Hi guys. So this isn't my usual kind of story and I'm extremely nervous about publishing it, but I figured why not. I hope you enjoy it. It kind of got away from me.

Peggy is dead. Three words Steve hasn't been able to say aloud. Three words Steve has refused to accept. Three words that brought Steve's world crashing down around him the minute he heard them. Peggy Carter is dead. His Peggy Carter is dead. The love of his life is dead, and he just doesn't know how to accept it. He can't acknowledge the fact that she is gone, he doesn't think he ever will.

He sits beside her tombstone, his legs crossed in front of him as he pulls out any dead grass that surrounds her. He does it everyday, for most of the day, because he has nowhere else to go, and there's nowhere else he wants to go. His blond hair is unkempt and sticking out in a million different directions. He can't remember the last time he actually washed it. Since he heard she had died, he's been getting into the shower, and and just standing there aimlessly until the water grows cold. Then he just stands there in the cold water until he is able to bring himself out of the trance he seems to find himself in so often.

It's been a week, but the pain is as raw and as hurtful as it was the day she died. He talks to her, and only her, because he doesn't want to talk to anyone else. Not Natasha or Tony or Bruce or Clint or Thor or Nick. He doesn't want to speak to anyone because they're not Peggy. They will never be Peggy, and, for some illogical and unexplainable reason, he resents them for that. "Hey, Peg. How are you?" Steve asks, and he pauses and waits for an answer he knows will never come. "I'm not so good." He says, and he shoves the pile of dead grass to the side.

A single red rose lies in his lap. He picks it up and spins it between his forefinger and thumb as he checks the petals. He wants them to be unmarked, the rose needs to be unmarked, it needs to be perfect because Peggy was perfect. Then, he places it beside the slowly wilting roses he's been placing there every day for a week. "You'll never guess what happened today." Steve says, willing the tears in his eyes to go away. He wipes brown leaves off her tombstone. It's a simple, elegant marble tombstone, just like she would have wanted. "I..." Steve trails off, unable to finish the sentence. He clears his throat and wipes the tears from his cheeks furiously before saying, "I went back to your place, to visit you. I forgot you're..." He trails off again. He can't say the word, because saying it would be like accepting it. So, he never says 'dead' because he can't and he doesn't want to.

"And you know what, Peggy? It took me walking all the way to your room to even realize that you're not there anymore." Steve continues, and he can't hold in the sob that's been threatening to spill since the first day he heard. The day the ground beneath his feet cracked and fell away, and everything he thought he knew was torn away, and he was left floating aimlessly without direction. People say it gets better with time, but it was only getting worse with time. Each passing moment was a reminder that Steve wasn't ever going to see Peggy again.

"Is this what it was like for you, Peg?" Steve asks, composing himself. "When I crashed into that ice and you thought I was gone. Is this what it felt like for you? Because if it is, I need to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Steve takes a shaky breath, and stares at the name on the tombstone. 'Margaret 'Peggy' Carter'. The one that he fell for the minute he saw her long, flowing brown-black hair, and bright red lips, and welcoming smile. The minute he saw her swing and hit the guy who taunted her on his first day in the army. And it had only grown into a deeper love every time he saw her. She became more beautiful, inside and out, more complex, yet simpler at the same time.

"God, Peg. I wish you were still here. I need you. I really, really need you. I have always needed you. And I have always loved you." Steve says, and he settles beside her and stares at the sky above him, wondering whether Peggy is up there now, and whether she's looking down on him like he's looking up on her.

"You're from Brooklyn." Peggy says, and she smiles at Steve with such kindness that Steve feels his cheeks flush pink.

"Yes, ma'am." He replies. He's immediately taken by her, even though she's taller than him, and probably stronger than him, and even though he knows she's not attracted to him. How could she be? He's just a scrawny little kid from Brooklyn who spent the first two decades of his life sick almost everyday, or getting beat up in alleyways. He stands as straight as he can, and puffs his chest out as much as possible, because he wants to make a good impression. She's standing straight and her hands are held behind her back, but she's got a calm and relaxed aura about her that makes Steve feel more at ease than he ever has since he joined the army.

