Stony One Shots

Hold My Hand In The Cemetery And You'll Be Safe

Summary :-: Every day, after work Steve goes to the graveyard to visit Peggy, his dear dear friend who passed away a few years back. Every day he goes he sees the same guy there, looking out at a grave, a rose in his hand. But this time something I'd different

Warnings :-: Gang fights, homophobic langue and major characters death

Word Count :-: 1720

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It was cold this afternoon, but it was deep into October now, so Steve wasn't surprised as he pulled his scarf around his neck a little tighter so the bitter wind would stop snapping and biting the back of his neck. He picked up his walking speed a little and in no time at all he was at the large iron gates of the cemetery, the paint chipping off the iron, but no one bother to pain it again. Steve wasn't sure why, in the two years since he had first come here it had always looked the same.

As he pushed them open, as usual they squeaked and then once he took his hand off one half of the gate, it closed by its self. It was always the same no matter what the weather - not that would really make a difference unless it was some extremely strong wind.

Steve continued to walk until he was in front of a black grave with gold writing over it. He placed the few flowers he had in his hand over the top of the ground and kissed the tips of his fingers before placing it over the name on the grave.

Margaret Elizabeth "Peggy" Carter

She had been gone for almost two years now, and Steve still missed his dear friend day in and day out, but he still went about his life how he did because she wouldn't have wanted him to pity her, don't pity the dead, pity the living and all of the above he remember her saying when she was taking her last few breaths at the hospital, and since than that quote had been itched into Steve's mind and he did. He did his very best to stay strong for her because she would have expected nothing less from her little solider boy.

As Steve spoke about his day in his head to her he bid her farewell and as he went to leave he saw the same guy who was there all the time. He didn't look as good as he had before. He looked a lot worse than yesterday. Hell, Steve wasn't sure if he had even left here last night.

He had deep bags under his eyes, and what looked to be the trace of a black eye, messy and unwashed looking hair, brown stuffs sticking up everywhere. He had an empty whisky bottle to his left and his other arms in a cast, his legs crossed as he sat on them and he was looking at one grave and nothing else. Just one grave in his vision and Steve's heart sank for him because he remembers being just like that. When Peggy's grave was freshly dug, he would sit and stare at it for hours just wishing it was some awful dream he would wake up from and have his best friend back.

Steve took a sat next to him and tried to think of something to say that wasn't patronising or 'are you okay?' because that wouldn't be the best think to ask. He remember when people would ask him that stuff and he wanted to punch them. He didn't want their sympathy, he wanted his best friend back, not pity, so he tried his very best to think of something that wouldn't be any of those things, but as he opened his mouth to speak he felt an arm wrap around his neck, the other arm that was in the cast just resting on his shoulder, the contact making him jump but then he saw the guy hugging him, Steve instantly wrapped his arms back around him and began to play with his hair - just a habit he picked up on doing when his friend Bucky would get sad, he liked people playing with his hair, he said it was calming so Steve just continued doing it with everyone upset he hugged.