If you want more, let me know in comments that you'd like to use your prompt! I'll keep track on the wordcount end, never fear. :) <3
She couldn't help but notice how he almost never said his last name, after that. He'd say he was Steve, or sometimes Steven, and he'd answer when the professor called out, "Mr Rogers," to him, but the two names hardly ever went together, not if he could help it. Rosie took that to mean he didn't much want to talk about who he'd been during the war, and since her pop had only ever talked about his time in the Great War after Rosie'd gone and killed a man—well, a vampire—she didn't reckon pushing Steve about something he didn't want to talk about was the right thing to do. So she didn't, even if sometimes it meant nearly biting her tongue clean off to keep from asking.
The thing was everybody kinda knew what had happened. Kinda, at least. How he'd fought the Nazis and everything, of course, and how one of their crazy leaders had almost launched a successful attack on New York. Irene, who was from the Big Apple just like Steve was, had spent almost six weeks at home after that, trying to wrap her head around the idea that it and everybody she loved there had almost been...gone. Anyways, point was, the story went that Steve Rogers had fought the bad guy—he had a crazy name, the Red Skull, and Rosie never thought he was real until she sat down beside Captain America in her art class—but the plane carrying the bombs had taken off while they fought.
British code-breaker and military liaison Margaret Elizabeth Carter—Agent Peggy Carter—had been on that plane when it took off, and the whole world had listened to the broadcast of her last conversation with Steve Rogers before she buried the plane in the ice, and saved America.
Rosie didn't figure she'd want to talk about it, either.