"The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound. I hunt for you with bloodied feet, across the hallow'ed ground." -- Howl, Florence + the Machine
~ ~ ~
Dugan propped her against the wall of the transmissions room. Sam faded in and out of consciousness, struggling to stay awake. They'd taken the base, but Steve was still radio silent. She had to know he was okay.
He had to be okay.
"Don't you dare die on me, freshie," Dugan said, crouching in front of her. Worry was written across his face. "What the hell happened out there?"
"Schmidt," she gasped. "New weapons. Zola's a bastard."
His wide eyes glimmered. "Well, at least you've still got your sense of humor."
"I'm gonna kill him."
"That's... a conversation for later."
Peggy paced the room back and forth, her face unnaturally white. Her brows were furrowed, red lips pressed tightly together. Sam struggled to sit up, meeting her gaze.
"I'm sorry, Peggy."
"Why?" The woman paused. Guilt washed though her and Sam lowered her eyes. Her voice shook.
"I didn't blow up the plane, I didn't board it with him--"
"Clarence."
She cut off, looking back up. Peggy shook her head.
"No."
It was a simple order, but a firm one. Sam managed a smile, though she was too worried to truly feel it, and nodded. "Thank you."
"Steve is going to be okay."
"Yeah," she swallowed. "He's a fighter."
The woman went back to pacing and Sam slumped back down, her mind flying back to earlier events. She kept seeing William's face over and over again. Meg, her mother. She nearly couldn't believe it was true.
Ghostwalking, Meg had called it. Touched by the space stone.
Did she mean the Tesseract?
Sam would like to believe it was all a hallucination, but their appearance was exactly like the first one she'd experienced upon coming into her powers. It was too similar to be a coincidence. She clenched her jaw, glaring at the floor.
She didn't know who to talk to about it. Howard, maybe?
She'd seen those that should be dead. Suddenly, her heart twisted and Sam realized there had been one face she'd missed. She'd seen all those she loved.
Why hadn't she seen Bucky?
Sam clutched at her tags. Her thoughts spun too fast. She felt sick again.
Suddenly, the sound of static filled the air.
"C--come in. This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?"
Peggy started toward the controls, pressing the transmissions button. Sam sat straight up, her heart leaping into her throat.
"Steve, is that you?" Peggy's voice cracked. "Are you alright?"
"Peggy!" He sounded relieved. Sam struggled to stand and Dugan hurried over to support her side, wrapping an arm around her waist. She stumbled to Peggy's side.
"Schmidt's dead," Steve said.
Her heart stopped.
"D-dead?" Sam barely rasped the word. She leaned heavily against Dugan's side, trying to take in the information.
"Samantha?"
"I'm here," she blinked. Dead.
"What about the plane?" Peggy asked. "Steve, where are you?"
For a moment, they only heard static. Then his voice again, softer this time. "That's a little bit tougher to explain."
"Give me your coordinates," Peggy said. Her shoulders had gone rigid but Sam could see she was fighting to keep the panic from her voice. "I'll find you a safe landing site."
Her own throat tightened. Meg's words echoed through her ears. Don't get on the plane, Sammy. You won't survive the crash.
"There's not going to be a safe landing," Steve whispered. "But I can try and force it down."
You won't survive the crash.
"No--" Sam shook her head, pushing away from Dugan. He said something but she started away, stumbling over her own feet and falling heavily against the wall. She slipped down the the floor, trembling.
Not again, she couldn't go through this again.
"I'll get Howard on the line," Peggy pleaded. "He'll know what to do."
"There's not enough time. This thing's moving too fast and it's heading for New York--" For a moment, the transmission faded to static. Then his voice again. "I gotta put her in the water."
Sam squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the sound of his voice. She curled into a ball, shaking her head. Not again, not again.
"Please," Peggy's voice broke. She sounded so shattered, it made Sam want to disappear; if only she wouldn't hear her pleas anymore, hear Steve's defeat. She couldn't bear hearing another goodbye. "Don't do this. We have time. We can work it out."
"Right now I'm in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die. This is my choice." He was quiet for a second. "Peggy?"
"I'm here," she whispered.
"I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance."
Peggy dropped her head, silent for a moment. "A-alright." Her shaking voice was soft. "A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club."
"You got it."
"Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late. Understood?"
"You know," he said. "I still don't know how to dance."
"I'll show you how. Just... be there."
A sad laugh filtered through the speaker. "We'll have the band play somethin' slow. I'd hate to step on your--"
His voice cut out. Nothing but static came through the speakers, colder than death itself. Peggy made a strangled noise; something between a cry and a sob.
"Steve...? Steve?"
Sam closed her eyes. "He's gone."
Some part of her had known. The second Meg's words had come echoing back, some twisted part of her had known. But it didn't make it hurt any less.
Dugan said something, but she wasn't listening anymore. Sam wrapped her arms around her legs, pulling them in close, and sat there. She'd stopped trembling. She only sat now, eyes shut, head on her knees.
She could hear Peggy sobbing.
But from her own closed eyes, no tears fell.
He's gone.
~ ~ ~
The funeral of Captain America was a national event.
Of course it was, he'd been a hero.
But the funeral of Steven Grant Rogers, on the other hand, was a quiet mourning among friends.
They sat in a new pub in London. It wasn't the same; it was louder, there was no piano. But they all sat around the table, faces twisted with sorrow.
The Howling Commandos. Peggy Carter. Howard Stark.
"To the Captain," Falsworth said, raising his glass. They all offered up a toast; a toast without cheer. Sam gripped her drink tightly.
She reached for Peggy's hand, giving it a squeeze. The woman smiled sadly, inclining her head.
