Firstly, a huge thank you to everyone who took the time to read my first Steve/Peggy story 'It Happened One Night'. You don't know how much it means to me. Once again, I've had a blast writing this. These characters are so fun to explore!

The title comes from Welcome to the Black Parade by My Chemical Romance – my Secondary school self is giddy.

Summary: Set during CA:TWS and post-Agent Carter S2. An AU tie-in. 'Son, when you grow up will you be the saviour of the broken, the beaten and the damned?' How many lifetimes would it take to make up for all of your past mistakes? Steve/Peggy. Steve+Bucky friendship. Peggy+Bucky friendship.

The Broken, the Beaten, and the Damned
Chapter 1

"A symbol to the nation. A hero to the world. The story of Captain America is one of honour, bravery and sacrifice."

He hadn't meant to walk to the Smithsonian Institute. He certainly hadn't meant to pay the entrance fee and take the escalator up to the Captain America: The Living Legend and Symbol of Courage exhibition. And yet, here was where Steve Rogers found himself. Adopting a poor disguise of a baseball cap and a meek demeanour, Steve allowed the crowds to lead him slowly through the gallery. The artistic construction of the exhibit with the voice-over, the mood lighting and vast collection of memorabilia created a general atmosphere of inspired awe. Steve, however, found it surreal to be shown his life as though it belonged to someone else. With just a hint of bitterness, he supposed this life did belong to someone else. The people surrounding him marvelled at the myth, not the man. The people who knew the man – really and truly knew the man – were all gone.

Steve was led through the pre-war years, Project Rebirth, the USO tour, liberating the 107th in Azzano, Italy, and forming the Howling Commandos before he had to pause. He was starting to feel overwhelmed. He hung back, allowing the crowd to pass, and stared over their heads at the mannequins that displayed the motley crew of the Howling Commandos in their battle regalia. The mannequin Captain America stood front and centre, flanked by Bucky and Dugan. He smiled to himself despite the nostalgic drop in his stomach, glad that they, at least, were receiving the honour that they deserved.

An intense melancholy washed over him. The press of the crowd suddenly felt too oppressive. Steve pushed through, mumbling apologies as he forced his way through the tight pack of bodies. Suddenly, he found that he'd turned himself around with no idea as to where the exit was. He ducked into a small room. A documentary was mid-way through playing. A blonde mother and daughter were both too engrossed in the film to notice who had joined them. Steve dropped onto the far end of the bench where they sat. He tipped his head into his hands and rubbed at his temples, grateful for the air conditioning that cooled the back of his flushed neck.

"…thought someone was yankin' my chain the first time I met him."

Steve's head snapped up. Howard Stark's smiling face filled the screen, talking casually passed the camera to, he presumed, whoever was interviewing him. Howard looked older than when Steve had last seen him: new wrinkles lined his eyes and his hair had started to grey at the temples. Naturally, this only made Howard look more distinguished.

"Here I was with the Vita-Ray machine set up and Erskine's serum at the ready and in walks Peggy with this scrawny kid who could barely fill his uniform," Howard recalled with a smile. "I remember thinkin' 'This is the best the US army has to offer?' I was waitin' for someone to pull the punchline, y'know? 'Just kiddin', here's the real guy!' and out steps a marine but mostly everyone was serious about Rogers."

"From my understanding, the SSR had many potential candidates for Project Rebirth – some of whom would have been deemed more suitable for the job," the off-screen voice of the interviewer stated. "Why was Rogers chosen over all of them?"

"Dr. Erskine knew what he wanted. He wasn't lookin' for someone who ticked all the right boxes on the outside; he wanted someone who was good on the inside."

"And that was Rogers?"

"And that was Rogers," Howard confirmed. "Peggy told me afterward that durin' basic trainin', Phillips threw a grenade – a dummy, of course, but no one knew that at the time – into the middle of Steve's unit. Peg said that whilst all these big, burly soldiers scrambled out the way or hit the deck, Steve threw himself on top of the grenade and shouted at everyone else to get clear. That was what made Steve Rogers Captain America – not the serum or the shield but the innate goodness that was inside him. He was Captain America long before we at the SSR got our mitts on him."

"Do you think Dr. Erskine would have been proud of Captain Rogers?"

"Without a doubt," Howard said unhesitatingly. "We lost Erskine and the last of his serum moments after Rogers' transformation. I think he would have been proud to know that if there was only ever one super soldier, it was Steve."

"You speak very highly of Captain Rogers."

"He was the best of us."

"So, you've mentioned Peggy a few times; I take it you're referring to Agent Margaret Carter?" the interviewer asked. "From my understanding, she was the one who cleared your name in 1946 after you were framed for selling weapons of mass destruction on the black market."

"Yeah, that wasn't a pleasant time," Howard said with a self-deprecating grin, "but it helped knowin' that Peggy had my back - even when it went against her better judgement. She could have lost everythin', and very nearly did. For a short time, she was labelled a traitor to the U.S. and that could have led to a death sentence. Despite that, she refused to back down. She was unwaveringly loyal to those she cared about – somethin' that she shared with Steve."

