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The soft September sun spilled over the quiet suburban streets outside Washington, painting everything in warm golden tones. The air still held the last trace of summer heat, gentle and familiar. A light breeze moved through the trees, shaking loose a yellowing leaf and carrying it slowly down the nearly empty road.
Sunlight caught on Steve’s helmet where it rested on the seat of a brand-new motorcycle. This motorcycle was a special gift, which he had shyly accepted from his beloved wife for his birthday.
Steve hadn't celebrated his birthday in a long time, and such an expensive gift caught him off guard. At first, he awkwardly tried to refuse it, thinking it was too much.
Peggy just gave him that look of hers, stepped closer, and before he could finish, pressed the keys into his palm, gently closing his fingers around them.
“The war is over, Steve. We don’t have to put life on hold anymore. Now we can make each other’s dreams come true,” she said calmly, but with that quiet insistence that made arguing feel pointless.
"I remember you talking about how Colonel Phillips assigned you an army motorcycle," Peggy added softly. "Your eyes lit up so brightly in that moment. The guys didn't pay much attention and quickly changed the subject."
She smiled, the memory of that night by the fire in the dark forest still warm in her mind, and continued.
“And then, when everyone had gone back to their tents and it was just the two of us, you admitted it all brought you back to a childhood dream,” she said. “You told me about the first time you saw a policeman on a motorcycle and how deeply it impressed you.”
Peggy paused for a moment, the memory settling quietly in her chest. She would always remember the way Steve had said, with that sad little smile, that he couldn’t even imagine himself on a motorcycle back then because of his health, because of their financial struggles… because life had never really left room for dreams like that.
“You’ve been through so many battles,” she said softly, “through death, space, time—and yet you still came back to me. I want us to start our life together by making one of your dreams come true… because you’ve already made mine.”
For the rest of that evening, Steve could hardly stop talking. He lay on the couch with his head in her lap, his eyes bright with an almost boyish excitement as he described how they’d ride out at dawn while the streets were still empty, how she’d hold onto him as they left the city behind, heading toward their favorite place near Marshall Hall.
Steve quietly opened the front door and slipped into the kitchen, trying not to make a sound. Peggy was at the table, completely absorbed in her work, surrounded by a dozen file folders. She didn’t look up, turned another page with the soft rustle of paper filling the silence.
He glanced into the paper grocery bag, pulled out the bottles, and set them down on the table as gently as he could, making sure the glass didn’t clink.
“Peggy…” he called softly.
“Mmm?” she responded, still not looking up, but clearly acknowledging he was there.
“I remember you said you prefer Pepsi,” he continued. “I checked three different stores, but couldn’t find any.”
He pulled out the last bottle of Coca-Cola and added with a small, almost sheepish smile, “And you know, in the future, Pepsi kind of becomes a younger people’s drink, and Coke is more for family gatherings. So…”
Peggy turned another page. This time, she finally stopped, set her pen down, and took a deep breath.
“My darling,” Peggy interrupted without looking up, “that’s very interesting, but could you please move the bag off the table? This is where we eat.”
She paused, then added dryly:
“And honestly, I don’t really care which of these yankee drinks I end up having.”
Steve put the rest of the groceries away, then turned up the radio on the windowsill, immediately recognizing a familiar tune — “Sh-Boom” by The Chords.
His attention drifted back to Peggy.
She was completely focused, her brow slightly furrowed as her dark eyes moved quickly from one document to the next. She was biting her lip just faintly, lost in concentration.
Steve smiled at the sight, walked around the table, and came to a stop behind Peggy. He gently kissed her cheek, then rested his forehead against her shoulder, taking in her scent. His hands settled at her waist as he closed his eyes, quietly enjoying the moment of peace.
Peggy, completely absorbed in the materials for a new case, flinched slightly at the feeling of him so close.
“Darling, I’m busy right now.”
“I’m not distracting you,” Steve replied with a small smile, not moving an inch.
Steve always took any opportunity to touch Peggy. That's how he convinced himself that this was really happening. That he was here, in his time, beside the love of his life. That he could simply hold her, kiss her, run his fingers through her hair, without needing to fall asleep just to feel it, only to wake up and spend the rest of the day haunted by the thought that it had only been a dream.
