October 1936 II

It was rather stuffy inside the small church. All the windows were open to hopefully bring in the cool air from outside. The building was surprisingly full. Medical professionals, both past and current, army veterans, and faces from the neighborhood made up most of the crowd. Sarah Rogers had made quite a profound impact on people's lives. But Steve was Sarah's only family member in attendance. Steve had been Sarah's only family for the last few years and now he had no one.

Because of that, Libby refused to leave Steve's side as they entered the church. He had tried to convince her to go sit with her family, but she had refused him. Libby knew that he was going to need someone. Instead, she held fast to his arm as they walked behind the casket being carried in. Steve made no move to shake her off and free his arm. Instead, he looked at her and sighed, accepting her help, before they walked the short aisle toward the simple wooden casket. It was all that could be afforded from the neighborhood collection, which Libby was certain her father had contributed most of. Not that he told Steve that. He didn't want Steve to feel obligated to him in any way, because Steve was the type of guy that would feel beholden.

With Libby on his arm, Steve stopped a few feet from where the casket had been placed. Steve took a rather shaky breath before the turned to look at Libby. "Libby, I…" his voice cracked. She could see the tears threatening to spill in his eyes. Libby gently rubbed his arm with her gloved hand. He wanted to do this on his own. She could give him that, but she wouldn't go far.

"I'll wait right here," she whispered, looking him in the eyes.

Steve blinked back some tears and nodded his head. Libby removed her hand from him and watched as he slowly took his last steps toward his mother. He took a deep breath, well, as deep as his asthma would allow before he slowly lowered his shaky hands to the top of the casket. His thumbs rubbed circles on the smooth wood. Libby saw a few of Steve's unbidden tears fall onto the casket.

After a sharp inhalation, Steve pulled away from the casket. He hung his head as he turned toward Libby, not wanting anyone to see his tears. When he approached Libby, he rested his hand on her back and with his other hand ushered her toward the front pew. Libby walked into the pew and sat down, leaving space for Steve to sit. Her mother, father, and Bucky were also seated in the pew. Bucky gave her a knowing look and shook his head. Libby blushed, but thankfully once Steve was seated, the preacher began to speak.

The preacher talked about Sarah Rogers and of how she was a good, kind, decent person taken away too soon, but received her crown of joy. Steve's hand shook as it rested on his knee. Without even thinking, Libby reached over and took hold of his hand with hers. His hand stopped shaking and curled around hers. Realizing what she had done, Libby cast a side glance at Steve to see his reaction. He didn't even seem fazed by her action. Instead, he kept his gaze on the preacher while holding onto her hand. Libby refused to even glance Bucky's way to see if he had a reaction.

When it was Steve's turn to go up and give a eulogy, Libby gave his hand a firm squeeze before she released his hand and he slowly made his way up to the pulpit. He took a folded up piece of paper out of the pocket inside his suit coat. Without looking up at those gathered, Steve unfolded the piece of paper and smoothed it out on the pulpit. He cleared his throat and looked up. His eyes widened, taking notice for the first time of everyone gathered. Steve looked like he was about to panic, but then he made eye contact with Libby.

Libby took a deep breath to remind him to breathe and Steve followed suit, taking a breath. She then nodded her head, letting him know that everything was going to be okay and he nodded his head back. Again, Libby refused to look at Bucky.

Steve cleared his throat once more. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Sarah's son, Steve." He paused and then slightly chuckled, shaking his head. "But you probably figured as much when the preacher said as much before I came up here."

Small chuckles rippled through those in attendance. Even Libby chuckled.

He took another breath and continued. "From the looks of it, some of you worked with my mom. She never had a bad thing to say about any of you. She always reminded me of how dedicated each and every one of you was. She would say that it was an honor to work beside such hard-working people like you."

Libby looked over her shoulder to see people nodding.

"And I think some of you were helped by my mom when you came back stateside after the war before she moved to the tuberculosis ward. She spoke of how brave you were and how you deserved the very best after everything you did on behalf of our country. And some of you probably even knew my dad. Mom always appreciated those of you who would stop by occasionally to check on a widow and her son. It meant a lot to her...and me. It meant a lot to me too."