"You're not quite the usual volunteer." She states, but her voice is filled with genuine interest. She's not being condescending or belittling, and she's not being rude or mean. She's stating a fact, just like she would with anyone else, and Steve doesn't take offense because she didn't intend offense. He just smiles and shrugs, and she smiles back. He feels almost giddy that she's talking to him, out of everyone standing around him, she's talking to him, and he feels privileged.

"No, ma'am, I'm not. But, I intend to contribute just as much as every other soldier who stands beside me. I won't disappoint you, ma'am." Steve says. It's the first time they're talking, and he tries to make himself sound confident, even though he's almost trembling nervously because he's talking to the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. It's kind of like the feeling one gets when they're asked out by their crush in elementary school, only intensified. He swallows nervously and tries his hardest to keep eye contact with her, but he suddenly feels nervous and unsure of himself.

"I know you won't disappoint me, soldier. I expect big things from you. Dynamite comes in small packages. And I expect nothing less." Peggy says, and she smiles one last time before turning and walking away as Steve salutes her. He stands by himself and watches her walk away, and tells himself that he won't let her down. Dynamite comes in small packages.

Steve wakes up at noon one day, and he just can't bring himself to get dressed. He wants to go visit Peggy, but he feels like he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders, and he just can't bring himself to get out of bed. He lies on his back, and stares at the ceiling, and he covers his eyes with his hands as tears threaten to spill. "I'm sorry, Peg." He whispers as he turns so he's lying on his stomach. Someone knocks on his front door, but he ignores it. The knocking is persistent, but Steve just doesn't want to answer, so doesn't. Then, the knocking stops, and Steve groans in relief.

Then he hears the door swing open, and, even if only for a second, his instincts kick in and he leaps out of bed. He doesn't know who's in his apartment, he just knows that whoever the hell they are, he wants them out. He wants to be alone. He waits on the edge of the bed as he hears light footsteps make their way to his room. Then, Clint pops his head round the corner of Steve's door and peers into the room. It's dark and the curtains are closed, and Steve's dirty clothes lay strewn out across the floor, and his bed is a mess, and there's a broken vase that's still shattered across the floor by the wall. "Shit, Rogers." Clint states, a hint of playfulness in his voice, but mostly it's just pity.

Steve groans and falls back into his bed and covers his eyes with his forearm as Clint opens the curtains. "Go away, please." Steve begs, but Clint ignores him and sits on the edge of Steve bed. He's holding a bag of takeaway in his right hand and a cup of coffee in his other hand. "Please," Steve repeats, but Clint remains firmly planted on Steve's bed.

He shakes his head and places the takeaway on Steve's bedside table. Steve sits up in bed, and he's suddenly aware that all he's got on is boxers. He pulls the duvet over himself quickly, and blushes in embarrassment. "Steve, it's been a week and a half, man." Clint says. Steve glances at him, but his gaze quickly darts over to the floor where it remains. He can't look Clint in the eye, he doesn't want to see the pity or the sympathy. He just wants to be left alone. "You need to get out, and not on a mission, I mean out out. Like, for lunch or something." Clint continues, attempting to smile.

"I just don't feel like it." Steve says simply, unwilling to offer any further explanation. He knows Clint is trying to help, and he appreciates it, but he doesn't want the help. All he wants is some time to work through it by himself, and to come to terms with it. But, he also needs time to accept what's really bothering him. The love of his life is dead, and that's killing him inside out, but there's something else that's killing him, he just can't put his finger on it. "You don't get it." Steve says. Silently adding, neither do I.

"Just one lunch. Please, Rogers. For me." Clint says, jokingly puckering his lips and making kissy noises. Steve cracks a smile, though it's forced and it feels almost foreign on his lips. Then he sighs and gets out of bed. He feels like he weighs a million tons, he feels like it's too difficult to accomplish anything. Clint busies himself with making Steve's bed while Steve sits in the bathroom and forces himself to put on a happy front, just for the day, just for Clint. He gets ready, slowly, and he goes out for lunch with Clint. He forces himself to eat, and he even stays at the restaurant after Clint goes home.

