do action movies know they can have more than one female character
she has one picture of the three of them together
september 1944, in paris - she’d pulled some strings to get the commandos leave, and bucky had bullied steve into actually taking it, and then surprised them all by making her come, too - standing in front of the eiffel tower with their arms around each other, smiling at the camera. the shadows in bucky’s eyes are gone, if only for a moment, and in their civilian clothes, they look like three perfectly ordinary people enjoying the pleasures of a newly liberated city
they look, she thinks later, so very young
she doesn’t remember taking the photo until after, after a train in the mountains and a plane downed in the arctic, after hitler dies and berlin falls and germany surrenders, when there’s nothing left for her but to pack up her things and begin to move on with her life. she finds it by accident, pressed between the pages of a journal she’s checking for classified material, and the surge of grief is so real and raw that she finds herself crying all over again
the picture goes on her bedside table, where it will stay for the next seventy years, surrounded by photos of her husband, her children and grandchildren, and that, too, is fitting: all her family, past and present; all the people she loves most in the world
years and years later, steve rogers drops back into her life, just as unexpectedly as the first time. more unexpectedly, if she’s being honest.
and he is exactly as she remembers, with eyes like the sky and a heart even bigger and a moral compass that points true north (even when he doubts himself), and that way he has about him that makes people around him want to be better
and she knows, in some moments, that her mind is slipping, and it breaks her heart that steve would be present as it happens
it’s on one of her good days that steve sees the picture, and his breath hitches. she knows exactly when he catches sight of it, because everything about him goes still. “peggy,” he breathes, and there’s a rawness to his voice that makes her ache.
"we were so young," she says, not wistfully, because she has lived such a good life, but there is a quiet nostalgia in her tone.
steve is holding the frame, dwarfing the photo with his long fingers as he studies it, drinks in the sight of it like a man dying of thirst. they are silent, the two of them, for a long time, and peggy thinks she maybe wants to cry just looking at the heartbreak clear upon his face.
"i wish…" steve says, and then tapers off. she’s not quite sure that he knows what he was going to say.
"i miss him too," peggy tells him, and when steve bows his head, she catches tears glistening in his eyes.
after the funeral, her son catches steve in the crowd, presses an envelope into his hands
"she wanted you to have this," he says quietly. "she would have put it in her will, if she could, but…" he clears his throat. "she was very insistent, on her good days, that i make sure this got to you."
steve never got the chance to meet peggy’s family and he knows little more about them than their names (jim, her son is called jim, and steve’s heart breaks a little every time he thinks about it), but in that moment he wants nothing more than to reach out, to share his grief for the woman they have both lost
but he has no right, he knows that, so he thanks jim and leaves him to mourn with his family. he walks back to his empty apartment in silence
there are two letters in the envelope, both in peggy’s steady, neat handwriting. the first is dated May 8, 1945, the second, three weeks before her death. he reads them slowly, memorizing every word, and he cries, then, the way he wanted to at the funeral. it is a long time before he opens the envelope again
he knows what it is before he looks, but the sight of their faces, smiling up at him in faded black and white, still makes him catch his breath. and even though his heart is breaking in his chest, he has to smile back, because he has the memory of happier times, and even though peggy is dead and bucky is… gone, maybe, just maybe, that can be enough
being romantically frustrated is 1000000 worse than being sexually frustrated because you can get yourself off but you can’t spoon with yourself and kiss your own forehead
You know, funny story: There’s this craft store called Michaels. Look, my sister knits, and she goes to Michaels. So my sister called me and she’s like, “Oh my god, I’m at Michaels, picking up yarn. You have a poster at Michaels.” I’m like, “What?” She’s like, “There’s a poster, there’s a Falcon poster at Michaels.” I’m like, “Holy s**t!” She’s like, “I’m gonna come and pick you up, and we’re gonna see your poster in this store.” So she picks me up and we go to Michaels.
We go in, and I see the poster and I’m like, “Oh, this is….” She’s like, “I know, I know.” I said, “I’m gonna sign these posters.” I was like, “That would be amazing, you buy a poster and it’s like, actually signed by the Falcon.” Like, it would blow my mind. So I go to the front, I buy a Sharpie, I run back to the back of the store. And she’s like, “I’m gonna take a picture of you signing it.”
I’m in this store and I’m signing all the posters. The manager comes out, he’s like, “Hey, whatcha doing?” I was like, “Oh man, I’m signing these posters so when people buy ‘em, they’re signed.” He’s like, “Well, people are not gonna buy ‘em if they’re signed.” And I was like, “No, no, no, it’s cool. I’m pretty sure there won’t be a problem.” And he goes, “Yeah, but it is gonna be a problem, you’re messin’ up my inventory.” And I’m like, “No, my man, trust me. I mean, I’m the Falcon, that’s me!” And he goes, “Yeah, right. You’re gonna buy those posters.” I said, “What?” He’s like, “You’re gonna buy all those posters or I’m gonna call the police.”
He rolls up all the posters and goes to the front of the store. And I had to buy like 60 Falcon posters that I signed in Michaels."