"I see some people from the neighborhood here. Mom always appreciated your kindness and willingness to help out those in need. While Mom liked to be able to provide for us on her own, she was always appreciative that you wanted to help us, even if she didn't always let you help. Mom loved people. She loved being able to help people. She loved being able to comfort them during a time of loss. And that's just what Mom decided to do before she died. She decided to find words of comfort for those who would mourn her loss."

Steve closed his eyes and his fingers tightly gripped the pulpit. He took another breath and opened his eyes, but kept his gaze on the pulpit. "Mom loved to read her Bible and so it's rather fitting that she chose to find words of comfort from it." Steve gave a small, tired smile. "She chose her favorite psalm, Psalm 23."

Libby mouthed the words along with Steve as he read. "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

When he had finished reading, Steve folded up the piece of paper and put it back in his suit coat pocket. Without another word, he stepped down from the podium and walked back to his spot in the front pew beside Libby. She offered him a reassuring smile. He nodded his head in response. Steve sat down, but seconds after he was seated, the preacher had them stand for prayers. That always seemed to happen in church. Just when you sat down, they would stand the congregation back up. Libby knew this from when she sang for church.

So, they stood up. Libby was surprised to find that Steve reached for her hand as he bowed his head for prayer. A slight blush crept up Libby's cheeks as Steve gave her hand a squeeze. She squeezed his back and bowed her head. Libby knew she probably shouldn't read too much into this. He probably was just acknowledging that he needed someone to lean on. It was likely his small way of letting someone be there for him. But that didn't stop Libby from hoping that it meant something more.

After what seemed like a hundred amens, they were finally allowed to sit once more. Steve still held onto her hand. The preacher announced the final hymn. With her free hand, Libby reached to grab the hymnal in front of her, but before she could grab it, Bucky swiped it. He offered her a quick wink before he paged through the book for the closing hymn. That left one hymnal for her and Steve to share.

Steve released her hand and reached for the hymnal. Once he found the hymn, Steve held the hymnal toward her. She smiled softly. Even in his grief, he thought to be kind to her. Most of the boys in Libby's experience would be too consumed by their grief to think of someone else. Steve was different. As the hymn started, Libby's bright soprano voice soared over the rest of the congregation. While Libby's first dream was to be a wife and mother, her second dream was to be a singer. And while her first dream of marrying Steve wasn't completely sensible, it was much more sensible than her second dream.

The hymn finished. Bucky, Mr. Barnes, a doctor Mrs. Rogers once worked with, two army men Libby didn't recognize, and Mr. Anthony who lived in the apartment downstairs from the Rogers' family all stood up and walked up to the casket to carry it out. They had been chosen as the pallbearers for the service. Libby saw Steve's mouth thank you to them. Bucky nodded his head. Mrs. Rogers' casket was then carried down the aisle of the small church.

Steve stood up. He stood in the aisle to let Libby and Mrs. Barnes out of the pew. Mrs. Barnes gently rested her hand on Steve's shoulder and looked at him sympathetically. Steve nodded his head. They stood there for a second, which seemed like an eternity, debating who should go first: the women or Steve. But Mrs. Barnes was quick to solve the issue, "Go on, dear," she whispered to Steve.

Steve inhaled slowly and then nodded his head. He looked at Libby. He slightly moved his arm toward her. If she hadn't been looking at his arm, she would have missed his attempt at the gesture. Right now, he needed her. So, she gently placed her hand on his arm and slowly walked with him behind his mother's casket. She could feel eyes on them, but right now Steve needed her.

They walked outside, stopping at the bottom of the steps watching as Mrs. Rogers' casket was loaded into the hearse. Steve stiffened as he tried to not let his tears spill. "No one will think any less of you," Libby whispered to him.

He gently patted her hand that rested on his arm before he removed his arm from her grasp. "I should go thank everyone that came," he said, ignoring her words.

