Archive of Our Own

“How long has it been?”

Peggy didn’t bother looking at Widow as the woman approached her, refusing to take her eyes off of him. From here she could see every movement the doctors made through the glass as they carefully inspected his currently unconscious, semi-defrosted form. The viewing room was as close as they would let her stay once they arrived at the SHIELD medical facility. She felt miles away from him even though it was really only a few feet.

She still wasn’t convinced that Steve wouldn’t disappear if he left her sight.

“You were there,” she finally answered. “You know how long it’s been since we found him.”

“I meant how long has it been since you’ve been standing here?”

At her silence, Natasha sighed softly.

“You need to take a br-”

“No.”

“Carter-”

“I left him once. I won’t do it again.”

She felt Nat’s eyes on her for a few long moments.

“Okay,” she answered simply.

Peggy waited for her to leave, but she didn’t. Considering the STRIKE team had left her to her own devices over an hour ago, Peggy couldn’t help but wonder why Natasha lingered. On the other side of the glass, Steve’s vitals remained stagnant.

“Where’s Fury?” Peggy asked in a low tone.

“Last I heard, not in the country.”

Peggy’s jaw tensed, her fingers digging into her arms that were currently crossed against her chest.

“Call him. We need to talk.”

“I’ve tried. He hasn’t been picking up.”

“Then how can I reach him?”

“Unknown.”

“Someone has to know.”

“Not if Fury doesn’t want anyone to.”

“And what do you know, Widow?” Peggy asked sharply, turning to her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she countered with a sharply raised eyebrow. Peggy stalked to her, crowding her against the viewing glass and using their height difference to glare down at her.

“This wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been on a mission where you had more information or a secondary objective. I’ve overlooked it until now because I know what it’s like to be a spy and the need to compartmentalize information for the greater good. More importantly, I trusted you. But you knew who Steve was to me, and if you knew he was on that ship then-”

“Peggy,” Natasha interjected. “I didn’t know he was there until I found the Hydra Stomper in the cargo hold.”

“If you had known beforehand, if this was another one of Fury’s secrets, would you have told me?”

Natasha looked at her for a few moments, seemingly mulling it over seriously.

“I don’t know,” she finally answered.

Peggy pursed her lips and stepped to the side, turning her full attention back to the room full of doctors. She didn’t even turn to look when Widow left.

Steve needed her here.

A few hours later, after Steve had been transferred to another room (yet another location where Peggy was only allowed to follow until the doorway), Doctor Cho finally emerged.

“Captain Carter,” she greeted.

“How is he?” Peggy asked without further preamble.

“As it stands, his body hasn’t rejected any portion of the defrosting process. We’ll be monitoring his vitals closely to ensure that his organs - mainly his heart and his lungs - don’t shut down. We’re in uncharted territory here, so we need to be prepared for sudden changes as his body acclimates.”

“But… he’s really alive?” Peggy whispered, still in disbelief.

Doctor Cho nodded, a sympathetic smile on her face.

“How?”

“Considering there haven’t been any Tesseract-created portals recently, my best guess is that he’s been in cryo-stasis for the last 7 decades, or close to. At the moment there’s no way to tell if he’s been intermittently defrosted or not. We’ve taken blood samples to evaluate his health, although we’re still waiting results. According to all the information we have I understand that he has a lot of ailments we’ll need to treat or at the very least mitigate - however, won’t know to what extent while he’s still unconscious.”

“When will he wake up?”

The doctor’s slight hesitation made Peggy’s heart drop to her stomach.

“While he’s responded positively thus far, we need to be prepared for the possibility that he won’t wake up.”

“Steve Rogers is a fighter,” Peggy told her. “He’ll wake up.”

Instead of attempting to argue, Dr. Cho nodded sympathetically.

“Regardless, you’re free to see him now, Captain.”

“Thank you, Doctor Cho.”

“You can call me Helen,” she told her with a kind smile before walking off.

Peggy took a deep breath, before turning to the door that would lead her to Steve. She reached out with a trembling hand and opened it slowly. Steve was laying on the bed, motionless. If she looked closely enough, she could see the slight rise and fall of his chest, though the beeping coming from the monitor beside him was enough to tell her that he was alive.

She couldn’t believe that he was even here.

Peggy approached the bed slowly, as though she might startle him. Although if she was being honest with herself, it was because she was scared that if she got too close, he would disappear. How many times had she imagined this? Well, maybe not this exactly, but she had imagined seeing Steve again, no matter how impossible it was. She’d certainly dreamed about it often enough.

Carefully, she set down her shield against the wall and moved a chair beside the bed, flexing her cramped fingers after having held it on and off for hours.

“Hello, my darling,” she said quietly. After a few moments of deliberation, she took Steve’s hand in hers. It was colder than she remembered, though she supposed that was to be expected after being frozen for nearly 70 years. She stared at Steve for countless minutes until her vision blurred with tears.

“I’m sorry I was late to our dance,” she whispered. “That I wasn’t there to protect you when you needed me. But when you wake up - because you will wake up - I promise you that I’ll make up for all of it. We’ll have our dance, all you have to do is wake up. Please wake up, Steve.”

The door to Steve’s room opened a few hours later, and Peggy was surprised to see Widow - now in civilian clothing with freshly washed hair, holding up a brown paper bag as an offering.

“I wrote your post-mission report for you,” she announced, inviting herself inside the room and pulling up a chair to the foot of the bed. “After I secured round-the-clock security for this room - not because you’re not capable of doing it singlehandedly, but you’ll need to sleep eventually. I also got us some food.”

“Why?” Peggy blurted.

“I talked to Dr. Cho. By the sounds of it, it’ll likely be some time before Rogers wakes up and judging by the fact that you’re still wearing the stealth suit, you probably haven’t eaten.”

