Actions

Work Header

Thunder only happens when it's raining

Summary:

Steve and Peggy get to have their dance and talk - or how I wanted the ending to happen.
This has been sitting in my wips for a year now and I decided to finally post it.

Title form Dreams - Fleetwood Mac

Work Text:

Steve had put almost all the stones back where they belonged.
He knew he ought to go back to his timeline. Go back home, to Sam, to Bucky. But something made him hesitant to press back the button, something wasn’t sitting right with him since he saw Peggy, back in the 70s.

He thought he was passed his grief period, he really did, but seeing her there, so young, so full of life, made him think back to his choices, to what they could have had.
It made him realize they never said their proper goodbye.
He wasn’t even next to her when she died.
They never had that dance.

He changed his coordinate and pressed the button.


Steve looks up and reads the emblem: “The Stork Club”. He exhales loudly.
This is it, if he remembers correctly (which he does, obviously).
He looks at the clock on the side, and man he had kinda missed clocks, how weird is that?
8 o’clock on the dot. He takes a deep breath and goes in.

Gene Krupa’s Full dress hop is playing. He smiles, albeit a bit sadly.
He doesn’t see her at first. Maybe she did not come, which would make sense, since I’m supposed to be dead, he thinks. But then a splash of red grabs his attention.
Here she is, on the other side of the hall, wearing that beautiful red dress, sobbing a little.

He tries to cross the hall, but the other dancers won’t let him. That’s when she spots him.
She opens her mouth, but no words come out.
Her purse falls to the ground. Steve freezes too. Shit, I really didn’t think this through, did I?
She rushes to him, leaving her purse behind, elbowing through the crowd, not caring about the nasty looks she is getting, tears streaming down her face.
And there she is, right in front of him and Gee, she is so beautiful, I almost forgot how beautiful she was.
She chuckles though her tears

“Thank you, Steven”.

Steve blushes, realizing he said that out loud.

“So, are you going to tell me what you’re doing here? Are you a ghost? Are you here to hunt me?” She raises an eyebrow, seeming unimpressed despite her tears.

Steve smiles a little at the idea. “No, I’m afraid I’m very much real.”

She still is crying but it’s silent know, tears slowly rolling down her face and she almost looks angry.
“Then who the fuck are you because I’m pretty sure I talked to my Steve just before he died. A week ago.”

She punches him in the arm. Steve does not know if it’s to check he is indeed real or because she is mad at him. Probably both. And yeah, he had not thought this through. “Let’s just – let’s just get a table, so we can talk properly.”
She looks at him wearily but drags him to a table in a corner of the hall.

“So. I’m waiting,” she says as soon as they are seated, her painted nails taping against the tabletop.

“Hmm, it’s a kind of a long story.” Her brows only furrow more at that. “But I’m Steve, I swear.”

“When were you born?”

“June 21st, though some bureaucrat thought it would be funny to have Captain America have his birthday on the 4th, so July 4th I guess.” He shrugs, having long made peace with the idea now, even though it really had upset him at the time, not the change of date itself but that they could so easily interfere with his personal life.

“How did you meet Bucky?”

“Back alley fight, Hell’s Kitchen, 1930. The official comics show him as a kid though, and he hates it so much.” He smiles remembering how Bucky reacted when he first read the official Captain America’s comics.

She smiles a little too. “Okay so, your face looks like my Steve, the Steve I kno- knew.” Her voice cracks up a little at that, and she looks at her hands, before looking at him in the eyes. “But you are eyes are not the same, your voice sounds the same, but the tone is… different. You look… Tired and worn out.” There is a pause. “What happened to you Steve?” And she says it oh so gently, her hand brushing his face, her eyes are soft when they meet his, and Steve is suddenly overcome with a wave of something nasty.
Steve closes his eyes; he wants to cry, but he can’t. “I can’t even cry anymore Pegs, how fucked up is that?” He exhales. “Half of the world died, and I couldn’t cry. I’m just… I’m just so tired. And I saw you, it had been so long, and you looked so alive, like a fire and God, I missed you so, so much.” His eyes are still closed, he is scared that if he opens them, he will just realize it’s all a dream and it’s not really Peggy’s hand he is holding but his own; he realizes he doesn’t make much sense, but he can’t stop talking. He never talked about it, even with Natasha, the subject was just too harsh. “You were always there, with me, my compass, but it’s not the same from seeing you. I guess I just realized that we never really said goodbye and I feel guilty because I left you, I wasn’t here for you. Not 78 years ago, not 7 years ago.” And everything was getting mixed up in his head, all the deaths, all the part of him he lost with them over the years -hell the decades, and it was alright because she was here, her hands under his and finally he dared to open his eyes, she was still here, looking puzzled - but here. “’M sorry Pegs, I’m dumping so much on you …”

“Hey, it’s alright Steve, I’m just happy to be talking to you.” She smiles and he knows she means it. “So what, you are from the future?”

He laughs although there is no joy in it. “Yeah, I am.”

“It hasn’t been really kind to you, has it?” she squeezes his hand.

“It could have been worse.” He smiles sadly and shrugs. “Aren’t you more surprised by any of it?”

“In my field of work, I should be prepared for anything darling, and you know, I figured that Stark would come up with something like time travel one of these days.” Steve was puzzled before he realized she meant Howard.

“How — how is he?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Doing some science, while mocking us, mere mortals.” She smiles and yeah, that sounds like Stark, father and son. “He is trying to come up with something to find yours and Sergeant’s Barnes corpses.” She stops, looking unsure.

“You can ask me whatever’s on your mind Peg.”

She exhales. “Did you… did you ever find his body?”

“A very alive body rather found me, but yeah.” Her brows go up, the silent question obvious. “It’s a long story.” Steve shrugs.

“I’ve got all night.” She smiles. “As long as you hold on your promise about that dance.”

He smiles. “Then, make sure to take notes.”

The music and other people in the dance hall were all but forgotten, and he tells her everything.
Waking up in the 21st century (“Not even one flying car, can you believe it Peg? Stark lied to us…” he jokes), HYDRA, Thanos.
Peggy doesn’t interrupt him, just holds his hand and sometimes writes some things down with her other hand. She will need all this info if she wants to build a better future, he knows it and that’s what ultimately decided him to come.

He tells her about the good things too: the Avengers, that started with only 6 people and now was way bigger than anything he could have ever imagined; Sam, who has his back since the day they met; Bucky being alive (“Gosh, what are you guys? Soulmates?” joked Peggy). “And that’s how I’m here” he finally finishes.

The hall was mainly empty now, except for a few couples here and there, slow music was now playing. Peggy let go of his hand, sat back in her chair and let out a long breath.

“Even the best liar couldn’t have come up with something like that, and we know you’re far from the best,” she winked. “I always knew you were something else Steve. Couldn’t stay in Brooklyn in the 40s, I’m not surprised you couldn’t stay in this century.” She smiles, he smiles back. The silence stretches for a bit, but they are happy just to look at each other, they thought that this simple thing had been taken away from them in the most tragic way, but here they had a second chance.

Steve got up and offered Peggy his hand “Shall we dance?”