"Steve," Libby gently chided.

"Its what my mom would want." Steve then ran back up the steps of the church to thank those exiting the church building.

Libby sighed and shook her head as she watched Steve shake hands with the first gentleman to exit the church. While Steve could certainly be sweet, he was also just as stubborn. He was avoiding the inevitable and Libby had a feeling he was going to have a breakdown at the cemetery.

With his hands shoved into his pants pockets, Bucky approached his sister. He stood beside her watching Steve shaking hands with another funeral attendee. "I saw that in there," he commented to his sister.

"I don't know what you're referring to," Libby responded coyly.

Bucky chuckled. "I'm just letting you know that I approve."

That hadn't always been the case. When Libby first started being sweet on Steve, Bucky had been quite furious. But now Bucky saw it more as a point to tease his sister. Libby folded her arms across her chest. "You're incorrigible," she retorted. When she saw her mother looking at her sternly, she unfolded her arms from her chest dropped them to her side. It wasn't very welcoming to have ones' arms folded across their chest.

Bucky leaned toward his sister and whispered in her ear. "You should give him that letter."

Libby's heart sank as she looked at her brother incredulously. She knew he was referring to the letter she had carefully kept hidden away in her bureau drawer. How did Bucky know about that? He had likely rifled through her belongings and gone snooping at some point.

Bucky smirked. "Steve's a good guy, but he doesn't have a clue. I haven't said anything because...I just haven't."

"The letter isn't for him, James."

"Your postscript says otherwise, Elizabeth."

Libby groaned. Of course, he had seen that. He was likely to lord it over her 'til kingdom come. "Why do you even care?" Libby hissed quietly for only Bucky to hear while keeping her composure for those passing by them.

"What can I say? After all this, I just wanna see Steve happy and I think my little sister can do that for him." Bucky pulled one of his hands out of his pockets to wave at one of Steve's neighbor's he knew rather well.

Libby arched an eyebrow at her brother. "So, you don't want to see me happy?"

Bucky rolled his eyes. "This is why most men find you annoying. They think you impertinent."

Libby's jaw dropped at her brother's comment. If looks could kill, Bucky likely would have dropped dead in front of everyone. But he quickly put both his hands out in front of him in defense. "Hey now, I didn't say I thought that...or that even Steve for that matter."

"Just everyone else," Libby retorted.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. Had they not been in public, Libby would have slugged her brother. Libby squared her shoulders. "Now isn't the time for this, James," Libby chided. "He just lost his mother. He's grieving and he's going to be grieving for some time. I don't want him thinking I pity him."

"No, you're just in love with him and he doesn't know. That isn't really any better...for either of you."

Libby shook her head, biting her tongue the best she could. But it wasn't in her nature, especially with her brother. "Those people who find me impertinent have clearly never met you."

She stomped one of her heeled shoes near her brother's foot before she walked toward her parents. Although she could have sworn she heard Bucky mutter, "Impertinent, huh? I'll show you impertinent. Just you wait."

Libby stayed by parents' sides until all the funeral goers had dispersed leaving only Steve and the Barnes family. Steve looked exhausted, but he still had a private graveside memorial to attend. He descended the stairs and extended his hand toward Mr. Barnes. "Thank you, sir," Steve said shaking Mr. Barnes's hand.

"We're here for you, Steve," Mr. Barnes said echoing Libby's words from earlier. "I've always thought of you as a son and that's not going to change."

"Thank you, sir," Steve responded as he released Mr. Barnes's hand.

"Dinner. You can come for dinner as often as you want, Steven," Mrs. Barnes said, again with her annoying habit of using a person's full first name. Steve attempted a smile. "I expect to see you no less than once a week, you hear me?"

"I hear you, Mrs. Barnes," Steve said with a sigh.

Mrs. Barnes beamed with satisfaction as Bucky approached them after having flirted with some dame who had been passing by on the street. Libby found her brother utterly predictable when it came to the fairer sex and for some reason, women would flock to him. She found it rather annoying that her brother could charm almost anyone. She could only hope that one day Bucky would meet his match in a woman, who wasn't afraid to knock him down a peg or two. Of course, Libby thought so in a loving manner.