“No, I mean… why did you come back?”

Natasha’s look softened almost imperceptibly. 

“You’ve got the shield, I’ve got the sword.”

Peggy managed a smile, knowing exactly what she was conveying in echoing her earlier words.

“More like a very appealing takeout bag, but cute wordplay.”

“Shut up and eat your chicken fried rice,” Nat quipped, her smile softening her words as she handed Peggy the aforementioned container and a fork.

Nearly twelve hours later, with Widow fast asleep curled up in her chair (in a manner that Peggy thought looked more precarious than comfortable), Steve’s eyes opened.

Peggy, who had chosen that exact moment to once again rearrange the items on the bedside table, took a moment to realize it.

“Steve?” she whispered, freezing with her left hand still on the pitcher of water that was likely lukewarm by now.

Steve blinked, his head slowly turning to look at her. His gaze was somewhat unfocused, but trained on her figure, as though he was studying her.

Or maybe he didn’t believe that she was actually here. Considering that the last time he saw her she was shoving a tentacle monster into a portal, she couldn’t blame him for that. 

She couldn’t believe that in two years she had managed to forget just how blue his eyes were.

“Steve, it’s me,” she continued gently, lowering her left hand and using her right to reach for his.

His eyebrows scrunched together in that same manner they always did when he was confused.

“Who’s Steve?”

Peggy’s stomach filled with lead, but she took a steadying breath.

“You are Steve. Steve Rogers.”

He frowned at her.

“You really don’t remember?” she asked, unable to help the way her voice trembled.

Steve’s frowned deepened. For a moment, it looked like he was going to shake his head, and Peggy steeled herself for it. Instead, he reached his hand over, and used his thumb to wipe away the tear that she hadn’t realized had started rolling down her cheek.

Peggy’s breath froze.

“Steve?”

With his hand still on her cheek, he looked at her closely.

“Do you know me?”

His eyes snapped up to hers, as though he was taken aback by the question.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Oh,” she whispered, taking another fortifying breath. “I’m Peggy.”

“Peggy?” he echoed slowly, as though testing the word in his mouth. 

She nodded.

“Peggy,” he repeated, more confident this time.

“Hello Steve,” she said softly, thankful that her voice hadn’t trembled.

A small creak from the foot of the bed turned their attention away from each other.

Steve startled violently, ripping his hand away from Peggy’s face and reaching out in front of him, a vivid replica of the position of the Hydra Stomper’s hands whenever they released an energy blast. His eyes grew wild as he used his other hand to try and shove himself up against the head of the bed away from Natasha, who was now awake and watching them with piqued interest.

“It’s okay,” Peggy assured Steve, gently lowering his arm. “She’s a friend.”

For his part, Steve was nowhere near convinced.

“Stay here,” Widow told Peggy only loud enough for her advanced hearing to pick it up, heading toward the door while maintaining eye contact with Steve. “I’ll go get Dr. Cho.”

Peggy stayed with Steve, having managed to calm him down enough that he let her hold his hand. She stroked her thumb over the back of it in an attempt to soothe his now flighty demeanour. His grip was tighter than she ever remembered it being, and while it wasn’t near a level that could hurt her, it was still strong enough to surprise her. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was new, or if there had simply never been an occasion where he’d needed to hold her hand this tightly before.

Steve’s eyes were still darting around the room, always returning to the door that Widow had left out of two minutes ago. His free hand was on his lap, but would twitch every now and again as though he wanted to raise it.

“Steve?” Peggy tried gently.

His head snapped to her, but when their eyes met, his gaze softened ever so slightly.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” she promised him, her voice soft but confident. “I know that you don’t really remember what we - that you have no reason to trust me but-”

“I do.”

“What?”

“I do,” he told her.

Peggy opened and closed her mouth a few times before she felt confident that her voice wouldn’t break.

“I… really? Why?”

“I don’t know,” he frowned.

“I won’t let you down,” she whispered.

Steve nodded, his grip on her hand tightening further. If he was going to say anything else, it was interrupted by Dr. Cho and Widow entering the room, along with Dr. Banner - though when he’d arrived Peggy had no idea. Steve reacted immediately to their arrival, raising his palm at them.

“It’s alright, they’re not going to hurt you,” she promised.

Steve’s gaze flicked between the group that had just entered and Peggy, as though he was fighting between his instinct to protect himself and his apparent trust of her.

Eventually, the latter won out. He slowly lowered his arm, though he didn’t take his eyes off of the group in front of him - or release Peggy’s hand.

“Hello, Private Rogers,” Doctor Cho said kindly. “My name is Doctor Helen Cho. It’s an honour to meet you.”

Steve blinked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“What do you remember about the events leading up to you waking up here?” she continued.

He glanced dubiously at Peggy.

“It’s alright,” Peggy encouraged. “You can trust her.”

He flicked his eyes forward.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t remember the events leading up to you waking up?” Helen clarified.

Steve hesitated but he shook his head.

“Can you tell me what the last thing you remember is?”

“I… don’t…” Steve trailed off, furrowing his brows.

Doctor Cho and Doctor Banner shared a concerned glance.

“Is there anything you remember about your life?”

Steve frowned and turned his head to look at Peggy, but even after long moments he remained silent.

“It’s alright,” Peggy told him gently, knowing that she had to maintain her composure. “You don’t have to answer if you can’t.”

“Cap?” Dr. Banner prompted. “Can we have a word?”

Peggy nodded, but when she went to stand, she felt Steve’s hand tug her back.

“No,” he whimpered, shaking his head at her.

She inhaled slowly, taking a moment to sit down on the bed facing him.

“I’ll be just outside the door. If you need me, you can call for me and I’ll be here in a heartbeat,” she assured him. “When we’re finished I’ll come right back.”

