Author's Note: Thanks so much to everyone who has read and commented on my story. I hope you're still enjoying this beast that seems like it will be going on forever.
There was snow gently falling on the city, but it wasn't cold enough to stick. Steve was bundled up in his usual uniform of many layers, with disposable hand warmers shoved in every pocket Tony could find. He'd just finished his most recent session with Dr. Charles, but this one wasn't as emotional. They mostly went over his childhood and all of the stuff he experienced before the serum. Even with the constant illnesses, crippling poverty, and loss of his mother, it wasn't as traumatic as what came after. That was so long ago, even for him, that the hurt wasn't as sharp. It was the unnaturalness of his other losses and experiences that would be harder to get through.
He hadn't found the right hobby for himself yet, but he'd tried a few things. Origami was too confusing and he wasn't sure what to do with all the tiny pieces of paper he ended up with. The ship in a bottle kit Bruce had let him have was too frustrating to finish. And the random jigsaw puzzle Tony conjured up from somewhere was pretty dull. It did inspire Tony to declare that the next weekend would be a Saw movie marathon, but Steve wasn't sure a movie about puzzles and power tools sounded very interesting. But at least all the failed attempts had accomplished the goal of distracting him from worrying about being alone on his floor. Steve realized that knowing everyone was a word to Jarvis away was comforting enough to not get caught up in the idea of being isolated. But now that that issue was coming along well, he really wanted to find a real hobby that he liked.
There was always drawing, his first love, but that reminded him too much of the past. He didn't want to risk backsliding by going into something that could be so triggering. But finding a new thing to bring him joy would help him find his way back to that. Steve was walking to a bookstore he'd passed the day before while walking home, hoping to find inspiration. Maybe reading could be his new hobby, even though he'd given up on it all those months ago. Instead of reading to catch up on things he'd missed, he could try to do it for pleasure.
Steve wandered around the shop, looking for anything that caught his eye. Romance novels felt too weird and the young adult section felt too juvenile. There was a big section of biographies, but he didn't really feel like reading the life story of people he'd never heard of. Maybe he could think of writing his own story one day, but that wouldn't be anytime soon.
He eventually found where they kept their hobby and self help books, avoiding the latter. The book of over 100 popular hobbies looked promising, so he took it over to the attached cafe and ordered himself a hot chocolate and sat down to flip through it. There were so many things he hadn't even considered, like candle making and taxidermy. Candle making sounded kind of interesting, but the taxidermy would be a hard pass. Touching dead things didn't sound relaxing.
"Find anything interesting?" a man's voice said from in front of Steve. He looked up to see an older man nursing a cup of coffee and reading a newspaper.
"Pardon?" Steve asked, wanting to make sure the man was actually talking to him and that he hadn't missed anything important.
"You looked pretty focused on that book. Even let your drink get cold. Just wondering if there was something good that I should check out as well," the man said, tilting his head at the no longer steaming mug sitting on the little table.
"Oh," Steve replied, tapping his finger on the lip of the cup. "Just searching for a little inspiration, I guess. Something to help pass the time."
"Young man like you, in the prime of your life, you should be out chasing skirts," the man chuckled.
"Uh-"
"Or trousers. I don't judge, it's just a saying," the man said with a grin, setting down his paper. "Don't really see people your age sitting in a bookstore coffee shop this time of day is all."
"Well, I've kind of taken a leave of absence from work, so I'm trying to find something fulfilling," Steve explained, although he was a bit confused why he was opening up to this stranger. He must have a little leftover talking in him from his therapy session.
"That I can understand. After I retired, I didn't know what to do. Golfing and crossword puzzles didn't have the same appeal when they became so readily available. It was easy to get bored, especially when I lost my Claire after 42 years," the man said wistfully, staring off into the distance for a moment.
"I'm so sorry," Steve said sincerely, his mind immediately going to Peggy. It seemed offensive to compare his loss to this man's since they hadn't even been a couple. Steve couldn't imagine spending your whole life with someone and then them just not being there one day.
"What was their name?"
"What?" Steve whispered, biting the inside of his cheek.
"The person you were just thinking about," the man replied somberly, giving him a look full of understanding.
"Peggy," Steve murmured, looking down at his hands. "Her name was Peggy." Steve hadn't even talked to Dr. Charles about her yet, trying to avoid that pain for as long as possible. Thinking of Bucky would always bring up overwhelming feelings of guilt, but Peggy was cloaked in regret. Regret from all those missed opportunities and the time wasted. It was a war he fought in his mind every time thoughts of her popped up in his brain. The truth of knowing he couldn't go back and change things was staggering.
"How did you lose her?"
"I didn't, not really. I never got the chance to lose her because she was never mine," Steve whispered, closing his eyes to try to keep his emotions in check. This was not the place to break down.
"Sometimes knowing you missed out on something is worse than losing it."
"But that pales in comparison to what you must be going through. After all that time, I can't imagine."
"As much as it hurts to live the rest of my days without her, I wouldn't trade any of it away. She gave me my kids and my grandkids, but more importantly than that, she gave me those lazy Sunday mornings and running errands after work. Overcooked roasts and cleaning out the attic. She gave me a life worth living and memories I'll carry with me until I see her again," he said with a fond smile. "You find a way to keep going, no matter how hard it is, because that's just what you do. Would your gal want you to lose your way on account of her?"
"No sir. She'd have my head if she could see me now," Steve admitted with a small smile.
"Ah, a feisty one like my Claire. When it was almost her time, she made me promise to move on. Said I could be sad for a little bit, but not to waste the last few good miles I had left," the man laughed, shaking his head at the memory. "She was a cheeky one, no doubt about it. But I make sure to keep my promise. I get out of the house every day, I try new things. I still let myself feel it every once in a while, but I don't let it crush me. There is a place for pain in this world and a place for joy. Sometimes you have to work at it so joy wins out, but it's damn sure worth it."
Steve was kind of taken aback and he didn't know what to say. This man, who no one would blame for being depressed and bitter, was making a case for moving on. Not forgetting, but accepting. Maybe it was just a wisdom that came with age, but it was inspiring nonetheless.
"Thank you," Steve said genuinely, reaching a hand forward to shake the other man's hand in respect. "I appreciate you talking to me about something so difficult. I've really been struggling recently, but your words mean a lot. They've given me something to think about."
"Everyone can use a helping hand sometimes," the man brushed off, going back to his paper. "Let me know if you find yourself something good to pass the time. I'm here most days."
"I will, Mister…?"
"Call me Frank," the man said, tipping his head politely.
"Nice to meet you Frank, I'm Steve," he said, realizing that was the first time he'd introduced himself to someone beside Dr. Charles in a long time. It felt nice. Steve chugged the rest of his forgotten drink and cleaned up his table before heading to the checkstand to buy his hobby book. He grabbed a cookie cookbook he saw earlier for Clint too, looking forward to trying out some of the recipes later. He'd gone into the bookshop looking for one thing, but he might've found something much more meaningful.