As Mrs. Barnes continued to talk with Steve, Libby turned toward her brother. "Was that necessary?" Libby whispered to her brother. "Today of all days?"

"The lady was in need of directions," Bucky responded to his sister. "I don't think Mrs. Rogers would have minded."

Libby arched an eyebrow at her brother. "You must be terrible at giving directions then. You two were chatting an awfully long time."

Bucky just grinned. He knew that now wasn't the time to reveal that he was going out dancing with the lady later in the week. Instead, he looked at Steve and smiled sympathetically at him. "How you holding up?" Bucky asked.

"I'm fine, Buck," Steve said shoving his hands in his pants pockets. His tone was a little clipped. He had probably just heard that sentiment dozens of times from those he had just thanked for coming and was a little annoyed it was coming from his best friend. Steve sighed and muttered an apology under his breath. Bucky patted Steve's shoulder. Mr. Barnes patted Steve's other shoulder. Like father, like son.

"Let us take you to the cemetery, son," Mr. Barnes said softly.

"I appreciate the offer, Mr. Barnes, I really do. But I could use some fresh air and a walk would do me good," Steve responded.

"If you're sure, son."

"I am."

Mrs. Barnes walked up to him and smoothed the lapels of his coat. "Will we see you for dinner?" she asked making eye contact with him.

Steve looked a little uncomfortable. While Mrs. Barnes's intentions were good, they seemed a bit suffocating. Libby then intervened. "Mother, how about Steve comes tomorrow so we can make his favorite meal?" Steve looked at Libby and his eyes shown volumes of thankfulness.

"That's an excellent idea, Elizabeth," Mrs. Barnes said.

"Except the part about Libby cooking it," Bucky teased.

Mrs. Barnes shot Bucky a look that wiped the smile from his face and his stance straightened. She didn't mind Bucky teasing his sister at home, but it was hardly appropriate in public. She would certainly have some words for him later.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," Steve said to the Barnes family. "Thank you for coming. I appreciate it and I know Mom would too." He shook Mr. Barnes's hand. Mrs. Barnes hugged him, which he hadn't expected. Steve nodded in Bucky and Libby's direction and then started to walk away.

Libby pulled her outer layer a little closer to her body as she watched Steve walk away. He looked a little deflated. Today had been hard for him and he still had to bury his mother. Libby sighed.

"Elizabeth," her mother hissed.

Libby's gaze turned toward her mother who was not so subtly nodding her head in Steve's direction. Libby's brow furrowed as her mother continued the gesture. Mrs. Barnes sighed. "Elizabeth, go with him."

Libby looked at Bucky and then pointed to herself in disbelief. "Me?" she squeaked.

Mrs. Barnes looked at her daughter incredulously and rolled her eyes, a sight Libby had rarely ever seen from her mother. "Your temperament is better suited for him right now," she said as she looked at Bucky.

Bucky took a moment to understand his mother's words. By the time he fully understood what his mother was saying, Libby was already running after Steve. She didn't need to be told again.

Libby's hat nearly flew off her head as she ran after Steve. So, she ripped it from her head and carried it in her hands until she reached Steve. Steve jumped when he noticed that Libby was beside him, a little out of breath. Libby would have laughed at his reaction had she not been trying to breathe.

"What are you doing here?" Steve questioned.

"I thought it obvious," Libby retorted.

Steve stopped walking. "Libby, go back with your family, please."

"You really think you can get rid of me that easily?" Libby ran her gloved hands through her now unkempt hair, trying to smooth it back into submission. With a puff of air, she blew a stray tendril out of her face.

"Libby."

"Steve."

Steve shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at her sternly. "I can do this on my own."