Steve looked dubious, but he eventually nodded and reluctantly released her hand.

Peggy gave him a reassuring smile.

“I’ll be right back,” she promised again, following Widow, Banner, and Cho outside.

“Well?” Peggy asked once they had stopped a little ways down the hallway from Steve’s room. “What do you think?”

“He’s clearly suffering from post-traumatic amnesia. Though whether that’s due to the freezing itself, or by design, it’s hard to say at the moment,” Banner answered.

“What do you mean, by design?” Peggy frowned.

“He means that Private Rogers ending up frozen in the Hydra Stomper might not have been an accident from whatever his last mission was,” Cho filled in. “We couldn’t be sure of it when we were diagnosing him earlier - and we still can’t be fully certain - but considering all of the factors: how long he’s been frozen, the extent to which every part of him was frozen, and the fact that he’s still alive… it’s nothing short of a medical miracle, especially for the late forties. I’d be very surprised if someone hadn’t deliberately perfected this particular type of long-term cryogenic freezing and then deliberately used it on Private Rogers to further their own agenda - whatever it might have been.”

“But what does that have to do with his memory?” Peggy frowned.

“People are easier to control if you take away who they are,” Widow answered in a low voice.

Peggy turned to look at her. Over the last year, she and Natasha had grown closer through their joined missions and her friend’s insistence at being her 21st-century guide (which, to be fair to her, she was better at it than Tony was). Throughout this time, Natasha had slowly opened up about her childhood and her time in the Red Room, the horrors she’d endured and was made to do. 

The thought of Steve, captured and alone, and then being tortured to the point where he forgot everything about who he was, frozen and unfrozen and controlled and used for his ability to control the Hydra Stomper for who knew how long or how often was more than she could handle. Peggy hit the wall beside her with her fist, her arm going into the wall all the way to her elbow.

Natasha was the only one who didn’t flinch her outburst.

Taking a heaving breath, Peggy pulled her fist out of the wall.

“I need to find who’s responsible,” she growled.

“Ask and you shall receive, Madam Spangles,” a familiar voice answered.

“What are you doing here, Tony?” Peggy asked, arching her eyebrow up at the man as he took a sip of some sort of green drink that reminded her far too much of the some of the moss that she had seen during a couple of her more particularly damp missions during the war.

“I asked him to come,” Bruce explained. “While Tony might not technically be a part of SHIELD, I think he has the best chance of finding out what the Stomper can tell us - most importantly, who programmed it last.”

“And therefore who took Steve,” Peggy realized.

“Exactly,” Tony smirked. “All I have to do is sweet talk Fury into letting me see that old Stomper and we’ll know who took your sweetheart within the hour.”

“I’ll go with you,” Natasha offered. “Fury’s still MIA so you’ll need me to find him, but mostly because there’s no way in hell you’re sweet talking Fury into anything by yourself. Besides, if we’re going rogue-ish, we should at least try to keep this discreet, and you definitely have no chance of doing that alone.”

“Thank you,” Peggy said sincerely. “For everything you’re doing for him.”

“It’s not just for him,” Nat told her.

“You’re an Avenger, Peggy,” Banner agreed. “We take care of our own.”

Peggy spent most of the next three days in Steve’s medical room. When it became evident that he would be spending a fair amount of time in there while he healed (and hopefully regained his memories), she had made sure to bring in a few items from her own flat to make it more comfortable and look at least marginally less like they were in a medical facility. At the very least he had a proper window.

She would arrive early in the morning and have breakfast with him - breakfast that she picked up. There was no way that after all the torture he’d endured that Peggy would also subject him to the slop they served at the cafeteria, even if was technically still better than war-time rations. Afterward breakfast she would talk to him, updating him about her time in the future, what she’d seen and learned and her recommendations of things to experience when he was discharged from the medical facility. Sometimes she would read to him from the stack of novels she’d brought. When she had nothing left to say or they’d both gotten tired of reading, she’d let the music from her radio fill the room, and they would sit in otherwise silence. 

Most of her attempts at proper conversation were met with long intense stares, and often she couldn’t quite make out what those stares meant. She tried not to think about how she used to know him like the back of her hand. If she thought about it too hard, it would be far too easy for her to focus solely on everything that was wrong with this situation.

Peggy had to remind herself to be grateful for the little progress that was being made.

“What about this?” she asked, showing him the book that she had just brought with her today when Steve shook his head to her offer to watch a movie. “I remember you telling me that you liked Agatha Christie. I’ve been reading all her new books - well, the ones that came out after I… But we can read this one together. I haven’t started it yet.”

Steve looked at the cover, and then nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

She smiled in return, and opened the book.

Little steps were still steps.

After the first few days of rest, they began work on building up Steve’s muscles again.

Dr. Cho gave Steve a few simple exercises to build up the muscles in his arms that he could do by himself. Since Peggy was still the only one who was able to get within two feet of Steve without him immediately panicking, she was the one who helped him with all of the exercises. It reminded her of all those years ago when she would use the punching bag the army had assigned “specially for her”, which happened to be where Steve worked on his own rehabilitation following his gunshot injury. Peggy had always thought they were kindred spirits, but it was during that time that they had started getting to know each other in earnest.

She only wished Steve could remember that as well. At the very least he had begun to respond to her in conversation more.

There hadn’t been word from Tony or Nat about acquiring the Hydra Stomper, let alone getting close enough to inspect it. Peggy had never been good at standing idle, especially when it involved loved ones, but even now she could understand the delicacy of the situation, so she kept herself busy helping Steve’s recovery in every way she could.

