(A/N: That's the end of the song.)

Lennie hated the color black. It was bleak, depressing and sad. She hated it. She hated her black shoes and her black dress and her black veil. She hated the flag she was being forced to carry into the church, she hated this stupid ceremony and she hated Peggy Carter for holding her hand.

She hated everything.

It was like a form of torture. Going to the military cemetary to put an empty coffin in the ground. The preacher was saying all these things but he didn't know Steve. None of these people did. They knew Captain America the champion, the hero. They didn't know her boy. Her sickly skinny white boy.

Lennie clenched her teeth and patted Susie on the back. The poor girl was asleep, thank God, as she wouldn't have to witness the bitter agony her mother was in. The child hadn't slept in days, she refused to eat and Lennie found herself doing the same. It was a cruel trick God had played on her, giving her a love so pure then yanking it away. It was disgusting. Maybe there wasn't one. She snatched her hand away from Peggy's and rocked her daughter back and forth, closing her eyes.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this but…"

It took all of her will not to kill herself when Peggy told her what Steve had done. What selfish choice he had made leaving her all alone with their baby. She wept until she couldn't breathe, until every inch of her body felt like it was on fire.

"His last seconds were spent saving the world."

Such a little consolation, she had thought at the time. He was saving the world but leaving her all alone.

"He wanted me to tell you that he loved you."

He couldn't have possibly.

She remembered screaming to no one about how she warned him not to join. She begged him to stay with her. He was too good. She had almost torn her hair out.

"Lord please lift up Captain Rogers' soul and welcome him into heaven with you. Please heal the wounds he has left behind. Misses Rogers and his daughter, Susan." The preacher's voice brought her out of her stupor and the choir stood to sing a hymn.

It was the saddest thing she had ever heard in her life.

"Miss Rogers," The colonel called for her at the podium. She got up and handed Susie off to Giselle. She lifted her chin and walked up there, paying no mind to the cameras snapping. As a folded up flag was handed to her, guns went off to pay respect to the fallen soldier.

Lennie held the flag close to her belly, her eyes finally beginning to water for the first time that day. Right on that podium, in front of everyone as the gunshots rang, she pulled her veil over her face to hide her tears.

After the service, the military hosted a reception. Lennie had handed off Susie to Mary and was sitting all by herself.

In a situation like this, she thought that she would have Bucky to comfort her, to hold her hand and tell her that everything was alright. But she was there alone. Bucky nor Steve by her side.

"Ma'am," A gruff voice knocked her out of her head and she looks up to see a ginger-haired man in front of her. He was dressed in a black suit and held his hat to his chest, his head was bowed in respect. "My name is Timothy Dungan, I'm, I was in the Howling Commandos with yer husband."

Lennie nodded, vacantly recalling, "I baked ya a pie once."

"That ye did." Timothy managed a smile, "I just wanted to personally give my condolences. He saved my life. He was a good man. Wouldn't stop talkin' about yah! There was this one time-!"

"I'm sorry." Lennie choked out as she stood abruptly, covering her mouth as she left the banquet hall. She ran to the bathroom and pressed her back against the wall, slowly falling to the ground as newfound tears streamed down her cheeks. A sob wracked through her and she buried her face in her hands.

The sound of the door opening startled Lennie and she hurriedly wiped her cheeks. She looked up to see Peggy Carter holding her hand out to help her up. Lennie, always being the proud one, didn't take it; she instead lifted herself up, brushing her hands down her dress. She walked to the sink and grabbed a paper towel, cleaning herself up while Peggy watched her in the mirror.

"Can I help you with something, Miss Carter?"

"No, er," Peggy shook her head, "I was trying to see if you were alright."

"My husband's dead." Lennie bluntly stated, relining her lips in red, "My daughter is goin' ta' grow up without a father just like me. I'm a widow in my twenties and I'll never love again. So all and all; I'm just great, thanks."

"I'm just trying to help."

Lennie recapped her lipstick and turned around walking up to Peggy and looking her in the eye. "Unless you want to dive into the Atlantic and get me my husband back, there isn't a goddamn thing you can do for me." The dancer watched the English woman frown and she continued, turning away from her once more. "I respect you Miss Carter, I really do. Being a woman in the war and all, but we weren't ever friends. Not before… and we won't be after. Ya got a whole country to go back home to but I just have an empty shell of an apartment."

