keire-ke:

Answering separately, because I KNOW, RIGHT?

Bucky’s poster at the exhibit is adorable – “in an ironic twist of fate, his prison camp was liberated by none other than his childhood friend, Steve Rogers, now Captain America.” It almost makes it sound like they knew each other briefly in middle school, then lost touch and, years later, Steve just happened to be liberating the right place at the right time, which, wow, really makes you think, if that’s the history the world remembered.

There have to be some reports, perhaps Howard kept notes? He was around in the weapons’ division, perhaps he wanted something more substantial than “Cap shot a guy and the gun you made broke.”

“Excuse you, my guns don’t break.”

“Okay, Cap ran out of bullets and he started using it as a club, and then the Kraut mentioned Sarge, so he had a wee little accident? On the plus side, Cap managed to dent a tank with it, I mean eventually, so job well done?”

And Howard just stares at the submachine gun he lovingly put together for maximum accuracy and minimum kickback and picks up a bloodied half of it through a napkin and says “A==>ha.”

Peggy just looks at it and jots it down as “lost to self-inflicted friendly fire.” Philips doesn’t even bother, at that point, just signs Rogers’ weapons requisition forms in blanco. It’s faster, cheaper, and easier on his ulcers.