Humans have always been storytellers. From the day they were able to write, humans have recoded stories and shared grand tales of creatures larger than life. Myths and legends explaining how the world was created, how humans came into existence or w...
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As Peggy trudged through the rubble of London, she could barely recognize anything or even where she was.
Buildings Peggy had grown up with had been bombed into nothing but ash, collapsed into piles of stone and charred wood. They had been reduced from the constant onslaught of bombed dropped throughout the night. She felt them in the S.S.R base even with how far below ground it was built, explosions large enough to rock the ceiling lights and shake loose a layer of dust from the ceiling.
As she stepped off the street and into the half-destroyed remains of a familiar building, Peggy braced herself against a leaning wooden beam
She had a hunch she would find Steve there. The bar, while it was still intact, was one of the few places in the unfamiliar city that Steve had found refuge in, often in the company of her fellow soldiers and Commandos. The few memories of the nights spent singing and drinking remained pleasant amidst those filled with fighting & bloodshed from recent years.
As she rounded the decayed bar, Peggy proved her conclusion correct. Just as she expected, Steve sat silently at a charred table, a half-empty bottle of scotch sat on the table in front of him along with a glass he toyed with gently.
His shoulders hung low, head downturned as he noticed Peggy's approach. He barely cast her a glance over his shoulder before turning his gaze back to the cup, spinning it lazily.
He looked emotionally broken.
Steve decided to speak first, Peggy halting in her movements and folding her hands in front of her sadly.
"Doctor Erskine said that the serum wouldn't just affect my muscles. It would affect my cells. create a protective system of regeneration and healing, which means I can't get drunk. Did you know that?" His voice wavered, the end of his sentence betraying his inner turmoil clear as day. He reached forward, grabbing the bottle and emptying the last bit of amber liquid into his glass.
Peggy paid attention to how he only stared longingly at the alcohol in his hand, declining to drink it. There was no point, it wouldn't work to numb the pain he was feeling. He placed the glass back down on the table a tad too hard, pushing it away with a deep sigh.
Seeing he needed comfort, Peggy moved from her spot without a word. she grabbed a fallen chair, turning it upright and taking a seat across the table from Steve. As she rounded to see his full face, she could see just the extent of Steve's pain.
