Okay, so I will get back to my Whose Avenger story soon...but my muse kind of kidnapped me and made me write this. I am in more of a sad mood I suppose, so yeah...this wasn't even the original angst-y Steve story I'd been thinking of. I may still write that one eventually, too, but in the meantime this one snuck up on me.

Oh, and I should warn you. This is by no means a happy story! If you are not in the current mood to be reading something sad, I highly suggest giving this a pass over for now, read something else, and hopefully come back later. This does not have a happy ending!

Maybe I should write another chapter though, been thinking about it, to...leave it on a somewhat happier note. We shall see.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"Are you sure this is such a good idea?" Natasha whispered, one hand loosely gripping the elbow of her other arm. as she blankly stared ahead. Her gaze was aimed directly upon a certain super-soldier, whom was presently sitting in profile on a bed in the infirmary. The three were watching him from behind a glass pane. Clint, standing next to Natasha with his arms folded but attentions directed much the same, chose to throw in his two cents as well.

"Yeah, I mean...aren't we basically lying to him here? What'll he say when he finds out?"

"He won't," The third person, Tony, said cockily as he turned to stalk away. "Say anything, that is - he'll be too busy weeping." Then he turned and extended a hand, which happened to hold his sun glasses, motioning towards the two assassins. "This is for his own good - now make sure he gets on that jet; I've got a suit to change into..."

The two black-clad agents fell silent for a moment, sharing an uneasy side-glance. Finally, Clint sighed and spoke up.

"He does realize Rogers will eventually figure all this out and return to skin our hides?"

Natasha paused, then inclined her head a little as, still staring straight ahead, she said, "Maybe it'll take him a bit longer than normal to trace everything back due to the severe concussion he got this morning. Give us enough time to go into hiding." Clint finally turned his head to stare at Natasha, who only rose an eyebrow in response.

"Come on," she continued, stepping forward. "Let's get this over with."

"Still dunno why we just can't tell him..." Clint muttered as he followed Natasha.

-Line-here-move-along-

Tony had a plan.

Granted, his plans did not always turn out how he had foreseen them to. On the rare occasion, (Pepper would no doubt edit this to say, 'not-so-rare') ... okay so maybe, yes, sometimes his plans would blow up in his face in one horrendous, ugly, hugely explosive fireball.

He was really, truly hoping this would not be one of them.

Tony liked to help people - really he did. That's what the 'philanthropist' part was about after all, wasn't it? He just...sometimes had a strange way of showing it. Like not telling people about things, very important aspects of whatever his idea was, and then just very suddenly dumping it upon them. This was one of those times. 'Mr. Rogers' had been moping about in his existence ever since he'd woken up in this century. The guy needed some cheering up, or...at least, a little closure, perhaps. Tony had seen the need and was here to fill it. The guy clearly wasn't gonna do it for himself, so what was he supposed to do?

Their Captain was under the impression that there was some sudden affair of international importance requiring the Avengers assistance in the UK.

Everyone else knew better.

There were actually only five of them today, as Thor could not be called away from his duties to support his earthly brethren-in-arms. Fortunately, they did have Bruce on-hand in the event that, once Cap caught wind of what was going on and who was behind it, Steve just may try to kill and/or maim Tony. If that event did come to pass, Natasha and Clint would probably be sitting on the sidelines sharing a bag of popcorn and alternatively egging each one on.

Right now though, everyone was remaining silent. Tony was engrossed in his phone, occasionally glancing over at Cap, probably somewhat subconsciously fearful of his becoming the wiser a little too early. As it was, he need not fear, Steve was sound asleep where he sat, still strapped into his chair.

"He's gonna kill you, you know." Clint spoke up quietly, from the other side of the aircraft. "For not giving him any warning."

Tony's response was a simple one-shoulder shrug. Was it his fault the man was so slow in dealing with his own problems that his friends were forced to step in help? Tony didn't think so.

"It's time for him to stop the one-man pity part, I mean really..." Tony sighed and shook his head, his reply having been equal in volume to that of Clint's. Sleeping or no, the man they were speaking of did still have exceptional hearing.