Steve only gets back to his apartment at midnight, beat up and hurting inside and out.

"Come one Rogers, you can do it." Peggy screams from the sidelines as Steve attempts yet another grueling obstacle course designed to separate the boys from the men. He's tired and his lungs hurt, and he's getting fed up with always lagging behind, but no matter how hard he pushes, he just can't seem to keep up with his fellow soldiers. But, Peggy still supports him, and he can see it's getting annoying for the other soldiers that she's supporting him and not them. She seems to genuinely like him, which is really a first for him. The only other friend he's got is Bucky.

Steve scrambles through the mud and barbed wire and logs, and after a long time and a lot of effort, he emerges on the other side. He almost collapses with relief and exhaustion, but he keeps himself up because he doesn't want to embarrass himself in front of the other soldiers. He needs to prove that he's just as good as them, even though he has to try harder. He glances at Peggy, and she smiles, though it's barely noticeable. She's beautiful, and Steve really likes her, he is smitten with her, but he knows she doesn't feel the same. But he doesn't mind. At least she notices him.

Steve is the last one to complete the course, and as soon as he's done, the other soldiers begin their jog. He jogs behind them, panting and sweating so much it's blurring his vision. But, he never loses them, because he needs to pass the physical, he needs to show everyone that he's good enough to fight for his country. He wonders what his mom would say if she was alive. She would probably be standing right beside Peggy, cheering him on and crying proudly. His gaze travels from the ground to the heads in front of him, bopping up and down in almost perfect sync. Then he glances over his shoulder where Peggy is talking to other commanding officers and generals. She catches him watching her, and she nods ever so slightly.

Steve nods back to her emphatically.

By the end of the jog, everyone is puffing and panting and desperately gulping down water, but Steve can hardly breathe. His lungs and throat are constricting and he can't suck in enough air and he's feeling light headed and he's seeing dots. He collapses to the floor, but none of the other soldiers notice, and he gasps for air. His eyes are watering, not because he's crying, but because he's panicked and he's running out of oxygen. He knows that if Bucky were there with him, he would know exactly how to calm Steve down. But Bucky was fighting for America, just like Steve wanted to do so desperately. That's why he needed to prove himself. Not just for Peggy, or Bucky, but for himself, too.

Then, a warm hand gently holds his shoulder, and he flinches at the contact, thinking it's one of the soldiers there to taunt him. But as he turns to face whoever is holding onto his shoulder, his blue eyes meet those kind brown eyes. And he smiles despite his panic and pain. It's Peggy. She squeezes his shoulder, and kneels beside him and hands him a bottle of water. He takes it gratefully and gulps it down, and it quenches his thirst but he still can't breathe. "Thanks," he pants.

Peggy nods and says, "Rogers, take a deep breath for me. One deep breath." Steve hesitates, but as she nods encouragingly, he does what she says. He's blushing with embarrassment because he looks so weak in front of her, but he has a strange feeling that she doesn't care. He draws in a ragged breath. "Hold it." She says. He holds it for a second or two, all the while keeping eye contact with Peggy, and all the while grateful for her steadying hold on his shoulder. "Good, now release." She says. Steve nods and releases the breath he was holding. He feels a little better, but not much. His asthma is playing up. "Again." She says.

She stays by his side for five whole minutes as she coaches him through it. He breathes in, holds it, and breathes out at her command. Slowly but surely, he starts relaxing, his lungs open up and he's able to breathe again. Then, Peggy hands him the water bottle and he downs the rest of the water quickly. "Thank you, ma'am." Steve says, still slightly embarrassed. Peggy dismisses it with a wave of her thin hand and stands up. Steve struggles to his feet and salutes her out of respect. She smiles that beautiful smile again, and salutes him back.

"Don't mention it, Rogers. You did well out there, today." She says, and she walks back to the vehicle confidently. He watches her walk away, and watches the vehicle drive off back to base in a cloud of sand and dust.

"Okay, girls. Back on your feet. We're running the course again."

