Gone, and forgotten

Truly gone

Peggy POV

A tragedy. That sums up the year of 1941. So many opportunities could have arisen from the promise she made the night of the crash. For the first time in her life, she had been looking forward to hanging out with a man in a non-platonic way. Maybe it was because her parents hadn't made her decisions for her or maybe it was because Steve was Steve.

It was probably the second one.

Unlike most people speculated, she wasn't in love with the super-soldier he had become but rather the skinny, gentle, and good-willed man she encountered him as. (Though she didn't mind the extra muscle)But that ship had sailed, (more like that plane had crashed) and even with all of her agents scouring the arctic in search of the lost vessel, in her heart she knew that she would never see the first avenger again.

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The day of the much-delayed funeral finally came. She wasn't going to go, if she did, it meant that he was truly gone for good.

She sat in her maroon leather love seat, with her legs were curdled to her chest and one arm loosely wrapped around her legs and her head resting on her knees. She was under the false pretense that if she thought if she curled up tight enough she would disappear from this world, all her problems along with her.

She rubbed her free hand across the cold leather, her mind lost in meaningless thought. Eventually, her hand reached the end of the couch. Slowly lifting her head, she scanned the room for a distraction. To her right, she then set her sights on a suddenly appetizing bottle of Irish cream liquor, which was slightly more empty than she remembered it being. Without moving the bulk of her body moved her already extended arm in an attempt to reach the enticing bottle, only she fell short by a few inches.

Steve could have reached it.

With as little energy possible, she scooted over slightly and raised the bottle to her lips. After a few seconds, she swiftly emptied the bottle, and carelessly dropped it on the floor, the bottle shattering on impact.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." a profoundly familiar voice responded

Peggy spun around to see none other than Howard Stark, leaning on her doorframe. "Wha-what? Howard, how did you get in here?" She said, doing her best to sound interested in the topic at hand.

"Through the front door," he said in his usual charismatic tone, "It's probably not a good example for the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. to leave her front door unlocked by the way." 

Though his tone was the usual sarcastic and easy-going, she could tell he was grieving for there dearly departed friend. Now that Peggy looked at the situation from Howard's point of view, she had been quite self-absorbed these past few days leading up to the funeral. Cowering in her apartment in self-pity she had neglected to think about the grief of others, namely Howard. She wasn't the only one who lost a friend, an ally, a partner in crime.

"Aren't you suppose to be at a funeral Stark?" Peggy said with a questioning tone.

"I could say the same to you, Agent Carter." He replied with sadness emanating from his eyes and posture. She then uncurled herself from her catlike position on the couch and padded the space next to her, signaling him to come in and sit down. As he walked over she deducted that from his attire that he was indeed planning to go to the funeral. (She assumed this by the fact that he wasn't wearing those ridiculous suspenders)

"Why did you decide not to go to the funeral?" She asked as he sat down, having a good idea of what the response would be.

"How did you know I was going in the first pla-" He said stopping mid-sentence. He shook his head and laughed dryly, "Once a spy always a spy."

"Seriously though you were clearly on your way there, why stop? Surely not for little old me. I believe my current demeanor has made it clear that I will not be attending." Peggy said in her usual confident tone, "If you're here to pick me up, then sorry to disappoint."

Howard looked as if he was about to argue.

"I may be grieving Howard but I still have a great shot." She threatened with no ill intentions, after a moment she quietly but clearly added. "I've made up my mind. I refuse to go."

"Why, may I ask?" He said with a soothing tone.

"Because if I go then, then he's actually-"

"Gone." They said together

Peggy looked up and met Howard's eyes. For the first time in a few days, she wasn't alone. She knew that there would be a hole in their hearts for some time to come, it would take some time for it all to sink in. Steve was gone from the world, Peggy and Howard knew that now. But he wasn't forgotten. But a small part of him remained in the heart of his dearest friends. They wouldn't give up if Steve was Steve and he was, (all 300 pounds of him) he wouldn't either.

At that moment, they looked into each other's hearts. The conversation they had was the most meaningful of both of there lives, yet no words were spoken. They would find Steve, even if it took an eternity, and they would do it together.