Work Text:
A woman with dark hair walked up to her house. It was a nice place, just one floor. Her veteran’s compensation paid well enough that she could afford to live alone. The war had been done for a few years, but the former soldier still didn’t know what to do with herself. Peggy Carter unlocked the door and slipped inside. Usually late night walks cleared her head, but today she felt just as muddled as when she left. She walked to her bedroom and sat down. The picture on her bedside table caught her eye. It was a picture of Steve in his army uniform. It had been a long time since the fateful day his plane crashed, but the pain was still fresh. Colonel Phillips had sent a team to scour the ocean; there was no trace. She hadn’t expected them to find him. Speaking to Steve on the plane, she had instinctively known those words would be the last. A few tears dripped down her face. Absently, she reached up and wiped them away. She sighed and allowed her mind to imagine what life could have been like if they had both survived the war. Marriage and kids would have been inevitable. Their children would’ve been beautiful, with bright blue eyes and dark hair. She smiled through her tears as she pictured Steve, in the middle of the night, singing a little child to sleep. How precious. She was sure their children would’ve been ‘daddy’s kids’. A car screeched outside and the driver shouted at the person crossing the street, jerking her back to reality. Peggy stared at the picture in her hands. How quickly her dreams had been shattered.
The sharp knife of a short life…