InsaneJournal

Who: Peggy and open only to Steve, Tony and Bucky
When: Weds Jan 14, early early morning
Where: Cottage porch
What: Memories and bullet wounds (cos I saw Agent Carter and Peggy won't stop now)
Rating: High for themes
Status: Closed to those above/ongoing

There seemed to be the old slow music everywhere in a quiet house. The rooms were small but they seemed more empty and cold than they had done so in such a long time. Peggy didn't know for how long she'd been sat at the frontmost window of the cottage, peering into the garden with the tiny patio table; it was a scene she'd looked at a million times or more perhaps but she couldn't see it now. No. All in her mind's eye was the music, smells of pipe tobacco and rancid American coffee occupying walls. Absently, her thumb ran over her wedding ring and engagement ring in a soft motion back and forth.

She saw Howard and his courtesy, despite the playfulness in his eyes. She heard's Steve' voice over the radio saying his goodbye. Felt Bucky's eyes on her in that damned pub, the blessed red dress. Felt her old wounds and scars, and felt the ones that weren't hers too.

Peggy pulled her coat around her shoulders quietly and slipped on Steve's shoes by the door. Just some fresh air to clear the memories, the dreams and nightmares. God, how she did miss Howard sometimes. Despite...despite it all. She missed it all, and hated it too.

She perched herself in the patio seat and breathed the fresh, frozen morning air and for a moment she felt new and whole and so, so alone.