Steve walks down the street at midnight, and he's been out since he went for lunch with Clint. He's been drinking, a lot, but he's not drunk. How could he be? The serum took that away from him. So, he walks down the street practically sober, just staring at the sidewalk ahead of him as he remembers all the moments he shared with Peggy before the serum. She genuinely cared about him and believed in him when no one else but Bucky did. She had faith in him when she had no reason to, and he will never forget that. And it was because of that that her death was so much harder for Steve. He misses her so much it genuinely hurts.

He walks past the umpteenth alleyway that night, but this time it's not empty. It's filled with a gang of about seven boys. They're all drunk, all bulky. All brawn, no brains. They eye Steve carefully, but don't recognize him as Captain America. No one does. He's wearing a cap thats pulled low down, and he's grown stubble simply because he couldn't be bothered to shave. Then, one guy walks out in front of Steve and holds his hand out and places it against Steve's chest. Steve stops walking and stares the guy in the eyes. The guy's green eyes dance with anticipation, and soon enough his friends surround him. They're all wearing football jerseys from the local college. "Take your hand off me." Steve says softly.

Usually he would walk straight past the guys without letting them get to him. But he's so angry, and so sad, and hurting so much that he can't control himself, and he rises to the bait. All the anger and hatred he's feeling is redirected towards the guy with his hand on Steve's chest. Anger at Peggy for leaving him, angry at himself for leaving her seventy years ago, anger at the world for taking her. Anger because he never got to live his life with her, and that's all he really wanted. He would trade anything to be able to be with her. But she's gone and he needs to accept that, he just can't.

"Oh, think you're so tough? Well, you're not. Seven against one? No brainer, bro." The middle guy says. He's smiling excitedly, and he's rubbing his hands together in anticipation. Steve knows he's going to end up fighting them no matter what he does, so he accepts it. He shrugs.

"You guys just looking forward to a fight, huh? Seem like a good idea when you're drunk? Walk away, please." Steve asks, and he stands straight. They're all taller than him, and almost as strong. But he allows himself to be lured into a fight anyway. Pain and anger and grief cloud his logic, and he's acting irrationally, acting like he never usually would. "Back down, now. This is your last chance." Steve says. He can almost hear Peggy reprimanding him, telling him to walk away, not to do it. And suddenly he's furious. Peggy left him. She left him. A hard punch to his stomach leaves him breathless, and a second punch to his cheek dazes him. He tries to stay calm, but his thoughts are jumbled and he's consumed by grief. And, he suddenly swings out without thinking. His fist connects solidly with the middle guy's jaw, and the guy goes sprawling across the sidewalk. Steve stares at the downed man in shock, and he offers his hand as he mutters, "I'm so sorry." But the man doesn't accept Steve's offer of help.

An unexpected fist connects with Steve's face and he hears his nose crack, but he doesn't feel the pain, and he doesn't even notice the blood that's suddenly pouring out of his nose and down his chest and onto his white shirt. He turns quickly and his elbow hits the guy who broke his nose in the stomach. The guy doubles over in pain, and Steve almost finishes him off with an uppercut to the jaw, but a sudden stabbing pain in his chest makes him double over himself. Another hit to the chest breaks one of his ribs, and he cries out and kicks out at the same time. His foot connects with the guy's shin, and he topples over and cries out in agony as his skull hits the concrete. Rage boils inside of Steve, and he's seeing red.

He can hear Peggy telling him to stop, telling him to walk away. He screams, "You want me to leave like you did?" He's talking to Peggy, but she's not there. He can still hear her begging him to stop, to realize what he's doing, but he ignores her as he sees another guy rush up to him and attempt to down him with a hard left hook. But Steve catches his fist and twists it until the guy begs him to release him. Steve lets him go and watches as the guy sinks to the floor, clutching his left wrist in his right hand. Steve stares at the man in shock, and he feels ashamed of himself. It almost brings him out of his trance. But another hit to the stomach makes him see red again.

Someone hits Steve over the head, and he sees stars for a moment before he realizes he's bleeding and small shards of glass are stuck in his temple. He spins on his heels and hits the guy across the cheek, and the guy falls to the floor unconscious. Five down, two to go. Peggy's screaming is getting louder, but it's not real, and that makes Steve angrier.

