NOTE: I do not own The Avengers or Captain America. Also I am very aware that Bucky will be returning in Cap 2 but I started this before that was announced so just use your imagination. xx

Steve twiddled his thumbs as he looked out across the water, watching New York diminish into a faint skyline behind him. "Tony, this had better be pretty damn good."

Tony grinned again, obviously unable to contain his excitement. "Trust me, Cap, you're going to love this."

Steve remembered the phone call he received from Tony Stark just two hours ago, begging him to come to Stark Tower as quick as he could. Despite Steve's argument, Tony didn't speak a word of what exactly they were doing, or where they were going. Another hour later, Tony had one of his personal jets flown out to his tower, which made quite a show, and the two had boarded the aircraft, set out for, well, wherever Tony had planned to take Steve.

Steve huffed. "Can I at least take a stab at where we're going?"

Tony shook his head back and forth. "Nope. I bet you'll guess it eventually. And that takes the fun out of everything. Don't worry. You'll know where we are before we land."

The super solider sighed again, leaning back into his chair. Wherever they were going, Steve could bet it was going to be another outing Tony Stark had dragged Steve to. First the renovations of a very small and very private Stark expo, next a military presentation of some new Stark Enterprises jets (modeled strictly for private use, not for wars overseas). To be honest, Steve was getting bored of his and Tony's little escapades to see another Stark Enterprises toy.

Not half an hour later, Stark's jet began to hover over land again. Another few minutes later and Steve could make out a large, standalone white pillar in the distance, as well as a seemingly bustling metropolis. Steve laughed. "Really, Stark?"

Tony looked confused. "What is it now?"

"You've taken me to Washington, DC? What, d'you have another government presentation to show off to me?"

Tony mocked offense, resting his hand above his heart. "Honestly Steve, I'm hurt that you would think so low of my gadgets. And no, we're not going to see another one of those. I thought you might want to see someone."

"See someone?"

Tony smirked. "Yes, someone. I thought all this future-y stuff was taking a toll on you. You kind of need a break."

Steve scoffed. "I don't need a break."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

The jet landed with a resounding thud and crept towards a main building Steve assumed was the airport. He saw a serviceman push a ladder towards the jet's main door, and Tony stood up, straightening himself, fixing the suit he wore. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his friend staring at him, and turned around to smile at him. "You ready?"

"Your destination, Mr. Stark. We've arrived."

Tony smiled a very tight smile. "Thank you." He slapped a 100 dollar bill into the chauffeur's hand as he opened the car door for Tony. Steve managed to exit the car himself.

He looked, puzzlingly, at the building they've arrived at. "A retirement home?"

Tony buried his head in his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Are you really this thick, Rogers? Ice get to your head a bit?" He looked to Steve for a response, but his friend continued to shoot him confused looks. He gestured to the building. "Come on, let's just get inside."

Moments later the two were standing inside, Tony talking in hushed whispers with while Steve observed the lobby. A few elderly patients were milling about. He spotted a couple holding hands in a corner sofa. He turned away and came face to face with Tony, holding a slip of paper with a room number written on it. He was grinning from ear to ear.

"Ready for a blast from the past?"

Without waiting for an answer, he took Steve by the wrist and dragged him down the hall, up the staircase, and down another hall until the two came to the room number printed on Tony's slip of paper: 221. Tony raised an eyebrow, nodded towards the door. Knock, he mouthed.

Steve raised the knuckle of his index finger to the door and tapped against it twice. He heard rustling as Tony shifted his weight from one foot to another. He looked like he was about to pee his pants, hiding a grin from his face by examining his shoelaces.

The door opened to reveal an old woman, reading glasses in hand, wearing a pink blouse and some slacks, her white hair in tight curls around her wrinkled face. Steve recognized her immediately, and nearly fell to his knees.

Peggy Carter.

She seemed to recognize him as well, because he put a hand to her mouth and gasped quietly. "Steve…" she stepped towards him, touched the side of his face with fragile fingers. He brought his hand up to her own and clasped it.

"Peggy, I… I thought I'd never see you again."

She smirked. "Really thought you'd get rid of me this easily, did you?"

Beside them, Tony cleared his throat. "Listen, I hate to interrupt this romantic moment you two are having, but, ah-"

Peggy turned her attention away from Steve and towards Tony, recognition lighting up like a lamp upon her face. "You… don't tell me this happened to Howard too."

Tony chuckled, looking down at the beige carpet beneath him. "I'm afraid not. Tony Stark, his son." He held out his hand for her to shake, but she ignored him and swung her arms around his neck. Slightly alarmed, he slowly and quite awkwardly began to pat her on the back as well.

