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Overhead the sky was leaden, but the clouds refused to burst open, no matter how Gail prayed for it to scatter the spectators. She kept her face lowered, one arm wrapped around her stomach as James led her through the crowd. If she met anyone's eyes she would scream at them to go, and take their false mourning and pretenses with them, and she wouldn't do that to Steve. He would want her to be strong.
In front of them, the pallbearers did their duty, step by solemn step, as they carried the empty casket to the hearse. The man who should have occupied it had been lost somewhere in the ice and cold, where only God could find him. No flowers, no gilt graced the coffin, only a simple flag. It was maybe the only part of the entire funeral that didn't reek of grandstanding, but only she and James seemed to recognize the play for what it was. The crowd was silent as the coffin passed, heads bowed and hats off, lining the street ten deep. They'd come to say goodbye, to witness, to say I was there when their grandchildren asked about the death of Captain America.
Not one of the people lining the streets cared about Steve Rogers. They didn't know the man who'd danced with her on his last night in the States, or who had given her a bedraggled daisy when they'd started courting and had somehow brought James along on their first date. None of them could know that he loved apples in summertime, or that the back of his neck burned in the sun while his arms tanned. They were there for the death of a legend, not a man.
She hated them all, from the littlest child to the oldest grandfather, the journalists and the generals. They'd made Steve into something more than human, and they'd taken him from her to do so. Now, he would belong to them forever and she'd never have even a piece of him back. He'd be Captain America forever, and Steve Rogers was dead.
James helped her into the sleek black car that would take her to Arlington National Cemetery. Gail leaned into James when he settled next to her, grateful for everything he had to give when the loss cut him just as deep. He looked strong and grown up in his dress greens. As far as Gail knew, he hadn't cried either. She wouldn't have blamed him if he had.
He'd loved Steve too.
The sky rumbled as the storm finally broke, sending the mass of people running for shelter. Safe inside the car, the only two people who were there for Steven Rogers linked hands, and the sky wept for them.