“You’re making wonderful progress,” she told Steve after a particularly successful session working on his leg strength, tapping away at the tablet Dr. Cho had given her to track Steve’s progress. “It won’t be long before you’re walking by yourself. Then perhaps once you regain that ability, we can begin to shift our focus into those exercises Dr. Banner gave us for your memory.”

“No.”

Peggy blinked, looking away from the tablet. This was the most forceful she’d heard him other than his reaction at seeing Widow when he first woke up.

“No?” she echoed, setting the tablet aside entirely.

He shook his head.

“I don’t… I can’t… It…”

Steve trailed off, his eyebrows furrowing as he struggled with his words.

“It’s alright,” Peggy said gently, taking a seat on the bed with him. “Take your time.”

“I don’t want to remember,” he whispered finally. “It hurts.”

It was the most words he had strung together in a fluid sentence. If what he’d had said wasn’t so heartbreaking, she would have been elated.

“Does it… does everything hurt?”

Steve nodded, no longer meeting her eyes.

“Oh,” she said quietly, her heart sinking to her stomach. “I can go-”

Steve’s head snapped up his eyes wide.

“No.”

“But you said remembering everything hurts.”

“Not you,” he whispered.

“Oh.”

Not certain of what to do, Peggy remained frozen in her chair. Steve was the first to move. He reached over, and grabbed her hand. Blinking back tears, Peggy laced her fingers with his, relishing in the way squeezed her hand.

Neither of them said anything else for the rest of the evening.

Early the next morning, instead of heading directly to Steve’s room, Peggy stopped by the gym. 

The entire night she’d been unable to sleep, restless and haunted by her usual ghosts - and a few new ones now. It had left her anxious and with extra energy to burn off. Between missions and finding Steve, it had been nearly two weeks since she’d been at her usual punching bag.

With each punch she imagined Schmidt’s face, the man who created the portal that brought the tentacle monster into their world. The man who caused her to lose Steve not once, but twice.

She thought of Steve. Without her for who knows how long, thinking she was dead. Steve, who waited for a dance that would never come, who continued fighting for good despite all that he’d lost.

Steve, who was captured and frozen and who knows what else, for seven decades that she had skipped with one step into the portal.

With one particularly forceful hit, he bag flew to the other side of the room, only to be stopped by the wall. Peggy stared at the way the sand leaked out of the fresh tear in the bag she’d just made.

All it did was make her skin buzz more than it was before. Her heart pounded the more she watched the bag, until she couldn’t stand being so still. She tossed the bag across the room before reaching for another one and hanging it, starting the process again.

And again.

But as the third bag then turned to the fourth, Peggy’s anger didn’t subside. Anger at Hydra. Anger at Schmidt. Anger at Fury for going AWOL when she needed answers. Anger at the people who put Steve through 70 years of hell.

Anger at herself for not being able to protect the person she loved most in the world from enduring what he did.

The fourth bag flew across the room, just as the first three had, and spent a few moments heaving, trying to blink back the tears that were burning in her eyes.

“Tough morning?”

“Widow,” Peggy breathed out she turned to find her friend leaning against the doorframe of the entrance. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving another punching bag from enduring the same fate as the first four,” she said drolly, causing Peggy to frown.

“I don’t need a minder.”

“How about a friend?”

“Friend?”

“I believe the term is BFF.”

Peggy gave her a small smile that quickly faltered. She looked down at her wrapped hands.

“We don’t have to call it that if the abbreviation is too modern for you,” Natasha offered lightly.

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s my fault,” she whispered. “Steve.”

“Peggy-”

“If I had been there then he never would have been taken and he would be okay. He’s been kidnapped, frozen, taken from everyone and everything he ever knew and who knows what else he’s been subjected to, and I have the gall to be thankful that he’s here because even though he’s missing pieces of his memories and he hardly speaks he’s still Steve and I’m lucky to have any part of him back.”

Natasha stared at her for a few long moments, watching as Peggy forcefully unwrapped her hands. When she was done, the shorter woman finally spoke.

“He’s lucky to have you back too.”

Peggy took a slow breath and tossed the dressings in the direction of her bag.

“But at what cost? I can hardly believe it’s worth it.”

“Only he can determine that. But for what it’s worth, if I was kidnapped and frozen in cryo for 70 years, the person I would want by my side as I healed would be someone who knew me back before the kidnapping. Even better if they were the person who I was also in love with back then. And still was now.” 

Peggy snorted, feeling her cheeks heat up.

“We never used the word love.”

“Peggy, he started an organization named after your shield. You’re the only one he’s comfortable being alone with and from what I’ve seen you two hold hands almost regularly. Even if he hasn’t said it, he was and is still in love with you.”

Peggy finally looked up at Natasha, and found kind blue eyes starting back at her. Without any hesitation she wrapped her arms around her tightly.

“Thank you, Widow,” she whispered.

“You can thank me by taking a shower,” she muttered, her mouth currently crushed against Peggy’s shoulder.

“Right, sorry,” Peggy said sheepishly, setting her friend down.

After that shower, Peggy went to see Steve. He looked up at her entrance, but didn’t say anything.

“Hello, Steve,” she greeted. “How are you today?”

He blinked, watching her closely as she took a seat next to him. The fact that he was so quiet after she had gotten used to a few short but kind responses worried her, but she couldn’t let it get to her.

“That’s alright, you don’t need to answer,” she told him gently as she grabbed up the half-read book on his nightstand. “Would you like to pick up where we left off?”

Steve stared at the book in her hands, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, as though the red colour of her nails were the most puzzling thing in the room.

Peggy thought about Natasha’s words to her earlier, and she set the book down, taking Steve’s hand in hers. When he returned the pressure she gave, she felt a spark of hope shoot through her.