"At least his concussion ought to be pretty well healed by the time we land." Natasha spoke up from her position a few seats up, idly glancing up from her book.

"Do you seriously want a Nook, Kindlefire or /something/? I could build you one..." Tony quipped, looking over at Natasha holding her in-the-flesh book, and rolled his shoulders. Natasha glanced at him, sending off one of her super-scary looks that at once made him shut up and go back to his own Starkphone.

-Line-here-move-along-

Steve had seen pictures and video many times over of this modern century and much of the wonders it had to offer, so it didn't really surprise him once he stepped off the quintjet to see how much things had changed. No, the technology used world-wide today, while often still somewhat over his head, did not surprise him anymore. He was more excited than anything to learn about the bounds and leaps that had been crossed while he'd been asleep. The thing that confused him the most, though? That was the people.

It seemed like to him, the world as a whole had gotten colder. Very few people had heart anymore; less and less people actually bothered to take time to help others or try and figure out their problems by reason and logic instead of guns and violence. It was sickening and disheartening, and - oh! The way people thought today, he just simply could not understand. It made him feel isolated at times, even among his own team, all the more noticable whenever they found themselves with some downtime. It made him miss the old days, and just how easy it had been for him to fall into Bucky's companionship, or any of the Howling Commandos, really. He'd like to think he'd even understood Peggy at least some what - very slightly - better than he understood the thinking and values of the people on his current team. Which, really was a problem because...they were his team now.

He knew Peggy was still alive, had even almost called her up once. Something had stopped him, though...he just, he wasn't ready. He could still picture her in his mind's eye, young and vibrant and full of life, ready with some little teasing quip to throw at him. Strange as it may be, he was terrified to see what she might look like now. Frail, sickly, perhaps barely able to stand. He really wasn't sure if he could stomach seeing her now, selfish as that may be. Part of him did yearn to see her, just to be able to talk with her one last time. However, that other part, the secret coward within him, was fixed in a war with the other. So he was kind of at a stalemate here.

Steve had been glad actually for the change in priorities he'd been given when everything with Loki came up. He didn't really have time to think about his own situation for some time after that all started. Downtime, though, whenever things were quiet...now that, he didn't particularly enjoy.

Back to the present, anyway. Right now was one of those times he didn't really understand his teammates - Tony had dragged them over the pond, for what purpose? He did not see any aliens attacking, there were no buildings being destroyed by enormous robots, no evil armies running amok...where was the problem?

"What's going on here?" Steve asked, finally turning to stare at his teammates. And only then realized that they had all been staring at him. "What's the situation?" Steve questioned again, finally getting the feeling there was something here he was missing, something big. He shifted a little and narrowed his eyes at Tony, knowing this must be something to do with him. Always was.

"Okay, so here is the situation..." Tony spoke up, holding his helmet in one hand as he stepped forward. "...there is no situation, at least no attacks or evil crazy people we need to save the UK from. But," Tony was now standing before Cap, one metal gauntlet resting on his shoulder as he spoke. "There was some Minister guy or something, one of the big-wigs here, that wanted to talk to us - to you, as, y'know, the Captain and all that..."

"The Prime Minister? Tony..." Steve started to speak up, one eyebrow raised, but Tony cut him off.

"Okay, so maybe not that guy, exactly - but someone just as important. And they did want to interview you, face-to-face. So just, go?" Tony asked weakly, lifting his hand and making a shooing motion. Steve pursed his lips and stared hard at Tony for a moment, but when no further answers were revealed, he sighed and turned away. He'd gone to head into the military HQ that they'd landed at, and see what was what.

"I'll go get her." Natasha said quietly, heading into the building after Steve.

-Line-here-move-along-

"...He does not know I am here?" The woman standing next to Natasha asked, her voice tight but thick. Natasha nodded.

"For some reason, Tony thought it best...to surprise him, I guess." A pause. "I could go in first to-"

"No. It is better this way, he deserves a shock, after not contacting me for so long after his waking up." The woman now sounding a little cross, a blaze alighting deep in her eyes. "I may be old, but I am no invalid. I won't need help." She straightened herself up a little, and then, head held high, took a step forward.

