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It was two in the morning when Steve got the unexpected call.
"Hello?" He greeted sleepily, holding the phone close to his ear as sat on the bed.
"Captain Rogers? It's Sharon." Her voice wavered and she sounded like she had been crying. Steve immediately got up from his seat, concern and worry taking over his sleepiness.
"Sharon? Are you all right? What's wrong?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine," she assured him, her voice gentle. "It's aunt Peggy..."
She didn't have to say more, Steve knew.
Steve was always one to keep his emotions in check, but after that dreadful phone call, he spent the rest of the night crying in his bed.
He stood there in the middle of the cemetery, under the grim dark sky; staring down at the stone and mound of soil among the green grass.
Margaret "Peggy" Carter
April 9, 1921 - July 20, 2016
Beloved mother, wife, aunt, and friend.
May your beautiful soul rest in peace
He never thought he'd see the day he outlived Peggy. Even when he finally woke up ninety years after he crashed, the thought never came to him. He believed he would die before Peggy did.
And yet, here he was, standing over her grave.
The ceremony had been peaceful. A lot of people came, all of which Steve had no idea as to who they were at all, except for Sharon. He didn't talk much to her. In fact, he didn't talk to her at all; they just nodded curtly at each other. He was thankful she called him, though. At least she knew how much Peggy had meant to him.
When everybody was gone, he finally took a seat on the grass. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and thought about every memory he had with Peggy. Every conversation, every look, every laugh, every kiss.
He never got that dance.
He tried so hard to hold back his tears, he really did. But the realization had settled. She was gone forever. So he let a tear escape as the love that could never be rested six feet under.
"Steve Rogers?"
Steve turned his head to see an old man sat on an electrical wheelchair. He had powder-white hair and a timeworn face, full of wrinkles. His eyes were bloodflecked and watery
"Yes, sir." Steve nodded. "Is there something I can help you with?" He was about to walk towards the old man but was stopped.
"No need, no need." His voice was shaky. Steve couldn't tell if it was because he had cried too much or the effect of his age. The man pushed a lever on his wheelchair with his crooked fingers and it moved forward until finally parking next to the blond.
The man sighed, closing his eyes. Steve thought it was best to let him be, so he he stood quietly, wiping the trail of tears on his face as he looked down at his shoes.
Minutes pass before the silence beteeen them was finally broken.
"You know, I always thought I'd die before she did," the old man said, his watery eyes fixed on the tombstone.
"I lost a leg; ended up using a false one and a crutch to walk. I was a good agent, though. I could handle myself on the field, but I would lose focus every once in a while. Peggy? She was always careful. I'm sure if it wasn't for her I'd already be dead sixty years ago."
"You were an agent, sir?" Steve asked.
"Yes. Worked for the SSR and then SHIELD when Peggy founded it with Stark. Peggy was made director and I was deputy director for thirty years."
"You were close with her, then?"
The old man looked up at Steve for a while before giving his lips curl in a small, genuine smile.
"She gave me two beautiful kids."
Steve's eyes widened in surprise. He knew Peggy was married, he just never knew who the lucky bastard was.
"Daniel Sousa." The man let out hand that shook as much as his voice.
"Steve Rogers." He shook his hand.
"I know."
Silence filled the air as both men stared down at the grave of the most important woman in their lives.
"Thank you," Steve said.
"For what?"
"For taking care of her. You know, when I was gone."
"You don't have to thank me." Sousa sighed. "I loved that woman since the day she stepped foot on the SSR office. I would have done anything for her."
Steve looked down. There were so many times he had wished he was Peggy's husband, really. He would spend late nights thinking about the what ifs had he not fallen down on that plane. But of course, it was all too late. He woke up ninety years later. Sometimes he wondered if it was better if he never had woken up at all.
"She loved you, you know," Sousa said. "I mean, she got over your supposed death and all, but even after that--even after we were married with kids--she still loved you. Not in the way she used to, no, but you were still a big part of her life. She even named our son Steve. Well, Harrison Steve." He chuckled. "She named him for the brave, kind-hearted man she had told me a lot about. And that was how our son turned out; brave and kind-hearted. So for that, I thank you."
Steve smiled for the first time in days.