“I’m not giving up on you,” she told him, managing to keep her voice even. “Even if you never walk properly or speak as much as you used to, even if you never remember who you are or you don’t fully understand who I am. As unconventional as this is, this second chance is nothing I’m taking lightly. As long as you want me here, I shall be here.”

Steve’s grip on her hand tightened and he nodded. Peggy gave him a small smile as his eyes flicked back down to her nails.

“You like red.”

Peggy didn’t know if it was an observation, or if he actually remembered the red that always painted her nails and lips back in the 40’s. Either way, his words made Peggy feel lighter.

“Yes, I do,” she said softly.

“Captain.”

Hearing Fury’s voice the moment she entered her apartment was the last thing she expected.

“Director Fury,” she said as she turned the corner, finding him casually perusing through her pantry. “I didn’t think you were in the country.”

“Now why would you think such a thing?” he asked breezily as he grabbed a box of her pancake mix, as though she’d asked him about the weather.

“Considering no one has been able to get a hold of you for quite some time, I think it was a fair assumption.”

“Come now, Cap, you know I’m a busy man. In fact, that’s partially why I’m here. I need you for a mission.”

“No.”

Fury paused, tilting his head. For a moment, Peggy allowed herself a moment of pride for herself in having surprised him. After all, she’d never said no to a mission before.

“What do you mean, no?”

“I’m not leaving Steve while he’s still recovering,” she told him matter-of-factly.

“I’ve talked to Banner and Cho. He’s not going to miraculously be 100% before you get back.”

“I said no.”

“Carter-”

“In two years I haven’t taken a vacation or taken a proper day off,” she told him, taking long strides to close the gap between them. “I’ve never even said no to a single mission or operation or meeting no matter the day or the hour. And even if I hadn’t reserved all that time off, I would take the time anyway, because he needs me.”

“What he needs is for you to go on this mission. It’s for the greater good.”

“That’s not good enough anymore. You need to give me more information.”

“I can’t do that.”

Peggy shoved him up against the wall, lifting him up so his feet were a few inches off the ground. He dropped the pancake mix, white powder spilling all over her kitchen floor.

“What was Steve doing on the Lumerian Star?” she snapped. 

“You would do well to watch yourself Captain.”

His near indifferent tone only served to make her angrier.

“That ship was SHIELD property,” she said in a low voice. “And with all your damn secrets, there is no way you didn’t know that he was in there.”

Fury glared at Peggy for a few long moments before he finally spoke.

“I didn’t know Rogers or the Hydra Stomper were aboard that ship.”

“How could you not know?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“That’s what I need you to find out.”

Peggy raised her eyebrow, reluctantly lowering Fury to the ground, but she kept her fists tightened around his dark trench coat, effectively keeping him pinned against the wall.

“I’m not moving an inch until you tell me everything.”

Fury stared her dead in the eyes for a few long moments.

“The chaos caused by the discovery of the Hydra Stomper meant that Romanoff was no longer able to complete her primary objective on the mission aboard the Lumerian Star,” he explained, albeit rather reluctantly.

“Which was?”

“Recovering information.”

“Why did you need to gather information from one of your own ships?”

“I’m not at liberty to say at this moment.”

Peggy’s jaw hardened.

“If this was originally Widow’s mission, why doesn’t she retrieve it?”

“We’re currently in a precarious situation. If we send a team in, we risk tipping off the wrong people. If we send in someone alone, we’d be risking their life. What I need is-”

“A one-person army?”

“You’re our best chance. If I’m right - which I usually am - that information will not only tell us why the Hydra Stomper was aboard the Lumerian Star, but it might confirm a hunch I’ve been having.”

“That would mean leaving Steve alone,” Peggy argued.

“Romanoff has agreed to watch over him while you’re gone,” Fury told her. “You’ll be helping him more by going than by staying.”

Peggy mulled it over. The last thing she wanted to do was leave Steve. But Fury had a point. If the information was what she suspected it to be, she could find the people that had put Steve aboard the Lumerian Star…

She slowly released Fury’s jacket.

“I’m in.”

She had less than an hour to be ready to go, but her first priority was to see Steve. Fury estimated that she was going to be gone for at least a day, longer if things went awry. With her luck, she wasn’t willing to discount that things would.

He was still sound asleep when Peggy entered his room. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have woken him up, not when he looked so peaceful, but she didn’t want to leave him wondering what had happened to her. Again.

She sat on the edge of his bed and gently carded her fingers through his hair, hoping to wake him up gently. It was as soft as she had always thought it to be. Steve shifted and sighed, blinking his eyes a few times before they remained open.

“Peggy?” he murmured.

“Hello Steve,” she greeted softly.

“You’re a dream?”

“Hardly,” she teased lightly. “I just… I have to go on a mission,” she said softly.

He blinked, tilting his head.

“I’m going to be gone for about a day, maybe a few, but Natasha will be here. I know you’re not overly fond of her but she means well, and I trust her with my life.”

Steve frowned at her.

“Why?”

“I’m trying to find information on what happened to you. Who did this to you, more specifically.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she promised him, squeezing his hand.

“Okay,” Steve finally whispered, squeezing her hand back tightly.

It had all gone relatively well thus far. The flight had been an agonizing 14 hours long, and she was on an island that she’d never heard of until the moment she’d stepped on the quinjet, but the upside of it was that due to the remote location, security wasn’t as overtly extreme as Fury had led her to believe. She was able to weave in and out of the long halls of the tower without tripping off any alarms or being seen by the cameras - although she did have Natasha to thank for that particular skill set.

Once she’d made it to the top floor of the dimly lit building, she worked her way into the room where Fury’s intel had figured the computer system would be. Thankfully, they were correct. All that was left was hoping that the USB device in her hand worked as it should. The moment it was plugged in, she would have 75 seconds to find and download the information before she would be detected. Fury had even gotten Tony to go through the intricacies of both the USB and the various tech set ups she could expect to find upon arrival with her several times before she’d gotten on her plane.