Another punch to the chest has Steve panting in agony, but he quickly sweeps the guy's legs out from underneath him, and the guy falls to the floor with a thud. Six down, one to go. But the last one cowers away, and he begs Steve not to hurt him. That cuts into Steve. "What have I done?" He whispers. He looks around and sees what he's done, and he's disgusted with himself. He's Captain America, he's supposed to protect people, not hurt them. He's absolutely disgusted, and, for a long time, he stares at the pained or unconscious figures on the floor, then he calls an ambulance using the pay-phone across the road before he turns on his heels and sprints home. He can hear Peggy telling him that he was wrong, that he shouldn't have done that, that he's supposed to protect not hurt.

"Shut up!" He yells.

Once he's in his apartment, he sinks to the floor and sobs. He's curled up in a corner, bleeding, and bruising, and hurting, and he sobs. He sobs because of what he did, he sobs because he misses Peggy so fucking much it hurts. It takes him a long time to realize that her voice was only his subconscious, it wasn't real, and that he imagined her talking to him. It's only then that he realizes that she's dead. It really sinks in. The only time he will ever hear her voice again will be in his memories.

Steve just got the flag from the pole, and he's riding back to base in the same vehicle as Peggy. He's sweating and panting. Peggy turns and faces him and says, "Good job, Rogers."

Steve turns to face her and smiles proudly. He blushes slightly, but he keeps eye contact. "Thank you, ma'am." He replies.

Peggy watches him for a moment before she licks her lips, not suggestively, almost nervously, and says, "You're a lot better than people give you credit for, Rogers." She says it innocently, once again just stating something she has observed, and once again leaving her intention open ended. Steve gulps nervously and smiles. He doesn't know what to say. His heart is going a thousand miles an hour, he's nervous, he's watching the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, and she's complimenting him. For a long time, they ride in silence as they look at each other. But it's not awkward.

"Not really," Steve says, shrugging. Peggy's brows knit together in confusion. She says nothing. Steve adds, "I'm not exactly a top notch soldier. I have a lot of problems, and I'm not as fast or as strong as the others. But I want to be here, and that counts for something."

"It counts for everything, Steve." Peggy says, and Steve's heart skips a beat. She called him Steve. She stumbles over her words as she realizes what she called him, but she quickly composes herself and continues. "Don't discount yourself, Steve." This time, she calls him by his first name purposefully, and Steve can't help the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. "You have a lot more to offer than you think."

She gently taps his hand with her own, and Steve sits speechlessly as she turns and faces the front again. The remaining feel of her soft, warm hand on his remains the entire ride back to base as he stares at it, dumbfounded.

Steve wakes up the next morning in his bed at quarter past five. His entire body aches, and his chest hurts so much that it's painful to breathe. His nose is blocked with clotted blood and swelling, and his entire face aches. He can feel the dry blood on his face, and he can see flakes of it on his bed. He can't remember getting to bed last night. But, for the first time in a while, he feels something other than grief for losing Peggy. Granted, it's only physical pain, but he prefers it to the soul consuming pain of loss. He slowly gets out of bed, grunting as sharp waves of pain roll through his chest and stomach. Then he sees the photograph of Peggy beside his bed, in her uniform, and it all crashes down on him again.

Guilt. It's overwhelms him. Guilt for hurting those men last night, guilt for leaving Peggy alone for seventy years, guilt for not being strong enough to cope with the grief. He's weak and he knows it. But he feels like when Peggy died, a part of him died, too. And that's when he realizes it. That nagging that he couldn't put his finger on before, he's realized what it is. Peggy died, and not only did the love of his life die, not only did a part of him die, but the only thing that really remained of his past died. All ties are cut, and he can't bear to think about it. Peggy's gone, and it feels like a part of him is gone. Bucky isn't the Bucky Steve grew up with. He wants Steve dead. Peggy is dead. His old life is dead.

