Who: Steve and Peggy What: A shoulder to lean on When: A few days after the weapons demo
The very last place in all of Panem that Steve wanted to be right now was the Capitol. He'd been so relieved to finally escape after his last extended stay, and he certainly hadn't planned on returning any time soon. If this was the only way to keep Peggy from coming to Eight though, he could make that sacrifice. It was... hard to be in Eight right now, anyway. The Peacekeepers were everywhere, exercising their authority with iron grips and cruel punishments. There had been public whippings for the slightest of infractions, and they'd been enforcing the curfew down to the minute. Still, Steve would have hesitated to consider Eight's population subdued; if anything, they were angrier than ever, even if they weren't acting on it in any noticeable way. That undercurrent of rage was there, and Steve had a feeling it wasn't accomplishing anything other than making the Peacekeepers hit them that much harder.
As for Steve, he was still more sick with grief and guilt than anger. That would come, he was sure; and when it finally did, it would no doubt burn away his sorrow, replace it with something more useful, if not more advisable. He just wasn't there. Not yet.
There was a mirrored wall in the lobby of Peggy's building, the kind of thing that you couldn't help glancing at as you walked past, and Steve caught his reflection as he crossed to the elevator that would take him up to Peggy's apartment. He had on a dark jacket, and the hood he'd pulled up hid his recognizable blond hair. He hadn't wanted to risk anyone spotting him on his way over here. It was a decent disguise, as unremarkable as he could possibly make it. Even from this distance though, he could see the dark shadows underneath his eyes, evidence of the fact that he hadn't slept in days. He'd dozed here and there, when his body had finally given out on him, but never for more than a couple hours at a time. His hands were bandaged, too, because the gouges on his palms were deeper than he'd first thought and kept breaking open. They were ugly, jagged and wicked, and he didn't want Peggy to have to see them.
Hell, he didn't want Peggy to see him right now, but she'd left him no choice.
Steve ducked his head to avoid the mirror and got onto the elevator, punching the button for Peggy's floor. She knew he was on his way; he'd texted her as soon as he'd arrived at the train station, so when the elevator doors opened, he headed straight for her door, rapping his knuckles gently against the wood, then waiting for her to answer.