“Not even a fossil could mess this up,” he’d assured her.

Even though she’d been thoroughly offended by his comment, she appreciated that the entire process was in fact very user friendly, which seemed to be one of the only points in her favour at the moment. Considering the fact that Fury was asking Stark for help in the first place as opposed to anyone on SHIELD’s highly capable tech team, Peggy was beginning to understand more and more just how precarious everything was. With so much at stake, she couldn’t afford this going wrong.

“Come on now,” she urged quietly as her eyes flicked back and forth between the download progress and the timer she had set. “Hurry it along.”

A soft ping and a full green bar told Peggy that the work had finally been completed. With four seconds to spare, she pulled out the USB and stashed it in her pocket. Now all she had to do was make her graceful escape through the gap between the windows and to relative safety.

The quinjet’s cloaking abilities combined with some very new stealth technology from Tony allowed the quinjet to fly close to the building and remain undetected for over 30-seconds, meaning that the quinjet was strategically circling in and out of the radius of detection until Peggy was ready to make her exit. She was supposed to wait until it circled around again, and time a perfect jump straight onto it while it was still cloaked. Not ideal, but she’d jumped headfirst into much worse with far less warning.

A faint pair of footsteps from the end of the hallway made her freeze. There wasn’t anyone scheduled to be on this floor for another seven minutes. Had the security rotations changed since their last intel? Or was it someone else entirely here with a similar purpose? Peggy wasn’t particularly inclined to stick around long enough to find out, but this was the only room on this level, there was nowhere to hide.

She checked her watch. There was still twenty seconds before the quinjet would circle back to her exact location for a relatively safe jump. Peggy eyed the fall. It was at least fifty stories from where she was, and the ground looked hard and unwelcoming. She didn’t even have her shield with her to cushion the fall - it would have brought too much attention for the purposes of the mission.

Still, there was no time and no other way out. If she gave anyone the slightest sign that she’d been here, they would risk losing the little advantage they had, and she’d never find out who had taken Steve.

In the distance she could hear the nearly-silent hum of the quinjet’s engines approaching, but not fast enough. She couldn’t use her comm for fear of being detected. 

The footsteps were getting closer. Now or never. If she jumped far enough and angled it just right, it was likely she could just make it to the quinjet on her way down. She took a few steps back, then using the shield to protect herself, charged through the gap and curled up, inhaling slowly as she made a rapid descent. Her feet hit the edge of the quinjet and she had to throw her entire weight forward to avoid falling back into the abyss. In her haste not to fall, she overshot some of the force and landed hard on her side, though safely somewhere in the middle of the surface.

Peggy groaned as she sat up, taking a moment to recover before opening the hatch to let herself in. She would definitely have bruises, but nothing was snapped or broken or-

She hastily reached into her pocket, pulling out various broken pieces of what had been the USB.

Shit.

Peggy stormed through the hall of the SHIELD medical facility, not caring about the dent in the wall she made by pushing open the doors too forcefully on her arrival. She had forced the quinjet to take her straight here, not bothering to change out of her stealth suit.

“How’d it go?” Widow asked, as though she had been waiting for Peggy’s return.

Peggy huffed out a breath and pulled out the pieces of the broken USB device. Natasha’s eyes widened and she held out her hand so that Peggy could hand them over.

“What happened?” she asked as she delicately inspected it.

“Turns out that despite all its marvels that Tony described to me, there was still room for improvement where durability is concerned.”

Natasha raised her eyebrow.

“I’ll give it to Stark, he might be able to do something with it.”

Peggy nodded tersely.

“How’s Steve?”

“He asked about you while you were gone. Seemed really concerned, actually but-”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Peggy asked, but didn’t bother waiting for an answer before rushing toward the stairs, not bothering with the elevator.

She ran up the ten flights in record time and sprinted through the hallways toward Steve’s room. Peggy stopped herself just short of his door and quickly fixed her hair, although she figured she must still look a sight from her mission. She knocked before opening the door.

Steve was on his bed with a sketch pad, and looked up as she entered, the pencil and paper falling from his hands at the sight of her. Peggy gave him a warm smile.

“Hello Steve.”

He blinked at her slowly for a few moments.

“You left,” he frowned.

Peggy stood frozen halfway to him. She was so shocked that he was being so blunt right from the get go that it took her a few moments to realize that he was expecting a response.

“I had to go on a mission.”

He frowned at her as she walked over and sat in her usual chair, which looked as though it had been unmoved since the last time she had sat in it over 24 hours ago.

“Have you been well?” she asked softly.

He continued frowning at her.

“I hope you and Natasha have been getting on. Well, as best you can. She’s a dear friend of mine and beneath her rough exterior she truly does care. I think in another life you could have also been ‘BFF’s’, as she puts it. That’s a new term I learned this century. I must admit I’m rather fond of it.”

When he didn’t respond, Peggy gave him a small smile, trying to hide her disappointment. She stood up and grabbed the empty glass of water on his table, intent on filling it for him, when she felt a hand on her wrist.

“Steve?”

“You left,” he repeated, his voice cracking as he looked at the dropped sketchbook.

Peggy followed his gaze, catching the - albeit messy - sketch of tentacles.

Oh.

He wasn’t talking about this mission.

“I did,” she whispered. “And I’m so sorry I never made it back to you.”

Steve’s lower lip quivered, and Peggy quickly sprung to action as he began crying in earnest. She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled him close. Steve clung to her and cried into her chest.

“It’s okay,” she assured him gently and kissing the top of his head. “I’m here. I’m here now.”

