Goodbye, Margaret Carter.
.
The end was coming for Margaret Carter. This, she knew. “Well,” she thought, “I am in my mid-90’s”. Laid up in her hospital bed, the sterile smell still irritating her nose, she sighed. Life seemed so slow and so fast, at the same time. She couldn’t get enough of it, and yet she felt she’d had too much.
Her family sat around her. Not her biological one, mind. Peggy, much the head-strong, modern woman of her time, never was one to settle down. Not with anyone else. So, she adopted, eager to spread all the love she had to give to children. She smiled, as the English summer sun radiated through the window, warming her face. It was not a bad place to die, she thought. Not for a woman of war.
Her niece, Sharon, unable to stand the silence, flicked on the little telly in the corner of her enclosed bedspace.
“Hello, and welcome to BBC News at One, I’m Sian Williams. Our top story: worldwide panic ensues after the shocking and unexpected events of last night in Manhattan. We go live to our US correspondent, Matt Wells, standing among the rubble in the streets of New York. Matt?”
“Yes Sian. I’m standing here in New York City, amidst the aftermath of a devastating battle against an enemy of unknown origin. Details are sketchy, and we are expecting an announcement from the White House later today, but initial reports suggest this is the work of a specialised team against an alien incursion.”
“Is there any more information you can give us at this stage?”
“Well we do know the names of some of those involved in the protection of the Earth. Those include billionaire Tony Stark’s Iron Man, formerly-in-hiding scientist Bruce Banner, commonly known as The Hulk, and idolised, real-life superhero Captain America, not seen since the Second World Wa-“
“-since the Second World War.” A voice from the past echoed.
Steve.
She turned to look at the source of the familiar sound. And there he stood. His blond hair was combed neatly, his brown leather jacket the same she had admired seventy years previous. His tall figure, muscular but lean, stood proud, showing almost no signs of his most recent battle, save for a few slight cuts and bruises. He held in his right hand a bouquet of white carnations and yellow tulips. He smiled sheepishly.
” I guess I’m a little late for dinner, aren’t I?”
“Just a bit,” she remarked, warmly but with a hint of snarkiness. He was taken aback at how different she sounded. Frail and old, yes… but still Peggy. Still strong. He could tell she hadn’t long.
He moved to her side, handing the flowers to her personally. Their eye contact never faltered as he walked. Her family were either quiet, as though respectful, or she simply couldn’t hear them over the reinstatement of long-lost friendship and love.
“Thank you,” she said, inhaling the fresh scent.
“I remember you saying you liked them.”
Peggy Carter looked round at her children and her grandchildren, nieces, nephews. She returned her eyes to her first real love, her only love. She could let go now. She hadn’t realised that all she’d been doing for seventy years was waiting.
“I’m glad you’re here Steve.”
“It should have been different.”
“But it is how it is. I’m glad you’re alive.”
She sighed, offered a quick glance round. Her family knew what was about to come. Peggy Carter was going to stop holding on.
“I never got to say this last time, Peggy. I came straight over so that I could.” He paused, unable to let go of the only person from his time left. He took her wrinkled, withered hand, in his still young and strong one.
“My Captain America,” she smiled.
“Goodbye, Margaret Carter.”
“Goodbye, Steve Rogers.”
Her family sat around her. Not her biological one, mind. Peggy, much the head-strong, modern woman of her time, never was one to settle down. Not with anyone else. So, she adopted, eager to spread all the love she had to give to children. She smiled, as the English summer sun radiated through the window, warming her face. It was not a bad place to die, she thought. Not for a woman of war.
Her niece, Sharon, unable to stand the silence, flicked on the little telly in the corner of her enclosed bedspace.
“Hello, and welcome to BBC News at One, I’m Sian Williams. Our top story: worldwide panic ensues after the shocking and unexpected events of last night in Manhattan. We go live to our US correspondent, Matt Wells, standing among the rubble in the streets of New York. Matt?”
“Yes Sian. I’m standing here in New York City, amidst the aftermath of a devastating battle against an enemy of unknown origin. Details are sketchy, and we are expecting an announcement from the White House later today, but initial reports suggest this is the work of a specialised team against an alien incursion.”
“Is there any more information you can give us at this stage?”
“Well we do know the names of some of those involved in the protection of the Earth. Those include billionaire Tony Stark’s Iron Man, formerly-in-hiding scientist Bruce Banner, commonly known as The Hulk, and idolised, real-life superhero Captain America, not seen since the Second World Wa-“
“-since the Second World War.” A voice from the past echoed.
Steve.
She turned to look at the source of the familiar sound. And there he stood. His blond hair was combed neatly, his brown leather jacket the same she had admired seventy years previous. His tall figure, muscular but lean, stood proud, showing almost no signs of his most recent battle, save for a few slight cuts and bruises. He held in his right hand a bouquet of white carnations and yellow tulips. He smiled sheepishly.
” I guess I’m a little late for dinner, aren’t I?”
“Just a bit,” she remarked, warmly but with a hint of snarkiness. He was taken aback at how different she sounded. Frail and old, yes… but still Peggy. Still strong. He could tell she hadn’t long.
He moved to her side, handing the flowers to her personally. Their eye contact never faltered as he walked. Her family were either quiet, as though respectful, or she simply couldn’t hear them over the reinstatement of long-lost friendship and love.
“Thank you,” she said, inhaling the fresh scent.
“I remember you saying you liked them.”
Peggy Carter looked round at her children and her grandchildren, nieces, nephews. She returned her eyes to her first real love, her only love. She could let go now. She hadn’t realised that all she’d been doing for seventy years was waiting.
“I’m glad you’re here Steve.”
“It should have been different.”
“But it is how it is. I’m glad you’re alive.”
She sighed, offered a quick glance round. Her family knew what was about to come. Peggy Carter was going to stop holding on.
“I never got to say this last time, Peggy. I came straight over so that I could.” He paused, unable to let go of the only person from his time left. He took her wrinkled, withered hand, in his still young and strong one.
“My Captain America,” she smiled.
“Goodbye, Margaret Carter.”
“Goodbye, Steve Rogers.”