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Oh lord, I’ve been waiting for you
She waited for him.
Peggy knew it was stupid. Her heart was already made up of jagged edges. As soon as the nose of the plane touched the water, she froze internally down to her feet.
But the thing was, even if you took the serum out of the occasion, there was something about the way Steve Rogers spoke. Every word was truth and earnestness. It didn't matter about the way he delivered his words - usually with a bumbling sweetness, and often terribly awkward - all that mattered was how she felt on hearing them. She felt like she believed every word, and that was just when he was making inept small talk. When he made a promise, Peggy could feel it in her bones that Steve Rogers made promises like she did. Like if they had to move heaven and earth to make the universe itself align to the right position to make the promise come true, they would in a heartbeat.
She dressed in her red dress, and waited outside the pub. Steve liked that one. She remembered the sharp inhale in the back of his throat, the bashful smile, and the mirroring flush of colour on his cheeks. Yes, this was the best dress. She would give him an hour. Steve wouldn't be late if he could help it, but he had promised to be here. She could allow him an hour. He was a soldier.
And yes, Peggy was aware. She knew. It was impossible. Steve went down in the dark icy sea. He wasn't coming here. She was an idiot. But the alternative was sitting at home, and feeling stupid, and thinking 'what if'. If Steve somehow made it out of the ice, he'd make it here first. She just knew it.
So she waited. Turned down the assholes who didn't know she was waiting for someone she loved to turn up. And she waited some more.
The hour passed, and she felt as stupid as she thought she would. Still, it had been the right thing to do. Peggy needed to know he was gone. She needed to know he was never coming back.
When she gathered her coat around her, ready to set off into the darkness back to her apartment, she took three steps in her best heels and stopped. Something thrilled across the back of her neck. The strangest sensation.
"Steve--" His name fell from her lips before she could hold it back. It echoed around her on the empty street. If she felt stupid before for coming, she surpassed that now. Heat gathered, at her forehead, low in her stomach. She hated anyone making an idiot of herself. And that include when she was the one doing it.
Laughing to herself, her head lowered, Peggy turned back to go home - and two hands grabbed her elbow. Warm. Steadying her. Definitely male from the size.
Peggy was about to respond like she always did -- solar plexus, instep, nose, groin -- when she caught the scent of the man in her preparatory inhale, and she found herself laughing. And laughing. And maybe crying, but, oh, what did crying have to do in a place and a time like this.
"How?" Peggy asked, shaking her head back and forth. She could barely see him through her tears, but it was him. Steve. Her hands found the nape of his neck, and she smiled.
"Hello, Peggy." Steve's voice was a little lower than she remembered. Definitely more sombre. Going under the ice like that must change anyone, Peggy thought. One of his hands moved from her elbow to her face. His thumb caught on her cheek. "Hey, don't cry. Ssshh."
"I thought I'd never see you again." She leaned into his touch, barely able to believe this was real. His skin against hers was almost enough. She still felt like he might disappear into mist and smoke at any moment.
Steve laughed, and it was quiet, and muffled, and he just said, "Yeah," and was silent for a long moment.
Peggy didn't know how long they stood there for. "We should go inside," she said, making no attempt to move.
When Steve didn't respond, though, she felt something inside her sink. She pulled back, and looked at his face. His too serious face.
Oh. She should have known. This was too good to be true. She tried to read the truth on his face, but his face wasn't a book.
"You can't stay," she realised, knowing she was right as soon as the words came from her mouth. She was proud of herself for the way they came out. Strong words. Despite everything, she was strong.
And Steve was strong too. He'd always been strong, even if his body once had trouble catching up to his mind. His face cracked a little, and Peggy's next breath was half a sob. "I can't stay," he repeated, soft and low.
She looked up at him. It didn't make sense. It didn't. But it did, too. The clothes he was wearing seemed odd. Her hands drifted further down, grazed the material. It was thicker than anything she had seen him wear before.
There were things she wanted to know. Why couldn't he stay? What had happened to him? How did he get back?
There was only one thing she needed to know. "How long can you stay?"
"Just a few hours," Steve said, and his stoic expression dropped away, and in his face said all the things she was feeling too.
This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair.
"Well, then," Peggy said, pushing through her tears. She was nothing if not practical. If she only had him for a few hours, then they would be the best damn hours of either of their lives. "I think I promised something about teaching you how to dance."
Neither of them brought up how raw her voice sounded. "Okay," Steve said. His voice was just as broken apart. His fingers trembled at her cheek, at her waist, and his eyes couldn't leave hers for a moment. He started to lead her into the pub, to where faint music floated out into the night, and Peggy shook her head. Her hands tangled in the collar of his coat.
"It was never going to be that kind of dancing," Peggy said. "We both knew that."
Steve swallowed hard, but his eyes still never left hers. "I didn't want to presume."
She smiled, waveringly but wide, and tilted her head in close. "Presume away, Captain Rogers," she said, and pressed her mouth to his.
######
Steve woke with a start, on the floor, his ears ringing. He pressed the back of his hand to his eyes, and waited for the pain to pass.
Landing back in this time period was going to hurt, and hurt for a while. The doctor had promised him that. Steve had been right to believe all his promises.
He heard the man approach, his footsteps tentative and echoing on the hardwood floor, and Steve blinked several times, his eyes adjusting to the bright light. The man helped him to his feet, and Steve looked across the man who called himself Dr. Stephen Strange with an emotion he could hardly identity. Sadness and wonder, but tinged with an absolute lack of regret.
This man had promised him a little time with Peggy, and had delivered beyond his words.
"Was it worth it?" Strange asked, helping Steve to his feet. "Losing ten years of your life just for a few hours?"
Steve looked at him. Behind Strange, the whole room was panelled with mirrors. He didn't look ten years older, but he felt it. And that was all Peggy.
He could still feel her mouth against his. Her body, made to fit against him.
"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, it was worth it."
I’ll pay any cost