Steve’s vision began to blur, the people he loved stretching further away from him, like he was looking down the wrong end of a telescope.
“Steve,” Nat sobbed, gripping his hand like a vice, “please don’t go.”
He could barely feel the pain anymore, everything seemed numb, and quiet, despite the chaos that lay around him, the grief that he could feel from his friends. He could just make out Bucky on his left, Nat on his right with Tony, who was trying to contain his tears.
“I’m with you, Steve,” Bucky whispered, “’til the end of the line.”
That was the last thing he remembered before he blacked out- or did he really black out? It felt more like fading, moving somewhere else, leaving his friends behind. He was so tired, so exhausted by everything, that he just let himself be pulled away.
He drifted…. drifted…. and… woke up?
No. Again, everything felt different, the way someone feels when they know that they’re dreaming but stay asleep. He took in his surroundings. He was in a dimly lit room, quiet. Was it a ballroom? A dance hall? Small circular tables lined one side of the room, spotless cream table cloths, exquisitely ironed and embroidered, draping down over the sides. The floor had that shiny, slippy look after too much dancing, polished over and over again. Deep red drapes hung on the walls between small marbled pillars.
He looked down at himself. He was Steve again, the same body and appearance, but he was wearing his old army uniform from the 40s, the one that he’d always wanted to wear so badly before signing up. Olive green, starched and pressed, worn with pride. He felt the weight of several medals on his lapel and across his chest. His hair was smoothed to the left, the way he used to style it, and he could smell the scent of his old aftershave on his cleanly-shaven face. There was some 40s music playing somewhere, but he couldn’t identify the source of the sound, only that it brought back a wave of memories from his days before Captain America.
Was he dreaming? Was this the afterlife? Just another version of the world he had left? He didn’t doubt that he was dead, he had felt the shift between the world he had been trying to save, and wherever he was now. He felt a stab of sadness at never seeing his friends again, but he knew they would understand. His sacrifice had saved billions of lives.
He heard something. The quiet tap of heels on the floor, from somewhere to his right, cloaked in shadow, not lit by candlelight like the opposite side of the room. He strained his eyes to see what or who it was, walking slowly towards the sound.
“You’re late…”
Peggy Carter stepped out of the shadows, not a day older than when he’d left her in 1945. She reached out a soft hand, her nails painted immaculately in the same deep red that she had always favoured.
Steve’s stomach dropped when he saw her. He took in her shiny, curled hair, her rose red lips, and the beautiful sapphire blue dress that swept over her curves to her knees, cut in a low, curved neckline.
“Peg, I-” Steve swallowed, overcome by a tidal wave of emotions. He cleared his throat and blinked away the steadily rising tears in his eyes.
“You owe me a dance.” She said softly, her voice like silk.
“Well I don’t want to keep my best girl waiting.” He replied, slowly taking her hands in his own and stepping back into the centre of the floor.
Steve placed a hand on Peggy’s waist. He kept hold of her other hand, not sure he could bring himself to break the contact between them that he had craved for so long. She traced little circles on his skin with her fingers, leaning into his shoulder like it was home.
“I’ve missed you so much, Peg.” He said, breathing in the distinctly feminine scent of her hair, unable to place it completely.
“And I you.” She replied, looking into his eyes. “It’s been so long.”
She reached up to stroke his cheek, brushing away a tear he hadn’t even realised had fallen. Her own eyes- not just deep brown as he had previously thought, but lighter, with flecks of amber and caramel and olive- brimmed with moisture too.
They fell in step with the music, lilting and swaying and dancing slowly around the room, content with holding one another close and making up for decades of lost time.
They spoke in hushed voices, not anything in particular, for a while. Eventually Steve said:
“I heard you had a wonderful life, Peg. I’m so proud.”
“You’re not angry?” She answered, her brow furrowed. “That I moved on, fell in love again, had my own family?”
“No.” He said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Part of me wishes I had had the chance at a life with you, but I would have felt worse if you’d held onto me forever, and not lived.”
“It took me so long, to accept that you were truly gone. And all that time, you were lying in the ice. If only I’d made them keep looking, not given up-”
“Shh.” Steve said, his eyes big and sad. “Don’t.”
“I never forgot you, Steve, never. I founded S.H.I.E.L.D. with the same principles we both stood for.”
“I know, and I’m so happy you did.”
“I’m equally proud of you, Steve. You were the one good thing to come out of the Super Soldier experiment, and you always held onto your morals. I know the last few years have been incredibly hard for you, but you’ve done so well, so well.” Her voice was thick with emotion.
She smiled, though it was filled with nostalgia. “I never stopped loving you, you know that, don’t you? Even though I truly was happy with my husband and family.”
“I know. I feel the same way.”
They had slowed to a stop. Steve cupped a hand under Peggy’s chin, lifting her face to his. She gave an almost imperceptible nod as she read the question in his eyes. Her eyes fluttered shut as her lips brushed his, and the years separating them fell away.
Several long moments later, Peggy shifted her forehead to his, breathing deeply. She realised that their cheeks were wet, their salty tears having mixed together like watercolours; once combined, never separated.
“Steve?” She breathed.
“Yes?”
“I think it’s time to go.”
He felt a deep tug in his chest, a strange mixture of nerves, anticipation, regret and sadness. He really was moving on. He nodded, looking at her.
“Ok.” He hesitated, but Peggy, seeming to understand what he was thinking, replied:
“Don’t worry, you’re almost there. Just keep hold of me, just hold me...”
Steve reached for her hands, their heads still inclined towards each other, realising that he was shaking a little.
“We have to stop saying goodbye like this.” He said, trying to conceal his fear- though his voice audibly trembled.
“This isn’t goodbye, Steve, never... Now close your eyes… I’m right here.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, then slowly shut his eyes. A similar sensation to when he left Earth came over him; his body felt heavy, a thick, warm, cloak-like feeling wrapped around him, and he felt himself being pulled away.
The last thing Steve could grasp remembering was Peggy’s voice, a quiet whisper that said, “I’m so glad I found the right partner.”, and then, who knows...?