"But you don't have to." Libby looked him straight in the eye, her warm brown eyes trying to tell him what she couldn't voice. "Now, if you'd prefer, I can follow behind from a distance. You won't even know I'm there unless you want me to make myself known. Either way, I'm going with you." Not wanting to appear too brazen in front of him, she tacked on, "Mostly because my mother scares me more than you do."

Steve leaned his head back and then nodded knowingly. He knew how Mrs. Barnes could be. He had a feeling that Mrs. Barnes had a streak very similar to Libby's in her younger years. Not that he would ever ask her such a thing. Steve sighed. "Alright, you can come. But mostly because your mother scares me more than you do."

Libby smiled at him. She placed her hat back on top of her head and they began to walk through Brooklyn toward the cemetery where Sarah Rogers was to be buried. Neither Steve nor Libby said a word as they walked. They simply walked in a comfortable silence together. As opposed as he had seemed to the idea, he really was glad Libby had taken it upon herself to be there for him. He really appreciated having a friend there.

Once they reached the cemetery, Steve and Libby walked silently under the wrought iron arched entrance. Steve knew where to go. His mother was to be buried beside his father. Steve usually went to the cemetery by himself or with his mother. He had never taken someone besides his mother with him, until now. Steve gently rested his hand on Libby's elbow to guide her to the gravesite.

Libby silently stood beside him as he watched his mother's casket was lowered into the ground. She gently took his hand and held it, silently becoming his strength as he tried to keep himself from weeping. He held tightly onto her hand as the preacher spoke the heart-wrenching words. "We, therefore, commit this body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life, through our Lord Christ Jesus."

Steve shook, despite the fact that Libby held fast to him. The preacher looked at Steve sympathetically. "Go on, son," the preacher said nodding toward the pile of dirt.

He inhaled sharply. Libby gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Steve, still holding onto her hand, bent down and grasped a handful of dirt with his free hand. Slowly, he let the dirt trickle from his fisted hand and onto his mother's casket. When there was no more dirt in his hand, he slowly dropped his hand back to his side. Still holding onto her hand, Libby wrapped her free hand around his arm to try and steady his shaking.

The preacher said one last prayer before he excused himself. He patted Steve on the shoulder before he walked away. The undertakers walked away as well, leaving Libby and Steve were alone at the gravesite. Steve still shook, trying to hold in all his emotions. Libby looked at him, her eyes pricking with tears just watching him.

"It's okay," she breathed. Her words weren't meant in an everything is going to be okay from now on sense. No, she meant them in an it's okay to show some weakness sense. She knew Steve rarely liked to show weakness because most people already perceived him as weak. But for reasons beyond his understanding, he knew that Libby never saw him that way.

Steve glanced at her, tears beginning to slip down his cheeks. He understood what she had meant by her words. A few seconds later, Steve fell to his knees and began to bitterly sob at his mother's graveside. Without thinking of propriety or her dress and stockings, Libby knelt on the grass beside Steve. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and let him cry on her shoulder. Steve clung to her. He didn't regret bringing her with him. He needed her more than he thought he did.

When Steve pulled away, Libby was ready with her handkerchief to wipe his cheeks. Surprisingly, he sat very still as she did so, his eyes still glistening. As Libby put her handkerchief back in her pocket, Steve stood to his feet. He then reached out his hand to help Libby up. She accepted his hand and stood once more. Steve turned toward his mother's grave and said one last goodbye before he and Libby left in silence. Words were not needed between them.

Author's Note: I had too many thoughts for October 1936 so here's another chapter! I really wanted to show more of Libby and Steve and how Libby already supports him. There will be a few more chapters before I get to the time of the first Captain America movie. Some times that will likely (but not for sure) to be included 1939 when The Wizard of Oz comes to theaters, 1941- May 25th, Dodgers game & December 7th/8th - Pearl Harbor/FDR speech. Are there any others you would be interested in seeing? (No guarantees, but I'm willing to listen)

My beta is on vacation, so I posted this without nixdragon looking it over. I apologize for any errors. They are mine. One can only look at their work over so many times before their mind turns to mush.

A huge thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and followed. Your encouragement means a lot to me!

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