Then, he hears footsteps on the wooden flooring, and he jumps to his feet only to fall back down in agony as the motion sends daggers through his chest. Then, Natasha turns around the doorframe and steps into his room. She looks angry, but she also looks upset. Upset for Steve, sympathizing with him. Pity. He hates the pity. She watches him as he sits up again. He's shirtless, and horrible bruising covers the right side of his chest, his nose is black and blue and swollen, and his entire face is covered in blood. Natasha doesn't walk closer to him. She simply crosses her arms and leans back against the wall. Steve watches her, too embarrassed and ashamed to speak.

"You need to stop this, Steve. I'm serious. You know how I found you last night?" Natasha says, pointing out the doorway as Steve follows the direction of her finger. She's pointing to his lounge. He tries to answer, but she interrupts him. "No, shut up. I found you in the corner of your room, covered in blood, and crying, and beat up." Natasha yells, and Steve flinches. He's upset with himself for allowing himself to break apart like he has. And he's upset with himself for hurting those men. And he's upset with Peggy for leaving him. "She's gone, Steve. She's dead and you need to accept that." Natasha adds as she leans down in front of him, and places her small hands on his knees.

Steve looks at her for a long time, then he gazes at the photograph of Peggy, and he feels like the ground beneath his feet has been pulled out from under him again. He's lost and alone without Peggy. No Peggy. No Bucky. No past. "She's dead," he says, and he swallows the lump in his throat. "Peggy is dead." It's the first time he's said it out loud, and it opens up raw wounds. Suddenly the pain is as intense as the first day again, even worse. He's acknowledged the fact that she's dead, and he feels like he has no anchor. She's gone.

"I know." Natasha says, and she envelopes him in a tight embrace. She holds him tight, even though it hurts him, and even though he tries to push away. His head rests against her chest and her arms are wrapped around his upper body. "And I'm sorry." She whispers in his ear, but he doesn't hear her. "But you need to move on. You have to."

Steve scrambles to his feet and stares at the dud grenade on the ground in front of him. He looks up and he sees Peggy running towards him. He frowns in confusion. It was a dud. It was a test. But Peggy looks just as surprised and confused as he does. She finally reaches him and she places a hand on his shoulder. He salutes her, and smiles. She doesn't smile back. She swallows nervously and says, "Steve, I thought you were going to die. I almost had a heart attack."

Steve doesn't know how to reply. He's overwhelmed with the fact that someone cares about him. Genuinely cares about him. Peggy likes him and respects him despite how small he is, despite how weak he is, despite how inferior he is. She likes him and cares for him, and that's something he's never really experienced. He tries to stop himself from smiling, because Peggy isn't joking, she's serious and she looks flustered. But, he can't help the smile that tugs at his lips, and he smiles broadly. Peggy watches him for a long moment, not reacting, not smiling, just standing there with her hand on his sweaty shirt. Then, she smiles, a huge, sincere smile that reaches her eyes.

And soon, she and Steve are laughing as others watch in confusion. But, they don't notice the others. All Steve knows in that moment is Peggy. Peggy and himself, standing together, touching, and laughing. The world around him blurs and fades away. It's only them. And that's all that matters to him.

Steve sits by Peggy's tombstone with a single rose in his hand. He places it beside the other roses, and he pushes the dead leaves off her tombstone. It's been three weeks since she died, and Steve will never fully recover from it, but he's slowly learning to accept it. He has to. He's still got his family, the Avengers, and he knows they would do anything for him, just as he would for them. And, he needs to find Bucky. He needs Bucky to know that it's not the end of the line, yet. Steve realizes he doesn't really need his past, because his past doesn't define who he is, but he does need his friend. He needs Peggy, but she's gone. But Bucky is still out there, and Steve needs to find him.

"Peggy, I will always love you." Steve says, as he stands up. He stares at her tombstone for a long, long time, not saying anything, barely breathing because with every exhale, tears threaten to spill. He doesn't want to cry. He's cried enough. He needs to be strong. "You waited for me for seventy years. I just need you to wait for a couple more. Save a spot for me up there, okay?"

He looks at the tombstone one last time, then turns and walks away. Sam is waiting for him by the car, and he watches Steve as he nears the car. "You okay?" Sam asks Steve, and Steve nods. At first, he's uncertain, but the more he thinks about it, the more sure of himself he is.