It didn’t need to be said between them that she had no plans to leave.

Fury was pissed, to put it lightly.

After another unexpected visit at her apartment where he’d finished cursing Peggy out ten ways to Sunday, he stormed off without a hint of what his next plan was - or when he was going to let her in on it. She didn’t entirely blame him for being this upset. Peggy felt his anger at herself ten times over. The information on the USB could have led them to answers. To justice for Steve.

With nothing to do except wait for Tony to repair the USB or Fury to come up with a new lead, she continued with Steve’s physical therapy the next day. According to Widow, Steve had been reluctant to try with anyone else, and even went as far to try and bite Natasha when she’d gotten too close.

The loss of one day’s worth of progress, however, hardly registered, as Steve seemed to be working even harder now that Peggy was back. They breezed through his hand and arm exercises, and spent most of the time with Steve working to take his first few steps by himself. He had managed to remain upright for several minutes, but had been having some difficulty in their past sessions marrying movement with self-support, though even that seemed to get better over the course of the two hours they were working.

Peggy set him up with the bars so he could use them as much or little as he needed, and she kept herself in front of him just in case. She watched with bated breath as he carefully took his first proper step forward without her help. His eyes widened and he looked at Peggy, who gave him a reassuring nod. Tentatively, he moved his hands off the bars, and he took another step.

Then another.

And another.

On the fifth step, Steve faltered, falling forward before he could grasp the bars, but Peggy was there to catch him before he could hit the ground.

“You did it!” she grinned, lifting him up and spinning him around. “I’m so proud of you.”

Without taking a moment to think about it, she kissed him straight on the mouth. When she pulled back, he stared at her openly, his jaw slightly agape.

“Sorry,” she said, feeling her face heat up as she set him down. Peggy kept her arms loosely around him so that he could stay upright. “I should have asked if that was alright.”

Steve’s mouth suddenly split into a large grin. He tilted his head up and kissed the corner of Peggy’s mouth, their height difference and his lack of balance causing him to miss his mark.

“Oh,” she said quietly, unable to help but match Steve’s radiant smile.

“It’s alright,” he whispered, as if the kiss wasn’t reassurance enough.

“Okay,” she smiled, leaning down to offer him a second kiss, which he eagerly accepted.

Steve’s recovery seemed to pick up rapidly from there. They continued with having him practice walking on his own with the bars on either side of him - and with Peggy there just in case he stumbled earlier, which he was doing less and less as much as he practiced. His speech was coming along as well. He spoke more often and in fuller sentences, even if a fair amount of them were still stilted - and if most of those sentences were really only said to Peggy, no one commented aloud.

With his condition having improved drastically, he was deemed well enough by Dr, Cho to be moved out of the SHIELD medical building into Avengers Tower. While Peggy was technically living in DC, she did have a floor designated for her in the Tower, and with the current delicateness of the situation, it felt safer moving him further away from SHIELD’s prying eyes and closer to Widow, Bruce, and Barton, who were all currently living there. The decision to have Steve move into the floor directly below Peggy’s had been decided without consulting her, but she didn’t mind, no matter how blatant Tony was being in his intentions (and with the raise of his eyebrow when he dropped that tidbit of information). At the very least this all meant that when Tony finally managed to put the USB back together, neither him nor Peggy had to worry about travelling too far to discuss the information that he’d found.

“Hello Steve,” Peggy smiled as she entered his apartment the day after he moved in the Tower. “I’m glad to see you’re up and about already."

She carefully set the flowers she had brought in a vase on his coffee table and opened up his curtains properly as she continued talking about her day. She’d gotten an early start, going to the Tower’s gym to work out and then having breakfast with Widow afterwards while they discussed Fury’s ongoing absence.

“But that’s more than enough about me,” she said after she’d successfully fixed up the room to her liking. She turned to look at Steve, who was sitting on the couch, and it took her an additional second to notice the pencil in his hand. “How are - wait, are you drawing?”

Steve nodded, though his ears turned pink. 

“Can I see it?”

For a moment, he looked unsure, glancing down at the sketchbook and then back at her. Before he could reassure him that he didn’t have to, he offered the book to her. Peggy grinned and accepted it, gasping softly at the drawing on the page.

“That’s me,” she said softly.

“Yeah…”

Peggy lightly traced her finger along the page. Steve had drawn her in her army uniform, looking at what seemed to be a map, but the details of it hadn’t been filled in yet - at least not to the extent that she had been drawn. Her hair was in the pin curl style she used to wear, with a look of concentration on her face. The shading on her lips hinted at the red lipstick she always wore, mirroring the red on her nails, and there seemed to be a strong look of determination in her eyes.

Steve had yet to tell her anything that he remembered from before they found him frozen in the Hydra Stomper - other than the drawing she saw of the tentacle monster the other day. She had been starting to believe that he would never divulge anything he remembered, if there was even anything else. But this sketch was further proof that he did remember some things.

At the very least, he remembered her.

She inhaled shakily, unable to help the tears that spilled over onto her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out.

Peggy looked up at him, stunned.

“Why are you sorry?”

“You’re crying,” he frowned.

“Oh you kind, lovely, wonderful man,” Peggy whispered, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “You can draw me anytime you like.”

“Oh,” Steve said, smiling softly. “Okay.”

Peggy gave him his sketchbook back, and happily sat down to watch him as he continued sketching.

“Captain Carter.”

Peggy shot up at the sound of JARVIS’ voice. Looking around her dark room, she furrowed her brows.

“What-”

“It’s Private Rogers, Captain,” the Artificial Intelligence explained. “He seems to be in distress.”