Peggy tried to keep reading the agent’s report, but Steve’s breath against her shoulder made it impossible to focus. She turned her head and gently kissed his temple.
“You know, this is a new song, isn’t it?” Steve asked suddenly.
Peggy listened to the radio for a moment. And yeah, she definitely hadn’t heard it before.
“Maybe. Why?” she replied softly, nuzzling her nose into his hair.
“It’s just… I’ve heard it before, in the future. And now it’s playing here. I don’t really know how to explain it, but it feels strange.”
“You’re always so dramatic,” Peggy said lightly.
Steve rolled his eyes.
“Do you miss that time?” Peggy asked quietly, a hint of worry slipping into her voice.
Sometimes, that question still unsettled her.
Steve’s stories about friends she would never meet. Moments when he compared today’s technology with things from the future that sounded strange, almost unbelievable, yet far more advanced. When he hummed songs that hadn’t been released yet and wouldn’t be for decades, or talked about films whose directors and actors hadn’t even been born yet.
All of it made Peggy wonder if, just maybe, he might regret his choice.
“A little,” Steve admitted.
He sat down in the chair beside her, and Peggy studied his face closely.
“I mean… it would be great to be able to call or text you anytime, from anywhere. To take photos of you every second without worrying about film. To find any movie in a couple of minutes and just watch it in our living room. Yeah… I do miss things like that sometimes.”
He lowered his head slightly before continuing.
“I miss the friends I made during all those years of fighting. But that doesn’t mean I’ve regretted for even a second choosing this time.”
Steve paused for a moment, carefully choosing his words.
“I had all of that,” he said quietly. “But every time I saw people living ordinary lives… like a man calling his wife to double-check what kind of milk he needed, or a child in a store begging their parents for a toy, or elderly women persuading guys to buy flowers for their girlfriends… I realized that kind of life had passed me by. That I’d never be in their place.”
He swallowed, his voice softening.
“Because the only person I ever wanted to share all of that with… had already lived her life.”
Steve took her hands in his and pressed a gentle kiss to them.
“There were days when I felt like things were finally starting to get better,” he said quietly. “But the moment I was alone, it would all come back in a new wave. For the first couple of years, I tried to move on. I told you how Nat tried to set me up on a few dates.”
He gave a faint, humourless smile.
“But at some point, I just accepted that love, family, stability… none of that was meant for me anymore. When we were on the run, or after half of the population was wiped out by the snap, I convinced myself that Steve Rogers had died in that crash, and only Captain America was left. The hero people needed. The one who always put everyone else above himself.”
He looked away for a moment before continuing.
“You know… I used to catch myself living in fantasies. In those rare, quiet moments when the world wasn’t about to end, when my friends were living their own lives, where I didn’t really fit in. I was always thinking about you. Even the most ordinary things people do every day would suddenly remind me of you.”
Steve let out a quiet chuckle.
“I remember one time after a some kind of party, Natasha convinced everyone that we absolutely had to have tea and something sweet instead of just going home as soon as the alcohol ran out. So there we were—two in the morning, sitting in Tony’s kitchen, drinking tea. And while everyone was talking, I just sat there thinking, ‘She would’ve really liked this strange tradition.’”
Peggy laughed softly, picturing drunk superheroes in a kitchen in the middle of the night, drinking tea and eating cookies like it was the most normal thing in the world.
She stood up and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer.
“My darling…”
She stayed there for a moment, her lips brushing his hair as she held him a little tighter.
“You’re home now. And you don’t have to carry all of this alone anymore.”
Her fingers brushed gently through his hair, a little longer now than it had been during the war. She found she liked it even more this way.
“You know,” she said quietly, “I’ve been thinking about something too.”
Steve tilted his head slightly.
“About what?”
She hesitated for just a second, as if deciding how honest she wanted to be.
“About how much time has already been taken from us.”
Steve went still, but didn’t interrupt.
Peggy slowly traced her fingers along his arm.
“And… that I'm not going to share you with any of it anymore.”