He's done with pitying himself, he's over allowing himself and his actions to be controlled by his grief. He needs to stay strong, he needs to be Captain America. He's always going to miss Peggy, he's always going to wish that she was still standing beside him, but he can't let that dictate who he is. He's ashamed of himself and ashamed of how he's acted. But, he needs to move on. He's shaved, he's cleaned up, and he's ready for his next mission. Bucky isn't really gone, Steve just needs to bring him back. And Peggy wouldn't want him to wallow in his own pity, she would want him to move on, be happy, have a life like she did when he crashed into the ice. So, he's going to do what she would have wanted him to do. He's going to live his life.

"I will be okay." He replies. And he silently adds, at least I danced with her like I promised.

"No, Steve I can't." Peggy laughs from her bed. She's old and frail, but she's still as beautiful to Steve as she's always been. Even as she lies in her bed, coughing and watching him with hazy eyes, he still loves her. He will always love her. He grabs her small, bony hands in his own, and squeezes very gently, and he leans down so he can whisper to her without the nurse hearing.

"Come on, Peg. I promised you a dance." He jokes. Peggy laughs, and it's the same laugh Steve remembers from the day he jumped on the grenade. It's genuine and it's contagious, but, best of all, it's still as youthful as it's always been. Her eyes sparkle and she watches Steve excitedly. He releases her hand and walks over to the CD player, and he fumbles with the switches for a second or two before he manages to turn it on. He puts in a CD, and he chooses track eight. It's a song from the war, the song he had thought of when he told Peggy he would dance with her as he was hurtling towards the ice. It starts playing, its melodic sound fills the room.

He turns on his heels and he faces Peggy. Her eyes are dancing with joy. She remembers the song. Tears shine in her eyes and one falls down her cheek, but Steve wipes it away gently. He kisses her forehead, and gently takes her hand. She grabs it tightly and pushes the sheets off her body. With Steve's help, she lowers herself out of the bed. The nurse is watching, but she makes no attempt to stop them, and Steve is grateful. Peggy's small, trembling arms wrap around Steve's neck, and he wraps his arms around her waist, supporting her, offering support in case she gets tired. She lays her head on his chest, and they slowly dance to the music.

"Not a bad dancer." Peggy whispers. Steve smiles, and rests his chin on her head. Her hair smells like it did the last time he kissed her, before he boarded that aircraft, the last time he saw her for seventy years. They turn and twist and gently glide across the room, never leaving each other's warm embrace. It's the most beautiful moment Steve's ever experienced. He finally gets his dance, and he can't imagine it being any better. The world around them fades away and all that exists is them, and that's all that matters.

"I could say the same for you." Steve jokes, and he holds Peggy tighter, afraid it's all just a dream, afraid he's going to lose her. Peggy holds him tighter, too. She's crying silently, and Steve feels her tears on his chest. He lifts her chin up using his forefinger, and he frowns as he looks into her beautiful brown eyes. "What's wrong?" He asks.

"I thought you were dead." She says, and Steve swallows the lump in his throat. "I never stopped thinking about you, ever. I never stopped thinking about that scrawny kid from Brooklyn."

"I owed you a dance." Steve says. It's all he manages to get out, because he realizes Peggy loved Steve Rogers, not Captain America. She loved him for him, not for the serum.

"Seventy years, Steve." She says softly.

"I know." He says. He doesn't know how to respond. The music is just in the background, and all he hears is Peggy's voice. He remembers it. He tells himself that even when she's gone, he will never forget it. But, he tries to convince himself that she won't go, that she'll live forever, even though he knows she won't. "You know what the first thing is I thought of when I woke up?" He asks.

"What?" She replies.

"You. Our dance." He says, and he feels Peggy's grip tighten around him. He remembers running through the streets, surrounded by buildings and lights and cars he had never seen before. Then Fury told him he had been asleep for seventy years. And all he could think of was that he had a date, and he had missed it.

"You know why I've lived this long?" She says.

"Why?"

"I was waiting for you. For our dance. And now it's happening. Now I don't have to wait any more."

"But you still have to hold on, because I love you."

"I love you, too, Steve Rogers, the little kid from Brooklyn."