"I…" The woman started, choking on her tears, "I loved him too."

Lennie raised her eyebrows and laughed dryly as she powdered her nose. "Well I got good news for ya, honey. Ya still got time to find somebody else."

Peggy sobbed, covering her mouth and shaking her head. "You're terrible."

"Just bitter." The dancer supplied, sniffing, "Now get yourself together."

With that, Lennie just left Peggy in the bathroom, strutting out. As she entered the banquet hall, the guest had started to speak at the podium of the good times they shared with Steve. She took her spot at the center of the table again and nodded to Mary and Giselle at her side.

Person after person went up with kind words and funny tales. Lennie even found herself smiling at some of the stories, but one thing was the same in all of them; they took place after Steve had taken the serum.

Without thinking, she found herself standing up and walking toward the podium. Her mind was blank as she stepped up and looked over the grieving faces beaming with nostalgia. She cleared her throat.

"Um," Lennie started, licking her lips, "When I met Steve Rogers, he was gettin' beat up in an alley." She lightly chuckled at the thought, "I looked down in the trash and saw this tiny thing with the bluest eyes I had ever seen. In the light of the street, honest to God, he looked like an angel. He had this thing about him where he couldn't look me in the eye at first. He cheeks would turn pink and he would start to stutter and I just thought 'Wow. This guy's different.'. He never talked down to me, he never raised a hand at me, he never even raised his voice. He was scrawny and sickly and pale but goddamn if he didn't protect me. He was the kinda guy that would take the shirt of his back, matter-fact he did one time. All of ya, with no fault of ya own, remember him as Captain America. Big and burly, America's hero. But he was Stevie ta' me. A skinny white boy from Brooklyn who I had to walk home. The father of my child. The only love I will ever have known in my life. And that's okay, because goddamn if he wasn't a good one." She smiled brightly, laughing with tears in her eyes. "And I just wanna say, Steve if you can hear me, thank ya for the best years of my life and the years to come."

"And I just wanna say, Steve if you can hear me, thank you for the best years of my life and the years to come."

The blurry black and white film flickered then froze all together as the watcher paused it. Blue eyes watched with sadness as a forgotten woman from long ago mourned the death of her husband. The National Archives' film had been converted to digital and as it replayed on the tablet the viewer saw the title flicker across the screen once again.

"THE DEATH OF CAPTAIN AMERICA."

The title card was followed by a smaller one, "Lenore B. Rogers, Captain America's Wife."

'Captain America's Wife'. His frown deepened. She wasn't the Captain's wife, she was his wife. Steve Roger's.

"When I met Steve Rogers, he was gettin' beat up in an alley."

"We're here, Captain." The driver informed him and he nodded, tipping the taxi driver. He got out of the car looked up at the old brownstone, his heart beating fast. As the taxi pulled away from the curb, he raised his fist to knock on the door but paused.

Was he ready? Did he really want to do this?

Barreling through his fear as he always did, he knocked. Three straight to the point sounds against the wood. He stepped back and put his tablet in his satchel, placing his shaking hands in his pockets.

"I got it, Mom!" A woman's voice sounded and moments later the door swung open. Immediately, the woman's brown eyes widened and he couldn't help but think how much she looked like Lennie. Before he could introduce himself, she blurted out an incredulous, "Granddad?"

Warmth instantly spread through Steve and he smiled, replying, "I think so."

"Oh my…" The unnamed woman breathed before throwing her arms around him, "Oh my God! Hi!" Steve chuckled and hugged her with just as much love, rubbing her back soothingly. "Come in, please! Oh my God." The man stepped in the foyer of the home and was instantly taken back to the first moment he met Lennie. The home smelt of roses.

"Let me, I, do you want some water?" The woman blurted, still in shock.

"No thank you." Steve politely declined, before questioning, "What's your name?"

"Oh!" The woman breathed with a laugh, "I'm sorry, I'm Sarah."

"Sarah…" Steve repeated lowly, "That was my mother's name."