"And how involved was she with Project Rebirth?"

"Oh, she was involved with Project Rebirth near enough every step of the way," Howard said. "Certainly in every way that mattered. She played just as important a role as Phillips and me. In fact, if she hadn't busted Erskine out of Schmidt's imprisonment then there would have been no Project Rebirth and no Captain America. After the war she continued workin' as an operative for the SSR and became one of their leadin' agents. She really paved the way for other female operatives."

"She sounds pretty fascinating."

A shadow passed across Howard's face and his lips pursed. "She… she was, yeah."

"I understand she was the last person to speak to Captain Rogers before his plane went down."

Gone was the easy-going charm that Steve had first encountered in the interview. Howard's jaw was tightly locked, his mouth a rigid line as he struggled to contain his emotions. How many times had Steve seen the same method employed by Tony? Howard gave a jerk of his head in the affirmative.

"Can you tell us what she said?" the interviewer pressed.

Howard tried and failed to smile. "I'd assume she was tryin' to tell him how to safely land a plane."

Howard's careful deflection told Steve that he knew all about their last conversation. Had Peggy confided in him? Or had it been recorded, committing every word spoken between them to tape? If the latter, then Steve sincerely hoped that recording hadn't survived the last seventy years, as he had. The last thing he wanted was to reach the end of the exhibition to hear his and Peggy's final goodbye playing in unapologetic surround sound.

"Rogers was Army, so the government didn't think it necessary to teach him how to pilot an aircraft." A pause. "To their, and our, everlastin' regret."

An unfathomable emotion shone behind Howard's determinedly dry eyes as he slowly faded to black and quiet, orchestral music faded in. The title-card appeared on-screen: white text on a black background.

The Scientific Strategic Reserve continued its work until the Spring of 1947 when Howard Stark, Colonel Chester Phillips, and Agent Margaret Carter started to form the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. Now, more commonly referred to as S.H.I.E.L.D.

The writing faded to reveal a candid photograph of Dr. Erskine. He wore his tweed three-piece suit, glasses, and fedora hat. He was in the process of either removing his glasses to polish them or returning them post-polish. White text appeared beside his image.

Dr. Albert Erskine was killed by Heinz Kruger, an agent of rogue-Nazi division HYDRA, moments after the successful transformation of Steve Rogers in 1943.

His work with the Super Soldier Serum has never been successfully replicated.

Slowly, the image and text faded to be replaced with Peggy in her dress uniform, positioned to the left and looking away from the camera with the barest hint of a smile.

Agent Margaret Carter, better known as Peggy, was Killed in Action whilst evacuating civilians during the Stark Industries bombing of 1947. She was posthumously named a founder of S.H.I.E.L.D. alongside Stark and Phillips.

Her body was returned to Hampstead Heath, London, where she was buried beside her brother, Michael.

From his pants pocket, Steve retrieved the gold compass of his father's and popped it open. The slightly weathered image of Peggy, hastily cut from a newspaper article over seventy years ago, still resided in the inside cover. Fury had said it was the one thing he'd been clutching when they thawed out his body. Similarly to the documentary, she wore another one of her teasing almost-smiles.

He'd known; of course, he'd known. Once the dust from the Battle of New York had settled and he'd been firmly established in Washington D.C., Steve had requested every file that S.H.I.E.L.D. had on his former friends. He'd spent a sombre afternoon in his apartment learning the fates of them all. The original Howling Commandos, he had been both pleased and relieved to read, had all survived the war and lived long (and hopefully happy) lives. He hadn't been surprised by the news of Howard – he'd already met Tony, after all; he knew the story there. But Peggy… his Peggy… his best girl. She'd live for two years, two measly years, after surviving one of the worst wars in living history. He'd known Nazi's and Nazi-collaborators who had lived longer lives.

Again, the image and text faded to be replaced with a photograph of a younger Howard. He was positioned similarly to Peggy, wearing a shirt, tie and jumper with a light jacket over the top but stared into the camera with an uncharacteristically sombre expression.

Howard Stark and his wife, Maria, died in a car crash in 1991. Stark Industries continues to run as a multinational company of industry.

Their son, Anthony Stark, is the popular superhero, Iron Man.

Another transition to an image of Colonel Phillips. He was also in his dress uniform, hat perched upon his head, positioned to the left like Peggy and Howard and looking grimly into the camera.

Colonel Chester Phillips eventually retired from service and died of cancer-related pneumonia in 1970, aged ninety-three.

He was the only founding member of Project Rebirth to die of natural causes.

One last transition saw Steve staring at his own face; not as Captain America but as himself. The candid shot showed pre-serum Steve Rogers at Camp Lehigh, wearing the plain t-shirt that hung off his frame and dog tags around his neck. He hadn't even known this photograph existed. He remembered how proud he had felt the first time he'd donned his dog tags, wondering whether the father he had never met was proud of him too.