-Line-here-move-along-

Steve was told to wait in Room Two, and who ever it was would be with him shortly. The room wasn't all that big, just had one long table with four chairs around it, two on either side, facing each other. It looked more like an interrogation room than anything. He half expected Tony to barge in after him, but he was mercifully left to his own devices for this meeting. Whenever it would be starting. He didn't have to wait long, hardly ten seconds after he'd formulated that thought had the door opened.

Someone stepped forward, a slender elderly woman dressed in neat and tidy old-fashion British military garb, and though her hair was now gray and tucked back in a tight bun, there was no mistaking that look in her eyes. Steve's mouth hung open and for a moment they just stared at each other. Discreetly, the door was pulled shut behind them by Natasha.

"You're late." The woman said as Steve started to stand, her voice changed ever so slightly with age yet still held that sharp edge to it. Steve stood there another moment, the reality of all the time and the life he could've spent with this woman, gone. And then he realized - she was the one that had wanted to talk to him. That thought, and how he'd been kinda rather selfish this whole time, hit him like a brick. He was suddenly finding it very difficult to breathe...

"I.." he started, very softly and then had to clear his throat as he took a step forward, "I couldn't call my ride." He finally got out, taking another step forward. His eyes were deep and dark, reflecting these pained emotions he'd been holding close to his chest ever since he'd woken up and realized what year it was. He'd never really allowed himself the time and energy to dwell on it, until...well, until now.

'Til a certain billionaire had forcibly slapped him in the face with it. Oh, yes, he was gonna kill Tony...limb by limb, then feed what was left to Pepper, whom he was certain wouldn't have taken part in this.

Right now, though, he had a silently quivering elderly Peggy Carter standing before him, and all at once they carefully but tightly wrapped each other up in an embrace. Peggy allowed a few tears to fall - she had had time to sort this all out, absorb it all, but seeing him again, in the flesh, looking exactly as the day he'd left all those -almost seventy- years ago had just about done her in. Steve, however, was a different matter...seeing her again had caused the wall he'd carefully constructed around his emotions to shatter. And if they did not get Steve seated right this moment, they may both topple to the floor.

"Ah, Steve, darling, you need to sit.." She spoke up, and wrinkled her nose as she artfully guided Steve over to sit in a chair without his having truly realized until she was trying to let go. She was grinning at him as she said, "Some time may have gone by, but I am not a complete invalid yet. I can still do anything you can, probably better." She said, a glint in her eyes as she tried to lighten the mood. It didn't really work.

Instead of allowing her to step back, Steve had somehow managed to pull her down into his lap. He'd blushed as soon as he realized what he'd done, but as she was making no move to escape and instead closing her eyes as she rested her head on his chest, he figured it was okay. He tried to get a hold of himself, but then she suddenly looked up at him with her large amber eyes and he almost lost it once again.

"It's okay," she soothed, smiling ever so slightly, sadly. "I've had a lot more time to sort through this than you have."

"I just...I can't believe..." He couldn't even formulate words right now. She smiled sadly once again and then he really did lose it, crying into her hair as she rubbed circles across his back.

It was unfair! They'd missed so much together, a life they could've had...will never be able to have. How could he ever face her again? He'd messed things up, for both of them...but, it had been a necessary evil, right? He'd had to do it, to save everyone else, even if it would result in his own life being permanently messed up.

"Steve..." Peggy distracted him by placing her hand upon his cheek, and was forced to meet her eyes. "...honey, I know there is so much we've missed out on, so much time that's gone. Much as we try, much as we'd wish, and hope...we cannot go back. Steve," Peggy said softly, her voice quivering now once again, "I've lived my life. Now, it's time for you to go on and live your own." She ended quietly, kissing him on the forehead. His tears fell unbidden now as he held her tightly but gently, and slowly he nodded his head. He didn't want to, but he knew she was right... His watery gaze finally met hers, and then they both shared an equal smile.

"You can do it; don't forget - you are, 'a good man.'" Were her last words to him, as she tapped him on the chest, and then closed her eyes as she leaned against him once more. Briefly he wondered how she'd known what Erskine had said to him all those (not so long for him) years ago...

...And then, he realized what he had just lost. And broke down once more.