Work Text:
Dear Steve,
It feels so strange to write your name like that again. You’ve no idea how many letters I wrote you after you went down--angry letters, miserable letters full of scratched-out words, and I’m glad you don’t ever have to read them because they’re horrible things. I was furious, you know. We both knew what you had to do that day, but for a long time after I couldn’t make peace with myself, thinking I might have stopped it somehow.
At first I was angry with you again when I found out that you were alive, and that you knew I was alive. My nephew tells me I walked around the house with a glower fit to raise a thunderstorm for days. But then my head cleared, and I remembered how you were always so accommodating, trying your stubborn best not to inconvenience anyone even when they wanted to be inconvenienced. (Need I remind you how long it took you to ask me to dance?)
And I thought to myself, that Steve Rogers. He probably thinks I don’t care to hear from him. (Either that or you thought I was too old to remember you. Please don’t tell me if that’s the case, and I won’t have to smack you.) Well, I decided I’d better set you straight right away. Steve, you fool. Of course I’d like to hear from you.
Write or call, or email if you’d rather. (Do you have an email address yet?) Too many people were lost in the war, Steve, and I refuse to lose your friendship a second time. It may be awkward and painful and strange at first, but I’m up to the challenge if you are. I’ve so much to tell you. And I’ve missed you very much.
Yours,
Peggy