Believed dead for nearly seventy years, Captain Steven Rogers was discovered in 2012 in the Arctic circle. He was perfectly preserved in ice.

He continues his work as Captain America and leads S.H.I.E.L.D. initiative, the Avengers, alongside Iron Man.

The screen faded to black one final time as the music reached its crescendo and the crew names started to roll. Steve remained, still clutching the compass in one hand. With his other, he brought his fingers up to lightly run over the newsprint of Peggy's face.

He hadn't been prepared – why had no one prepared him? – when he'd sat in his apartment, flipped Tony Starks' S.H.I.E.L.D. file over (included for reference) and seen Peggy's file with the red KILLED IN ACTION stamped diagonally across the centre.

CARTER, MARGARET

DOB: 04/09/1919

DOD: 07/04/1947

Cause of Death: Significant blunt force trauma; Pulmonary Haemorrhage

Other relatable injuries: Tympanic membrane rupture; Fracture to right femur; Severe burns to right-side of face; Smoke inhalation

Steve had done the only thing he could do in this day and age – he'd taken to the internet. He'd read every report from that day; every statement including those by Howard Stark, his butler, Edwin Jarvis, and an Agent Daniel Sousa; the minutes taken by the court clerk at the inquest; the Wikipedia page; more newspaper articles than he could count… he'd read until four-thirty the following morning when his eyes itched with tiredness and the alarm clock blared to tell him it was time for his morning run.

And so, he'd gone running. He'd run faster and harder than he'd ever run before. He'd lapped Sam Wilson more than twice his usual amount of times. He'd run until his chest burned, actually burned, and he was short of breath. It was like returning to his pre-serum self when he had suffered from asthma attacks. He'd run until he couldn't run anymore. It still wasn't enough. He knew that if he stopped then he would start to imagine it – a blazing fire, the sound of someone cloying for breath, a pale limb buried beneath a pile of rubble…

He'd taken himself to the basement gym in the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. He'd wrapped his hands tightly, foregoing the boxing gloves, and started violently sparring with the punching bag. No one approached him. No one dared. He hadn't beaten his frustrations out like this since first waking from the ice, when Fury had approached him with the Avengers initiative. This punching bag was sturdier than the ones in the New York boxing club so, instead of punching them out of the ceiling, he simply kept hitting until his knuckles were bloody. It must have been hours since he'd started. His knuckles had already tried to heal themselves three times; the skin attempting to knit itself back together even as Steve's punches tore it apart again.

Significant… BAM… trauma… THUMP… blazing fire… SMACK… haemorrhage…swiiiiing… rupture… WHACK… cloying for breath… THUMP… fracture… BAM… burns… swiiiiing… inhalation. A pale limb. Significant Trauma. Cloying for breath. Severe burns. BAM! BAM! BAM!

He had only stopped when the sweat running into his eyes had made it difficult to see before finally realising that it wasn't sweat at all, but unshed tears. That had surprised him. Steve Rogers didn't cry – pre-or-post-serum. The last time he had allowed himself to cry was when Bucky had died and before that his Ma.

"Er… sir?"

Steve blinked himself back into the present. It was silent now. The screen playing the film had turned off and the lights in the room had lifted. The mother and daughter were both gone.

A pimply kid in a Smithsonian Institute Tour Guide polo shirt was staring at him.

"If you wanna watch the video again then you're gonna have to wait forty-five minutes 'til the next screening," the kid told him.

"No, thanks. I've seen enough," Steve said, gruffly. He snapped the compass closed and pocketed it.

The kid tipped his head sideways, looking at him. "Have I seen you 'round before?"

"I don't think so," Steve replied, nudging his baseball cap a little further down his forehead. He stood to leave. "Thanks."

Steve walked through the rest of the exhibit without taking anything in. He knew this shouldn't have affected him as strongly as it did. In all honesty, the likelihood of him waking up seventy years after he'd 'died' and expecting Peggy to still be alive was absurd, but it was the senselessness of her death, the brutality of it, that kept him awake at night.

Steve found himself out on the National Mall. It was still crowded but less oppressive than the enclosed exhibition had been. Away from the carefully constructed atmosphere of the museum, he discovered that he could breathe easier and think clearer.

He needed answers and he needed them now. And, most importantly, he thought he knew where he could find them.

I always listen to (mostly) instrumental music when writing as I find the mood and emotions of the music influence my writing greatly. So, for the first time, I am going to be giving recommendations to pieces of music that you may wish to listen to during certain sections of chapters. I have no idea if it'll work but here we go:

Format: From 'quote from story' (paragraph number) to 'quote from story' (paragraph number)/end of the song/end of the chapter: name of song, artist and album

From 'A symbol to the nation.' (P1) to 'He ducked into a small room' (mid-P4): The Smithsonian by Henry Jackman from Captain America: The Winter Soldier OST.

From 'The Scientific Strategic Reserve continued…' (P29) to the end of the song: 'Cold' by Jorge Mendez from Fragments: vol. III