La Petite Fleur

Oublié

"Come in," ordered a man's voice from inside.

Steve hesitantly opened the door and stepped onto the patterned tile floor. A man was bent over a nightstand, exchanging a pot of dead flowers for a new bouquet. Upon seeing him come in, the man nodded and left. Now, Steve was left to look around the room. It was large enough to allow helpers and occupants to move around, but excess space was lacking. A bed took up most of the space in the center and a nightstand stood to either side. The stand closest to where he was held the cheery yellow lilies, and the other showed various medications and a styrofoam cup of water. The walls were a warm shade of beige and offset the stark white of the sheets and pillows.

With sheets covering her nightgown to the waist and her hair spilling onto the pillow, Steve thought he had the wrong room. Until she saw him and a smile spread across her aged face. He could never forget her smile, or the way her eyes squinched at the corners. "Peggy?" he said, unsure of himself.

"I thought I told you not to be late," she replied.

Steve stood, stunned. At first, he wasn't sure she was thinking properly until her voice returned to him from so so many years ago. 'Stork Club...and don't you dare be late.' The sound and the memory and all the emotions that had gone with those words came rushing back to smack him in the face. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from losing the last shreds of sanity.

"I still don't know how to dance." He'd said the first thing that came to mind, and was glad he had. Peggy's smile doubled and she laughed a little.

"I'm not quite sure I can still teach you." Her accent was just the same as he remembered it, and he could detect that wit and charm that still managed to demand his respect. After a long silence, she spoke again. "They'd told me you were alive. Director Fury came to me, and he said they'd found you frozen in a block of ice. At first I didn't believe him, but his doctor friend- oh, what's his name?- he explained what had happened and said you had been perfectly preserved in a comatose state. And I still didn't believe him. I'd given up hope, and now, here you are."

Those few words ripped out Steve's heart, tore it to bits, burned what was left, and stuffed it back in his chest. He didn't know what to say. "I'm so sorry-"

"No," she cut him off firmly. "You did what you had to do to save a country. You made the right choice." Peggy sat forward and began to cough, choking for air.

Quickly, Steve stood and reached across for her water. He set the edge of the cup against her lips and let her drink until she waved him away. After he set the cup down, he took his seat and waited until Peggy was breathing regularly again. She turned her head to face him and froze. Her eyes widened and her face split into a smile. "Steve? Oh, it is you. I never thought you'd come."

At first, he was confused, then he remembered what he'd read in the Zodiac file about her memory fading and the Alzheimer's. "It's me," he said. "I couldn't just leave my best girl, could I?"

She reached over and took one of his hands in both her own. They felt so fragile, so unlike the hands that had shot down Hydra agents in the war, so unlike the hands that had held the gun to shoot his shield. So unlike Peggy. His brain found it difficult comprehending that this woman, lying here in such a delicate, feeble state, was the same woman who had fought alongside the soldiers. This was the same woman who had proven men wrong and joined the army. The same woman who had helped defeat Johann Schmidt and bring down his attempted reich.

Time is both fondest friend and cruelest enemy, he thought. Peggy pulled him out of his own head when she pointed at the notepad in his other hand. "What is that for?" she asked.

He looked down at it, momentarily unsure himself. "Zodiac," he mumbled. "Peggy, I have to ask you some questions for Fury. Is that alright?"