She pulled away, pressing the tips of her fingers to her eyes, gingerly. "I'm sorry. Old age has softened me, and seeing people from the past… it gets me." She smiled through her tears. "Well, we should go. There's something I wanted to show you."

Steve and Peggy were walking through the grass, dew staining their ankles. Tony trailed behind, stopping to smell the roses, letting the duo have their time together.

"What has it been like?"

"Hmm?" Steve's eyebrows knitted together.

"Such a drastic change. One moment, you're flying into the water, the next you've woken up in present day. How are you even coping." She chuckled humorlessly. "I've had 70 years to adjust, and I'm still clueless as to how a cell phone even works."

Steve laughed with her. He kneaded his hands together, but only found solitude in Peggy's. He grabbed it arbitrarily, and to his surprise, she did not shy away from his grasp, but took it with double the strength he did. She smiled at him, with dark, watery eyes, surrounded by aged, wrinkly eyelids, and nodded.

Steve began to formulate his answer. "When I first woke up, I… thought it was just a dream, maybe the afterlife… I knew it wasn't reality. But it sank in eventually, and I knew I had to either accept it, or get blown away, just become someone who couldn't keep up." He shrugged. "Besides, with the line of work I'm involved with, and the science geeks I've become surrounded with-" he ignored the "Hey!" from Tony- "it's not that hard to just smile and pretend like you understand. I was chosen for the Avengers Initiative, and even for the Super Solider program, because I had heart, and… and will, and motivation, and eventually brawn. But I was never chosen for anything because I was good with technology, or good at adjusting to anything. I had one thing I wanted to do in life, and eventually I accomplished it. That's why I was selected to do this line of work. I don't think I was born for anything but this."

Peggy turned Steve's hand over in her own, contemplating his answer.

And then they were there. In the open field, there was one lone gravestone, solitary and steadfast. Steve pointed to it. "What is that? Who is that for?"

Peggy smiled. "Come on."

Slowly the pair of them made their way over towards the small headstone, Tony still trailing behind. The closer they got, the more letters Steve could make out, until eventually he could make out a name.

The name of his best friend.

He considered going back. He considered turning around, calling a chauffeur, and leaving. He didn't want to do this. It had been painful enough seeing him die right before his eyes.

But somehow, his feet continued to function. And he grasped Peggy's hand, even harder now, and he continued down to Bucky's gravesite.

Steve noticed a tear form a path down Peggy's face, detouring upon the tiny wrinkles that would block its path. She wiped it away when she noticed Steve staring. "I'm sorry. I visit this place all the time but I still manage to shed a tear or two every time."

Steve smiled for a brief moment, before turning away. He examined the headstone:

James Buchanan Barnes

WWII

It was blank besides his name. The only redeeming qualities, according to his gravestone, were that his name was James Buchanan Barnes, and that he had fought in the second world war. It didn't even say "Bucky". He wanted to kick down the gravestone for reasons unknown to him. He didn't think that it was a proper gravestone, he thought. Maybe that's why he wanted to kick it down.

Peggy cleared her throat. "He was originally supposed to be buried at Arlington, at the national cemetery. But at the last minute they put him here. Anonymous family request." She cleared her throat. "Would you like a minute? I can-"

Steve nodded wordlessly, looking out onto the horizon with glassy eyes. Peggy dropped her head, made her way over to Tony- nearly forgotten in the pair's shadow- and signaled for him to follow her. They began casual conversation whilst they walked towards the shade of a nearby tree.

Steve covered his face with one of his hands. "God, Bucky. Everything's changed." Steve cleared his throat, wiped his eyes. "Everything. I've changed. Peggy's changed. This whole world is completely different." Another pause. "I miss you, Bucky. For seventy years I've missed you. I'm not sure I'll ever stop." Pause. "You were my only only friend."

He stopped, gave himself a moment. And another moment. And another. Deep breaths. Sudden realization that maybe he couldn't do this. And then finally he tore himself away from the grave. From James Buchanan Barnes, WWII. And back to Peggy. Back to Tony. Back to reality.

Peggy Carter died in her sleep two weeks later, and was buried next to Bucky's grave. Just days after receiving word of the news, Steve found a letter in his mailbox. Upon opening it, he recognized the loopy handwriting and unfolded and examined the letter as quick as he could.

Dearest Steve,

You were born to live, not to die. No matter how much you change, to me, you will always be Steve Rogers, the kid from Brooklyn.

-P