The sun was shining through the window when Peggy woke up from her sleep. She slowly opened her eyes as she adjusted to the bright light. Nearly immediately, her senses were assaulted by a sharp pain radiating from her temples. Buzzing filled her ears as she lowered her head to the floor. Her right arm felt numb, mostly because she slept on it for the rest of the night. Peggy took a few deep breaths before opening her eyes again, gazing downwards towards her legs. There, she saw Steve. He was still asleep, his head buried in her chest, his arms looped around her waist. His hair was ruffled, standing up in all directions. She watched him for a while, feeling his chest rise and fall as he breathed in and out. Suddenly, she felt him wriggle a bit, as she heard an unintelligible noise, coming from his direction.
"Steve?" she asked, her voice weak and raspy. She coughed a few times, trying to overcome the dryness of her throat. After the coughing fit subsided, she looked down and saw Steve raise his head. His gaze was unfocused and his expression was pained.
"G'morning, Peggy." he croaked out, barely above a whisper. He sighed as he rolled onto his back, pulling himself out of her embrace.
"How do you feel?" she asked, wincing at the pulsing pain that seemed to crush her head.
"Terrible." he responded, lifting himself up to a sitting position. "Do we have water? My throat..."
"Yes, I'll bring it to you, I need it myself, to be honest." she responded, pushing herself up. She stood still for a second to get her bearings, before marching off into the kitchen. She returned soon, with two mugs in her hands and a first aid kit under her armpit. She placed the mugs on the table and took out the aspirin tablets from the kit. They gulped them down quickly, finally relieving some of the dryness in their throats. Both Steve and Peggy sat at the table silently for a few moments, looking right into each others' eyes. Then, Steve lowered his head, looking at the table.
"What is it?" Peggy asked, one part curious, one part concerned.
"It's about last night." he replied, still not looking at her.
She raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?" she prodded again, her voice quivering slightly.
"You said that you love me." he spoke again, his tone defeated. "Did you..." he paused to breathe in "...mean it?"
Peggy's mouth fell open as she felt her heart ache.
"Steve, what on earth are you talking about?" she asked, dumbfounded.
"When you drink, you sometimes say things you didn't really mean to say." Steve continued, still looking dejected and weak. "I just want to know if you only said it because..." he paused again "...you pity me." his voice broke at the end.
Peggy stood up with enough force to tip the chair over. She took a few long steps before she reached Steve. She grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and crashed him against her lips. The kiss was rough, bruising, with a force behind it, as Peggy swallowed his yelp of surprise. She broke just after that, still holding him at arms length.
"I may or may not sometimes do some things I later wish I didn't do when I'm drunk." she said, her voice stern "But when it comes down to things like these, I don't fool around, Steve."
She paused for a while, focusing on him. His expression was a mix of shock, fear and disbelief. She then continued, softening her tone.
"If you think I said what I said because I feel pity, you're wrong. I think you are a good and strong man, down there." she said, pointing her finger at his heart. "And I do love you, Steve, I love you for who you are, and I wouldn't have you any other way. Just know that."
Steve relaxed against her, breathing out.
"I'm sorry." he said, as a single tear traveled down his cheek. "I'm so sorry, Peggy." he repeated, before she pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.
"Don't be, darling." she whispered, running a hand through his hair. "I understand. Too many people think low of you. But I'm not them. I'll always be there for you."
He didn't respond at first, content to just stay where he was, between her strong arms, anchoring him. After a while, he raised his head, looking her right in the eyes.
"I just thought." he said, his voice thick with emotion. "After all this, I should take you dancing."
Peggy chuckled.
"Oh, of course." she said, her tone cheerful. "But I thought you can't dance."
"We can practice. Or have the band play something slow." he responded, his mood changing into a more upbeat one.
"That's a good thought." she said, before pecking him lightly on his lips.
That's when she head someone clapping in the background. Both of them turned their heads to see Howard, with a wide grin plastered on his face.
"Told you, Steve." he said, still grinning. "See?"
"Yeah, I do." he responded. "Now..."
"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." he answered, miming the action of zipping his lips shut. "But still, Stevie, you owe me one."
Peggy shot Steve a piercing gaze, raising her eyebrow.
"Um..." he began, before composing himself. "I made a deal with him. If he was right about us he would..." he stammered "..be the best man."
Peggy groaned loudly, rolling her eyes.
"If you seriously think I would allow that, you must be out of your mind." Peggy said, her tone annoyed.
"OK, no best man then." Howard replied, raising his hand in a gesture of mock surrender. "But how about the godfath..."
"HOWARD!" both of them yelled out simultaneously.
"Fine, fine. Jesus, you people are not fun at all." he grumbled as he left the kitchen.
When he was out, Peggy looked back at Steve.
"Seriously?" she asked.
"Yeah." he answered. "But if it wasn't for him..."
"I suppose you do have a point." she said, before leaning in to kiss him again.
Western Germany, September 1944
Peggy took another whiff from her cigarette as she buried herself deep into her thoughts.