"I know." Sarah smiled brightly, before turning around and calling up the steps. "Mom! Mom, there's someone here to see you."

"Stop all that yelling, girl." A more mature voice chastised as a woman with long silver hair began to descend down the stairs. "Forty years old and steal carryin' on like a teenager." Faded blue eyes met his and they widened at the sight of him.

The old woman covered her mouth with her hands and sat in quiet shock. Slowly, with all the carefulness in the world, she reached up and cupped his face in her weathered hands, a tearful smile spreading over her face.

"Daddy?" She questioned, her voice seeming to go back in time.

Steve teared up at the sound. "Hi Susie." He greeted, just as he used to when he returned from missions.

"Oh thank God!" The woman croaked out as she embraced her father for the first time in seventy years.

"You're so beautiful." Steve said squeezing his daughter tighter, "You got so big."

"Well I hope so," Susan laughed, "I'm 73, Dad!"

"You don't look a day over fifty." The man complimented his daughter as they pulled away from their hug.

Susan laughed again and reached for Sarah, "Doesn't she look just like Mom? God, you should see my granddaughter! Looks like Lennie popped her out herself! And did you know my Sarah here was the first negro Rockette? With her as her mother they had to let Baby Lennie in!"

"Mom," Sarah interjected, looking back at Steve with a smile, "I'm sure he's here to see Nana."

Steve's heart stopped for a moment and his gaze went to the top of the stairs. "Is she…?" He paused and looked to his descendants for an answer.

Susan opened her mouth to answer his question but was interrupted by a voice from an unseen woman.

"Sarah Tracy," A deep voice dripping with sweet honey called, "I know ya don't got company in my house without introducing him ta' me." Like a cool breeze, an older woman floated to the steps and made her way down.

It was like the first time he had seen her in that alley. She looked like an angel. Her long silver hair was pulled up into a bun and she was dressed in a white tunic. Her face had only begun to show the signs of aging, only by her mouth and eyes, signalling that she had smiled a lot in her lifetime. Her pretty almond brown eyes were just as bright as he remembered them and she slowed to a stop in front of him, it took everything not to sweep her up in his arms like he used to.

"Well, well, well." Lenore Dolores chimed like a bird, her lips quirking in a smile. "Aren't you handsome, sugar. Ya remind me of this guy I used ta' know in Brooklyn. That was when Brooklyn was a little more colored." She left out a light laugh, "Sarah, honey, introduce me to ya friend before I say anything crazy."

Steve was too shocked to even speak.

"Nana," Sarah smiled gently, "This is Steve Rogers."

Lennie's head whipped to her granddaughter and she furrowed her brows before looking up at Steve once more. "St…" She started but could not bring herself to finish. "That's…" She tried again but the words caught her throat. "No." She shook her head, turning away from the man. "That's impossible, he couldn't possibly be-! Look I don't know who you are but you need to get out of my house. Now! I'm not entertaining this nonsense, not after all the years of suffering I had to go through-!"

"Ma-!"

"Shut your mouth, Susan Lee. Don't you know your own father?" She accused with a hiss, "Bringing strangers into my home with wild theories and accusations. Lying to-!"

"I'm not lying, Len." Steve finally found his voice, effectively silencing her. "It's really me."

Lennie sucked her teeth and put her hands on her hips, "Have you no shame?" She snapped with disgust before turning her back again. "Get out before I call the cops."

"Ya didn't walk until you were three." Steve blurted desperately, making Lennie pause on the steps. "On the night we met ya saved me from Frankie Johnson muggin' me. Ya left ya stockings and hat at my apartment. Ya cooked me stew with extra carrots even though ya hate them, because I like them." He walked to the stairs and searched her eyes with a sad sigh, "Ya taught me ta' dance, Len."

Lennie let out a tired breath and sized the man up once more, pursing her lips. She looked down at his feet and shook her head. "And ya still flat footed."

Steve's head shot up and he ran up the stairs to her, wrapping his arms around his wife. Lennie laughed heartily and hugged him with all of the pain she felt for the last couple decades. "God, I'm so old, Stevie."

"Just as pretty." Steve murmured into her hair, holding her tight. "Like an angel."