Captain America and Bucky Barnes Imagines

9. STEVE: Lilacs

You feel tears in your eyes. "Peggy, I..." Your voice cracks and you can't find the proper words.

"Please don't ever feel pity for me. I am filled with nothing but love for you both. You're good for Steve and I know that every day that he's with you he's a happier man." She's nearly crying now, too. "He deserves a happy life. For a long time I wished I'd been the one to be able to give it to him, but now that I've seen you... well, I know that there's no one more suited for him. "

You take a hard swallow.

Peggy laughs. "Look at us—wallowing like little girls." You join her chuckling as she wipes her face. You don't bother smearing away the tears from yours.

"Is this why you stayed? To talk to me?"

"I needed to make sure Steve would be alright. I saw you make your way into his life, and I wanted to be able to see it through. And then I wanted to make sure that little flicker of self-doubt you have in your chest—the one that I unknowingly lit—was put out before it could light a fire that would destroy your chances at a life with him." You nod in acknowledgement of what she says. She takes a deep breath. "You'll take care of him for me?"

"Always." You offer her a sad smile.

You feel her hand lay atop of yours. "You're his whole world, Y/N. Don't forget that."

"I won't," you promise her very sincerely.

Peggy's ruby red lips open again to speak, but before she can get the chance the bedroom door is opening wide. Her eyes dart to the doorway where your boyfriend now stands. You see the look in her eyes—the sadness mixed with the relief. She takes in the expression on his face when he first sees you sitting on the bed, seemingly by yourself, with big streaks of mascara tears running down both cheeks.

"Oh my god! What happened?" Steve gasps. He rushes to your side and takes your face in his hands—unknowingly kneeling just in front of where Peggy Carter sits. His thumbs delicately try to erase the tears from your cheeks. "Honey what's wrong? Talk to me, love." You see the adoration in his eyes and then see the smile crossing over Peggy's lips. She looks so... happy.

"I'm fine," you croak unsteadily. You close your eyes and try to calm yourself. "I'm fine."

Clueless, Steve glances around the room. "Is someone...?"

"Yes," you tell him. "Someone's here."

Steve grows a bit stiffer. He's never been fond of ghosts. "Oh, oh I see." He strokes some hair behind your ears. "You gonna be alright? We can reschedule tonight."

You see Peggy vigorously shaking her head. Slightly taken aback by her strong disposition to that offer, you chuckle a bit. "No, Steve. It's alright. I'll be good to go."

"Go with him now." You hear Peggy's voice and look again to where she sits. Steve notices the shift in your attention and stares wide-eyed at the empty spot on the bed.

"Are they still here?" Steve whispers like the ghost is unable to hear.

Peggy laughs, and you do too. Steve can be so clueless.

"Yes," you tell him.

"I'll give you a minute..."

"No," you take his hand and say before he can disappear. "Don't leave."

Steve nods. "Alright, babe." He looks to the spot next to you. "Do I know them?"

You look to Peggy. She gives her head a shake. She doesn't want you to tell him.

"No," you lie. "You wouldn't know them."

Steve nods. He really believes you.

"Go on," Peggy urges. She gives you a soft push. You stumble off the bed and Steve catches you. She smirks widely. "Go out on the town with him—show him a real good time. And do me a favor and teach him how to properly dance." She winks, seeming the happiest in the moment than she's been this whole meeting. You could never imagine seeing the love of your life with another woman and being so happy, but perhaps death changes your perspective on things.

"You okay?" Steve asks. He's waited until it looks like you're not listening to someone else before asking.

"Yeah, I'm ready to go."

"We can wait if you want," Steve says.

"No, they insist." You smile at him as he helps you to your feet. "I think they're happy now." Peggy gives you a smile.

Steve holds out a hand. "You may have to fix the tear stains in the car, but at least we've got a bit of a drive."

"Are you trying to insult me, Captain?" you tease him mercilessly.

He chuckles; wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing the top of your head. You walk away from the bed. "I'd never dream of insulting my best girl."

You look back over my shoulder. Peggy's there, watching you both with so much hope and joy in her sparkling eyes. When you turn your eyes back to the front to watch your footing out the door, you hear a whisper in your ear: "Thank you, Y/N." And when you look back once more, Peggy Carter is gone.

Steve stops when you do. You've got shivers at her exit. It brings tears to your eyes—she's finally going to move on.

Steve's nose crinkles as he takes a deep whiff of the air. "Do you smell that?" he asks. Before you can answer, he adds, "Smells like lilacs. Kinda familiar, too."

You smile a bit at the little gift Peggy left behind. "I smell it too, hon."

"Huh." He looks a bit lost in thought for a moment. Then Steve shrugs then grips his hand around yours. "What do you say, doll? Ready for our date?"

"Always, Cap."

It's only five hours later when Steve Rogers proposes to you with a big diamond ring in Central Park. Its six months past that and you're wearing a white dress with long lace sleeves and a veil in the church across from his primary school in Brooklyn. Then a year goes by and there's a nursery in your house bedded for two—twins that will be born and brought home in the next few months. Then there's the day that Steve first lays the baby girl into her bed and you the brother—their hands and feet so small that you want to cry just looking at them. Margaret Natasha Rogers and James Anthony Rogers are what you've named the two blonde babies. And it's on that day as you and your husband, both so proud and happy, stand above your children's cribs; you know that Peggy Carter was really right. There's nothing sweeter in this world than your life with Steve.

And to that thought, the wind rustles through the open window of the nursery—bringing in the sweet, sentimental smell of springtime lilacs.