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𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝐸𝑁 𝐺𝑜 𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑦 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑒
☀︎︎
London was nothing like Eddy remembered. The last time he'd been in the country was the weeks before and after VE Day, and that atmosphere had been unmatchable. For most of his trip, Eddy was stuck in a sludge.
Peggy's funeral was on a Saturday when the sun was shining and a cool breeze hung in the air as if something was smiling down in remembrance of his sister's life. Steve carried her coffin and Eddy remained at the back of the church to watch the ceremony, too afraid to see another familiar face which he would have to forget. No one else could know he was in this time. That was the agreement, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep.
The photo at the front by the coffin was one from Peggy's days in the war, just how Edward remembered her. Her hair was dark and curled, pinned back at the fronts, her lips painted a dark purplish-red. She was in her uniform too, the British flag pinned to her shoulder.
He watched with blurry eyes as a young, blonde woman stepped up to the podium, her lips cast into a frown.
"Many knew Peggy as the founder of SHIELD. But to me, she was always Aunt Peggy."
Aunt Peggy. That would make her a niece- the daughter or granddaughter of one of Peggy's siblings. But Michael had died during the war and Peggy had cried that Edward had never returned to them- to his virgin timeline. His throat felt dry to the point he thought he may be sick. Sitting at the front of the church with Sam, Steve looked on during the speech with a similar expression of fright. He turned his head to Eddy, catching his eye.
I didn't know either.
☀︎︎
According to the book he found outside of his bedroom door, likely placed there by Vision, there were five stages to grief and it seemed as if Edward had mastered almost each and every one of them.
Denial had happened quickly. It seemed to be the most sensible action, given that Peggy, in his mind, was still twenty-six. Anger had come next. The punching bags in the training room had not lasted more than a day. In amongst the bitterness, he'd found that propelling himself forward before teleporting into the target could give a force behind his punch like nothing he could ever singularly produce. His bargaining stage had come in the form of a desperate attempt to remember- constant what-ifs and if onlys filled his thoughts until he couldn't sleep.
The depression had hit hard at his worst. Again, as he'd done after he'd seen Peggy again, he'd confined himself to his room. It felt pointless, trying to come out and go on. He was, quite literally, out of place, or out of time, which was a better description. His eyes were rubbed raw, throat dry and scratchy and his tears had run dry four days after the funeral. Acceptance hadn't come very easy- he struggled and would struggle with it for some time. But each day, things became easier, and with acceptance came control.
