's dedicated to you Van!
It was unreasonable, he knew. He shouldn't, couldn't have expected her to remain alone. He had no doubt that she had tried, but a person like her – well such a deserving person could never have stayed alone for all eternity.
Better that she was happy. Only – well, he'd once hoped she'd be happy with him. He could still see, in his minds-eye, the dame that had told him she believed he was meant for greater things. He could still see the small grin as, having dispatched Hodge with efficient ease, she innocently deferred to Colonel Phillips' authority.
He could still see her.
And he could still see her legacy. Every last man and woman of S.H.I.E.L.D. – he was surrounded by it, her life's work, an organisation born of her blood and sweat and tears. Her actions had probably saved millions of people who wouldn't understand (would never understand, the suffering of this incredible woman, whose story remained untold in an occupation inherent with misogyny.)
And though he kept reminding himself it was impossible, he couldn't help but dream. He couldn't stamp it out, that tiny irrational kernel of hope, that faith in a what-if and what-might-have-been.
It was because of this hope he couldn't quite quash that he visited Peggy in the first place, entering the nursing home and sitting himself down.
Because for him, everything was still fresh, painful – a matter of months, not decades. Seeing her was a slap in the face. Everyone he had known was now dead, except her – and she was dying, desperately clinging to the last frail vestiges of life. To be hale, whole, unchanged while she neared the end – it was an agonising reminder that to her their time together had been a whole other life, relegated now to the murky depths of half-forgotten memory.
She'd recognised him immediately when she woke and everything faded in the light of their reunion, the joy inside him surging to fever-pitch – but the smiling photos at her bedside were a stark reminder of what would never be.
He only left an hour later (once she was asleep) and in the emptiness of his apartment, he finally bowed his head and wept.