A/N - I'm sorry if I make you guys cry. Enjoy!
Church
.
.
.
When he was younger, the local Christian church was his safe house. There, the adults showered him in presents and the children treated him like an equal, not an outcast. Sometimes the priest would ask him to come up to the podium and read a passage from the Bible. His mom would smile every Sunday and he'd receive letters from his father who was abroad in another country.
Back then, they weren't the richest of families. They did what they could to get by. Whatever money his dad could send he sent. Whatever job his mom could take on she took. And him? Well, he couldn't do much due to his allergies and health problems.
But church was where he didn't have doubts or worries or fears because he knew God was looking out for him and his mom and his dad. Nothing could touch him if he had faith and determination.
Later, as the war turned Brooklyn's economy poor and the war took his dad away from him, Steve realized how difficult it was for everything to stay the same. Nobody asked for change but got it anyway, got it regardless of what they originally wanted.
His mom couldn't be in his life forever. Eventually, she had to die. He'd been hoping she would last long enough to see him become someone, somebody, before she passed. He still remembers the nights he spent praying to God at the mosque (he wasn't Jewish but it was the only church nearby in his neighborhood). He would sit and pray and hope and deflate and cry. His family was gone.
He had Bucky, thank goodness, but the first year was harder than any loss he ever faced. He struggled to get decent jobs to pay rent and was constantly having to get money from Bucky when he couldn't meet his ends.
Bucky didn't mind. He was relaxed about it. Steve and him were best friends since childhood. They were brothers til the end of the line. Nothing could stop them from taking over the world together.
(The world slows as he recalls the sound of Bucky's screams. He internally winces. It's not like that anymore.)
But this is the final straw.
Because he sees Peggy's picture and wonders about their dance.
Because he sees Peggy's picture and wonders what the hell she was doing while he was frozen in the ice.
Because he sees Peggy's picture and it finally sets in that he is alone.
She's gone. She's dead. She's passed. And his life is swirling in an endless dark cloud.
He's not alone in the fight with Tony, that he knows for sure. But he's alone right now in this century. He shouldn't even be here. He should be dead like the rest of the Howling Commandos.
It sinks his heart like an anchor to a ship. This, this sick and twisted feeling inside his gut. He is alone. There is no denial about it. There is no hiding it. But he wears a mask like he's worn it his whole life.
Something so minuscule almost makes his tears fall. Someone so important he's never regretted knowing almost makes him do the unthinkable.
"I didn't want you to be alone."
He thinks this is love.
(Her hug feels like home.)