I Will Wait For You [ stucky ]

four

1953 words ✓

xxx

bucky

xxx

There are too many people in this world. If I had my way, I would kill off half of them.

Okay, well, probably not.

But if I had the power, I'd just make the world a bit bigger. More space, more resources for people to spread out and live in different places. Then everyone wouldn't be so squished together.

I'll admit, it's good to be able to hide within the crowded streets of New York, but sometimes a little overbearing. I've been to the Smithsonian a few more times this week, and it's like every time I go out, there are more and more people.

This particular day, I'm out on the street, sipping on my caramel frappe. I left the museum a little over an hour ago, and now I'm on my way to Central Park.

Today I watched an interview that was filmed some time during the fifties. There was a woman, a brunette who looked familiar. I'm not sure why or how, but she does.

When I finally reach the park, I look around. It's a little late in the day for Steve or Sam to be out jogging, but it doesn't hurt to be careful. I plop down on a somewhat secluded bench and pull out my phone, opening the little Google app.

My search history is bizarre.

what is a pumpkin spice

free shavacadoo

is captain america dead

samuel wilson

is polio still a thing

james buchanan barnes

red room

I didn't find anything for the last one except literal red rooms.

Tapping on the search bar, I add a new entry to my history.

Margaret Carter.

The Images tab shows hundreds of pictures of the pretty brunette woman; most of them seem to have been taken several years ago. I tap on one of the first links that appear and I'm redirected to some sort of research website. I read a little about Margaret, or Peggy, as some people call her, and find myself frowning.

Again, she seems so familiar to me. She worked for the Strategic Scientific Reserve, and was sent to help out the soldiers of the 107th, the same regiment I was a part of so many years ago. We could have met then, but I doubt I'd have any time to acquaint myself with a dame in the middle of a war.

Unless she was a one-night sort of acquaintance.

I quickly shove the thought aside and shake my head, forcing myself not to think too much about it. Memories of being with a woman who's now ninety-something isn't really what I want on my conscience.

There isn't much on her family history, but then, a blonde catches my eye. Or rather, two blondes catch my eye. The first is a woman, specifically a woman who Steve has gone out with approximately twice since the Potomac incident; according to the article, she's Peggy Carter's niece.

The second blonde is much more important. It's Steve.

I quickly read his relationship to her and frown in confusion at the words "Former Lover."