Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Requested by howaboutadance on tumblr :)


"She's just over there," a redheaded nurse, who's nametag read Sandra, smiled and pointed towards the far end of the room.

Steve followed the line of her arm. His heart pounded nervously in his chest when his eyes landed on the back of an aged woman, staring out at the flower garden. He nodded at his escort, his smile awkward, and murmured his thank you. Sandra dragged her eyes over him languidly one more time, before turning to leave, a coy smile on her face. Steve waited until she had disappeared back towards the reception, and shifted from foot to foot. He breathed in deeply, steadily, to regain his confidence, and took that all important step forward.

She didn't turn as he approached her, too interested in the fluttering of the leaves or the bees flying from one plant to the other to actually pay attention to her surroundings. He waited for a moment, not entirely sure what to do, and cleared his throat loudly. She turned then, a familiar gaze that had grown wiser to the world, and blinked up at him.

"Hello…" he whispered.

"Hello…you look familiar, like a man I used to know…" she commented.

"Yeah, he was um…my uncle. I was told I look a lot like him," Steve lied. He gestured to the seat beside her, "May I sit down?"

"Do whatever you want honey," she waved at him.

He sat on the edge of the seat, wiggling to get comfortable and settled his hands in his lap, interlocked. She watched him closely, analysing him like she had all those years ago. "I knew a man who looked like you. His name was Steve Rogers, a wonderful man. A better man than anyone I'd ever encountered before, and I fought with a lot of good men during the war...we were going to go dancing…"

Steve's heart lurched at the reminder and his smile faded at the edges. He thought he could do this, could see her again, but now that he was there, sitting beside her once more, he wasn't so sure anymore.

She trailed off into silence, her eyes glazing over ever so slightly, and stared off out the window once more. He waited for her to reply, but she didn't.

"Um, Peggy?" he implored.

She turned at the voice and blinked wildly. "Oh, you shocked me. I didn't see you there. What do you want dear?"

"Um, Steve Rogers was my uncle. I-I, uh, wanted to find out about him. You knew him," he replied slowly.

A smile crossed her lips. "I knew a Steve Rogers, wonderful man. He said he'd take me dancing, but well, we lost each other. I tried to look for him, but we never could." She eyed him closely, "You know, you look a lot like him. Are you family?"

"Yes, he's my uncle."

"Who's your uncle?"

Alzheimer's, that's what it was called, the illness that Peggy Carter had in her old age. He hadn't been sure what it was when Tony had hesitantly told him when he'd done his research under the blond's request. Natasha had helped him work Google, and he'd spend hours before his scheduled visit to the Elderly Home reading article after article, trying to understand what to expect. He thought he had been prepared, but he wasn't.

Peggy had been this wonderful, strong woman, powerful, and now her brain was deteriorating faster every second. He couldn't imagine what it must be like for her, to forget who people are, where she is, what she was doing. She must feel so lost and confused – it was heartbreaking.

Sandra was behind the desk when Steve made to leave. She pouted her lips in exaggeration; fluttered her eyelids; held onto his hand longer than absolutely necessary. He couldn't bring himself to humour her, or to even smile. He just hadn't over his visitors pass and signed out on the registration sheet.

"Hope to see you again soon!" Sandra called after him as the door closed behind him.

Steve stepped out of the gates, his hands deep in his pockets, before turning to get one last look at the new residences of Peggy Carter. He could see her through the window, staring out at the rows of flowers.

She still looked the same, he realised. The same brown hair, although streaked with grey. The same wide expressive eyes, despite the blank stare they currently held. The same mannerisms, the same voice, the same words. Peggy Carter was still there. She wasn't lost. Not completely at least. She was still the woman he remembered; the woman he had loved, who he still did love.

"I'll be back next week Peggy, I promise," he muttered to himself, a fond smile on his face. He gave himself a moment of quiet to just take in the fact that she was still there, and that his fear that he was now alone in this new world would be unanswered, before he continued to pad along the pathway, heading back to his new life, to the new world, as part of the Avengers.


If you have any prompts for Avengers stories, anything you want to see in print, I am open for requests. You can either send me a private message on here, or leave me a message on my tumblr: WhatIMustWrite

Also, I want to write more Superfamily stories, in preparation and lead up to the new Spiderman movie, so if you have suggestion, please let me know!