Without waiting for further explanation, Peggy shoved the blanket aside and jumped out of bed, running out of her apartment without bothering putting on shoes. She ran down the stairs, knowing that it would be faster than the elevator. Peggy turned the corner of the stairwell sharply, losing her footing and running into wall, but she didn’t let that - or the dent she created - stop her. The door opened for her and she went straight to Steve’s room, where he was thrashing on the bed.

“Steve, Steve, it’s me. It’s me,” she said as she cautiously approached.

When he didn’t wake up, she placed a careful hand on his shoulder and he flinched back. Peggy knew that it wasn’t smart to wake him, but seeing him like this broke her heart. She took a tentative step forward, but before she could make a decision, Steve shot upright, gasping as his eyes snapped open. In a second sharp movement, he turned to Peggy, his arm outstretched as though he was attempting to command the Hydra Stomper to blast her.

“Peggy?” he asked when he realized it was her in front of him, voice hoarse and still breathless.

She nodded.

“It’s me.”

“You’re real?”

“Yes,” she said gently, her heart sinking at his untrusting expression. “Yes I’m real. I’m here,” she promised.

“Peggy,” he cried. 

“It’s okay,” she whispered, holding him as tight as she dared. “I’m here. I’m here. You haven’t lost me.”

She kept whispering reassurances until his sobs gave way to shuddering breaths. He clung to her the entire time his head tucked under her chin until he finally fell asleep.

Peggy didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

“What do you think the nightmare means?” Peggy asked Banner the next day in Tony’s lab. “He’s been sleeping fine until now.”

“There’s a number of explanations. It could be that whoever did this to him suppressed his memories as a way to keep him complacent and now that he’s remembering they’re coming to him in the form of nightmares, or it could have been his body’s way to cope with the trauma of being frozen and unfrozen on and off for decades and this is another layer to that now that he’s spent this amount of time awake.”

Peggy shook her head, her fists clenching at the thought of everything Steve went through.

“You know… this isn’t exactly bad news,” Banner said, his voice quiet. It took Peggy a moment to realize that she had crushed the plastic water bottle she’d been holding and there was water spilling all over her fist.

“What do you mean?” she frowned, accepting a handkerchief from Banner to wipe her hand.

“No matter the underlying cause, if he’s dreaming, then he’s remembering. If he’s remembering, that’s another step towards healing, no matter how ugly it might be at the moment.”

“Hasn’t he suffered enough?”

“More than enough,” Banner agreed gently. “But until we get more answers, all you can do for him right now is be a soft place for him to land.”

Steve woke up with nightmares the next night. And the night after that. Every time, without fail, JARVIS would wake her, and every time, without fail, she would sprint down to Steve’s room and hold him until he finally fell back asleep.

The night after, Peggy didn’t leave his apartment like she normally would. She decided that it would be best to be nearby, and having discussed it with Steve (which really meant she had broached the subject and Steve nodded quickly in response), they decided it was best if she stayed.

“Peggy?” Steve asked, when she had returned from the washroom ready for bed. 

“What is it, darling?”

He took a deep breath, looking as though he was steeling himself for a difficult statement.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’m right here,” she promised, gesturing to the cot that she’d set up in his room. “Not even ten steps away.”

“No I…” he huffed, as though frustrated with himself. After starting a few incomplete sentences, he pulled back the blanket and gave her a significant look.

Oh.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded.

“Stay. Please.”

She nodded slowly and padded over to the bed. Hyperaware of their difference in size and strength, she carefully adjusted herself to take up as little space as she could. However, her aim for propriety didn’t seem to matter. Steve immediately curled his body against hers so they were touching at every point, his head over her heart. Peggy swallowed thickly and wrapped her arms around him.

She waited until he was asleep to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Peggy woke up the next morning to the sunlight peaking on through the crack in the curtains, and Steve’s bright eyes blinking up at her.

“Morning,” she mumbled.

“Morning,” Steve echoed, bringing his hand up to stroke her hair.

“You slept through the night.”

Steve nodded. Peggy smiled back, enjoying the feeling of Steve’s fingers carding through her hair.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“I’m just glad I could help,” she murmured, certain that her cheeks were pink, but unable to help but smile.

She tilted her head closer to Steve’s, making the offer clear but leaving enough distance between them that he didn’t feel obligated to kiss her.

“Peggy,” he breathed out instead of moving closer.

“Yes?” she asked, watching as his eyebrows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Peggy.”

The way we said her name made her heart stutter.

“Steve?” she whispered.

“You almost kissed me.”

“Yes I… was that alright?”

“In the bar,” he clarified. “But then Howard…”

“Yes,” she said slowly, raising up to her elbow. “You remember that night?”

Steve nodded, and Peggy, dying to know the answer, decided to take a leap of faith.

“Can I ask what else you remember?”

“Everything.”

“Everything?”

“Bucky stole a jeep.”

Peggy let out a shuddering breath.

“He did.”

“You owe me a dance,” he told her.

“How does Saturday night sound?” Peggy offered.

Steve smiled and kissed her deeply. Peggy gasped against his mouth, but pressed closer to him before he could mistake her surprise for an unwillingness to participate.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she murmured.

Steve laughed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers.

“It this real?”

“It is, my darling.”

Steve grinned, radiant and beautiful and-

“Captain Carter?”

Peggy sighed, all but rolling her eyes at the disembodied voice.

“Yes, JARVIS?”

“Mr. Stark has asked me to inform you that USB has been repaired, and he is requesting your immediate presence downstairs.”

“Bloody hell,” she frowned up at the unseen entity. “That man even inherited his father’s timing.”

Looking back at Steve, she couldn’t help but turn the corners of her lips upwards. Despite the interruption, he was still gazing at her adoringly. Peggy smiled as he tangled a hand through her hair, pulling her closer to him for their lips to meet.

Tony could wait a few minutes.