The outcome of the offensive back in July stunned even her, a seasoned veteran. The Germans scurried away from France at a lightning pace, retreating to the east faster than the Allies could catch up. Right now, she was actually on German soil, while merely a month ago she was still around Paris, rounding up the marauders left behind by the escaping Wehrmacht and the SS. The spirit of optimism was high, as many predicted the war would end by Christmas. She was a bit more careful in her assessments – she knew far too well what underestimating the enemy usually meant. Somehow, her thoughts drifted back to Steve. After their first proper kiss, they knew they would have to keep their relationship a secret. This meant their feelings had to be manifested with discretion – through chaste kisses when nobody looked and mutual gazes, filled with love and affection. It hadn't progressed much beyond that, but neither of them was complaining – they reasoned they would have time for it after the war.
She snapped out of it quick. Right now was not the time to dwell on what will happen. They still had an enemy to fight, a war to win. She peeked out of the tank, scanning the camp they were stationed at right now. It wasn't much – a few tents and some barbed wire to designate the perimeter – but it was better than nothing. Suddenly, Peggy thought she saw Steve run out of a tent back towards the fuel depot. After a while, she exited the tank and moved towards there. As she got closer, she heard a loud sob coming from between the barrels of gasoline.
Oh no. she thought as she raced towards the source of the sound. When she found it, she could feel her heart break.
It really was Steve. He was sitting on the ground, his legs brought up to his chest and his head hunched down, his forehead propped on the forearms. His shoulders shook as he sobbed loudly. Peggy crouched down and pulled him into a tight embrace, letting him bury his head in her shoulder. As he kept sobbing, she looked around and found a folded piece of paper laying on the ground. She reached out and picked it up, unfolding it to read it.
What she read chilled her down to the bone. She knew that type too well – a proper typewriter, with a signature of General Marshall down at the lower right corner. Addressed to Steve, informing him of the death of James Barnes near Eindhoven, merely a week ago. She grasped the paper in her hand , tightening her embrace around Steve. Soon, he stopped sobbing and looked up, his eyes red and cheeks wet from tears. She wiped the tear tracks with her thumbs.
"Steve, I'm so sorry." she said, her tone filled with emotion. "Truly."
He sniffled.
"Bucky meant a lot to me, you know." he said, his tone fluctuating. "We were inseparable. He was always there for me. And now..." he stopped, fighting back tears.
Peggy hugged him again. She stayed silent – she knew what it was like to lose someone close. She decided that showing him he had someone next to him in the time of need would speak far more volumes than words. After a while, she broke the hug to plant a kiss to his lips.
"Can you tell me about him?" she asked, her tone sincere.
"What exactly?" Steve asked, still shaken.
"Anything you want." she answered, before motioning him to sit down. She plopped down next to him, pulling him into an embrace. For the next few minutes, she let Steve talk, as he recounted the stories of his childhood and early adulthood with Bucky. Peggy rested her head on his shoulder as she listened in, captivated by the images Steve was painting for her. After a while, he stopped talking, content to sit in silence with Peggy next to him.
"Thank you." he said, calmer now. "For being here. Next to me."
"You don't have to." she responded. "I can bet you would have done the same to me were we to switch places."
"Yes." he replied, before planting a kiss on her cheek and squeezing her hand. "I'd do that."
She smiled.
Belgium, January 1945
For the first time since long ago, Peggy felt scared.
She chastised herself for not being careful enough. Had she spotted that damn gun a second earlier, she probably might have done something about it. Right now, however, was not the best time to ponder on what-would-have-beens.
The tank was stationary at the middle of the road. It's engine was burning, hit by a shell. Fortunately, they all managed to evacuate quickly, and were now in a ditch by the side of the road, sheltered from enemy fire. Miraculously, no-one was even scratched. However, their situation was far from safe. Over the distant gunfire of a fortified machine gun, she heard loud voices of the Germans, pressing on towards them. They were outnumbered and their best medium of survival was now useless. Peggy clutched her Thompson tighter, when suddenly she saw Steve spring out from the ditch, running towards the tank.
"Steve, get back here!" she shouted. He kept running, ignoring her words. "Steve!"
"I'll cover you all! Run!" he shouted back as he climbed the tank and grasped the M2 machine gun. Soon, he was firing it, sending long bursts into the attacking infantry.
Peggy didn't even think twice. She ran out into the open and was soon next to the machine, firing her weapon at the Germans as well. The rest was there too, supporting her and Steve.
"Run, all of you!" he said as he reloaded. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm not leaving here without you, Steve!" Peggy answered, her tone desperate as she fired another burst, feeling slightly satisfied when it connected with the intended target.
"I'll join you, just go!" he shouted back, firing again.
"No!" she shouted back, turning her head to face him.
Suddenly, she cried out as she felt a sharp pain coming from her shoulder. She fell to the ground, screaming from pain that blinded her.
"Shit, Peggy!" she heard Dugan, his voice muffled. He grabbed her by the collar of the jacked and dragged her for a moment. She then heard Steve again.
"Take her and go, I'll join you, just do it!"
She wanted to scream. She wanted to plead with him to come with them, to run too. But she couldn't, as she felt an unknown force tighten her throat. She felt tears running down her cheeks and the warmth of blood seeping out of the wounds as she gritted her teeth. Then she felt someone hoist her up over a shoulder as she heard a muffled explosion. She fought to stay conscious, drifting between sleep and staying awake. It was a battle she was losing, and soon felt her will to keep her eyes open go away. Before she closed them, there was only one thing on her mind.
Steve.