"Will the Commandos continue on without him?" Howard asked. They were all quiet for a moment, looking to her. Sam's heart stopped and she met Dugan's eyes.
"You'll have to tell me."
"Freshie?"
"He would have wanted you to lead," Sam said. "Dum Dum Dugan, leader of the Howling Commandos. Has a ring to it, don't you think?"
"You sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," she smiled, nodding her head. His eyes lit up and he grinned, raising his glass again.
"To the Howling Commandos. May we make o'l Cap proud."
The others cheered.
Sam swallowed hard.
"What will you do?" Peggy asked, quiet enough that the others couldn't hear. Sam clenched her jaw and didn't answer. She only squeezed her hand tighter. As if it could provide some sort of comfort.
"There's still Hydra to take down," Howard said. "The war may be over, but those cockroaches have only scuttled back to their nests."
"Then it looks like we'll have to gas them back out," Gabe said. The other cheered again.
Sam managed a smile. Even if she wasn't fully listening.
They sat through the night, settling into the new pub, trying to focus on the realization that the war had been won; not the pain of what it had cost. Finally, Sam stood, smiling fondly over them all.
"I'm going to turn in for the night."
They all protested. But Dugan met her gaze, nodding with a soft grin. "Of course, freshie. Briefing tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," she agreed. Her stomach twisted at it.
At the lie.
"I--" Her throat tightened. She forced a smile, nodding again. "You're all the perfect team."
They grinned back. She turned away.
But Peggy excused herself too, following her out. Sam paused on the stoop outside, turning with a grimace.
There was no question in Peggy's eyes as she crossed her arms. "Where will you go?"
"What do you mean?"
"Samantha Clarence, I'm no fool." Her tone was firm, but grief flickered in her eyes. "Where will you go?"
Sam swallowed, shrugging. "Brooklyn. Queens. Beyond there, maybe. New York."
"You're not going to tell them?"
She smiled sadly. "Would they let me go?"
Peggy didn't answer that.
"I need to do this," Sam said softly. "I'm not going to stop; I'm not giving my mantle up. But I need to do this."
There were too many memories. Not just here, in London's streets, but in the entire SSR. And... she'd lost trust in them. She couldn't work alongside Zola. She couldn't pretend the war, the betrayal, and the pain hadn't happened.
Sam didn't want to live any more lies.
"I'll be a shadow," she said, a small smile pulling at her lips. "Working from the sidelines. A Phantom."
"Just... stay safe, Clarence."
"Why, I'd never purposely attract danger."
Peggy laughed, even with the tears in her eyes. She sighed, brushing them away. "I'm going to miss you. We could have used another female leader in the SSR."
"You're going to make history one day, Carter." Sam swallowed hard. "Be what the little girls look up to, yeah?"
"I'll do my best."
Smiling, she nodded, stepping back off the stoop. She started to turn, when Peggy gasped.
"Wait!"
Sam turned and she pulled something from her pocket, stepping forward and pushing it into her hands. A vital. Her blue eyes were unreadable now.
"Stark... came up with it. If you ever wanted to... you know. Reverse things."
Sam froze, staring at her. "Really?"
"I'm not going to tell you what to do," Peggy murmured. "But don't forget, Samantha, that you're no villain. Eternity is a long time, but you never know when the world might need the Phantom."
She jolted at that.
Meg had said the same thing.
Slipping the vital into her pocket, Sam nodded. It felt heavy, despite weighing nothing. She managed one more smile, a tear slipping down her cheek.
"Goodbye, Peggy."
"Goodbye, Sam."
Turning, Sam started into the darkness. The streets of London were silent, the moon high in the sky. The chain clinked around her neck; Bucky's tags, her engagement ring, a silver wing. Under her coat, she wore Stark's designed uniform.
She could feel Peggy's gaze, all the way until the darkness swallowed her up. But Sam forced the tears not to fall. Not yet.
She still had one more stop to make.
~ ~ ~
"Don't reverse what's been given to you."
William's words rang through her ears as Sam gazed out over the water. The park was hauntingly quiet, not a soul in sight. Only the moon reflected off the pond, the breeze causing ripples to disorient the image.
Sam slipped the vital out of her pocket. She gazed down at the dark liquid, biting her lip.
Eternity; she wasn't sure she was ready to face that long.
William's warning echoed again.
Clenching the vital tighter, Sam raised her eyes back up. She listened to the sound of the lapping waves, closing her eyes tight. How long ago had they been here? How long since she'd sat under the stars with Bucky, watching night turn to day?
Tell me we're going to be okay.
Sam swallowed, opening her eyes again. "I'm going to be okay."
She tried to believe the words, wanting to more than anything else. This war... it had taken so much from her. But at the same time, it had given her twice as much. Determination blazed in her chest, a flame that she nursed and ignited brighter.
She might need it, if she was going to face eternity.
Rearing back, she threw the vital through the air, hearing a faint splash as it hit the water. The waves rippled, the silver moon becoming a trembling image.
Her own face reflected off the water. Green eyes glowing in the darkness., starlight caught on the tags around her neck.
I'm going to be okay.
The water slowly calmed. But by the time the ripples faded, the reflection was gone; Samantha Clarence was gone. In the end, what had begun had also ended. Her story was but a ghost tale.
Only the Phantom remained now.
~ ~ ~
I could kinda cry right now. Not just because of sadness... but yeah, mostly because of sadness. This book has been my world lately! What am I supposed to do now?
In addition, there will be an upcoming credits update, some acknowledgments, and... a sequel? You'll all have to see, that'll be released later! (At some point? Soon, maybe? I guess we'll see)