N/A: I'm dedicating this to all the people who liked the headcanons posts that based this on my tumblr, replied to them, messaged me about them, etc. You know who you are, so thank you for the endless encouragement. Thanks to my beta Ashley, I know it's a journey correcting my stuff. Let's see where this leads. Good reading!

Clocks, Chapter One

"The lights go out and I can't be saved,
Tides that I tried to swim against.

Come out upon my seas,
Cursed missed opportunities"

- Clocks, Coldplay

BROOKLYN, NYC. Early in 2011.

Mornings had always been the best hours of the day for Peggy Carter. Maybe because of her time serving, during the Second World War. Then, the agent, who trained new soldiers for the battlefield, followed strict schedules, lists of endless tasks to herself and the soldiers. Things that kept that environment, the reality world inserted itself into, on the proper track. Margaret had always been one of serious manners; some gave it to her British origins, but she believed it was simply the way she had adapted to the war scenario. Her parents had most certainly been serious people, full of rules that gave life an amount of safety—you see, when you have a list and something goes wrong, you can put the blame on the list instead of yourself. And Margaret's family had always worked this way indeed. But both her relatives and the war were long gone and she still found herself held onto old habits.

It had been almost seventy years ever since the world freed itself from chaos, smoke and gunshots noise surrounding towns. The world had changed so much. From technology to dressing habits and the way people saw the other's differences—to which Peggy always found to be the best of advances, after all that whole hellhole had started for someone believing to be superior. She had adapted to this new world. But there were things that hadn't changed for Agent Carter. The first and most significant of them was her external appearance. Obviously not the most important, at least not to Peggy. In seventy years, her hair had grown, but not a single lock of grey hair had. Her face had gained at least one wrinkle, but it took seventy and not the five to ten years she had been expecting. Her body hadn't turned flaccid and showed the gravity did bring effect to people's body, quite the opposite. Peggy was still the same strong, curvy, old-school-body woman she had been during the war.

All that didn't change on her exterior, changed on interior. Her toughness, her mind, her understanding of what was to serve a cause. She was still the same Peggy, brave, open minded, willing to help the others. She had seen and lived too much though, and no human went through that much time alive, without changing somehow. Seeing others grow old, die, new people be born, and also grow up, while you stay the very same figure you had always been. It'd have been hard to do it alone. Changing places every ten to fifteen years, trying not to drag much attention from others, but Peggy wasn't alone.

Sarah Grace Rogers-Carter had been born in the 40s, daughter of Margaret Carter and the deceased soldier Steven Rogers. Unlike her mother, Sarah had changed during the years, but all very slowly. Until she reached the age of five, Sarah had showed perfectly normal growth, even if tinier than the other kids. Her first year had been especially complicated but all due the health problems the little girl got from her father. Between five and twelve years-old, Peggy faced more serious matters with her daughter. Sarah would feel constant pains and the nights were indeed sleepless. Even if the previous years hadn't been the calmest, as Sarah had the strongest lungs and the most peculiar personality, nothing had compared to the period the serum started affecting the young girl's DNA.

Howard Stark, her godfather, ran several exams on her, and Peggy along the way. In a few years, they didn't even need test results anymore to be sure they had been affected by it after receiving genetic material from Steve. After turning twelve, where children usually start facing puberty signals, Sarah started aging slower. Her body went opposite side of the age development, growing bolder, stronger, in a fast speed. Peggy removed her from school and Sarah began to be home-schooled. It was hard enough explaining all that to a twelve year-old, imagine to an entire school. Peggy didn't want to bring attention to them, neither her daughter to suffer.

Having to divide her time between raising Sarah and working for the secret agency herself, Howard and Colonel Phillips had founded, her morning habits became even more frequent. She'd wake up every morning around five, prepare tea, separate Sarah's lessons, finish S.H.I.E.L.D.'s paperwork for the day, make breakfast, wake up Sarah, eat together, teach her, leave her with Howard's butler—and her good friend, Jarvis, and then head to work. That went on for years, daily. Now, that Sarah was frequenting college—for the third time, and she only ran S.H.I.E.L.D. from a far, Peggy didn't need to wake up early for any apparent reason. Still, she found herself sliding out of bed when sunrise came.

"How come you're always up so early, mom?" In her morning's terrible face, the blond haired seventy year-old, that looked more like twenty-two, asked between a yawn. Her long locks were messy, her face seemed smashed and the blue eyes so bulky that Peggy questioned internally if the girl was really awake or sleep walking. Sarah, with the years, had turned into a heavy sleeper which always made her question if Steve would have been like this outside the war.

Many years ago, Peggy had let her long lost love, her darling, she had let him go. Never made it less hard to think about him, to remember him, she had just grown to have the memories be found instead of saddening. Sarah was a female copy of Steve, so it was almost impossible not to have him in mind on a daily basis, after and before she was born.

"How come you're always so messy in the morning?" When Sarah tumbled onto the desk almost spilling the tea she had served herself with, Peggy tried to refrain herself of even smiling at the scene. In the mornings, it was when Sarah reminded Peggy the most about the scrawny Steve she first met.

"I came in late last night." Sarah excused herself, seating in front of her mother and grabbing a piece of cheese that was on the table. She reached for a piece of bread and ripped it in small pieces with her hands. "That mission we were assigned with, it was bullshit. I can't believe those HYDRA bastards really think we wouldn't notice their recent activity in North, fucking above our heads."

"Language." Peggy raised a brow before casually sipping on her tea. She knew all about it, as Fury and Coulson had been updating her on the details. "Fury told me you got the man."

"Yea, well, her pulled a gun at me." Peggy's throat always tightened when she was given those types of details, even after so many years of the two working for the agency together. "We brought him for questioning, he didn't spill a word, he just smiled." Sarah shrugged. "Actually, he said we should have searched deeper in the ice for our belonging. You have any idea what's that supposed to mean?" Peggy shook her head, as confused as her daughter. "Well, I know Fury sent someone up. They're going to dig the area."

"He told me." She nodded. The mother made a pause and narrowed her eyes when the daughter picked up a piece of ham with her hand. "Use the silverware, for the love of God, Sarah Rogers." Sarah held her hands up and reached for the fork. Her apology smile was so awkward and yet so cute. "What I can't put together is not why they'd bring our attention there; spill that out and then the guy just killed himself like they did back in the forties." Sarah wasn't surprised Peggy knew more information than she had told. She still raised her brow at her though. "Fury sent me the report." Peggy cleared. "I can't even think of what their plan is. But they do have one very well settled."

"Fury said he'd let us know if something was found…" Honestly, Sarah didn't think it could lead them to anything. The icy region was lifeless, hard to reach and nothing could possibly exist there. The blonde thought it was helpless to look there. "I for one think it's a dead end. But it'll be good to have a couple of days off while they ice skate for clues."

Peggy shook her head at her daughter's comments. She missed Steve's optimism in Sarah, but maybe it was her own fault for that. She had been a pessimist one until she met him, but even then, it was hard changing old habits. Peggy couldn't possibly have raised a hopeful child like Steve had been. "Just give them time." Fishing for a piece of toast that had had been on the table, Peggy buttered the bread and bit into it. "I've finished my paperwork before you woke up. Do you want to go to Central Park?"

"I have an assignment for the arts class that's due in two weeks that I couldn't start. I might want the inspiration." Sarah nodded, making her mother smile over the cup.

"What is it about?" Peggy wondered with curiosity. Sarah had always been a great and talented artist. She had a master degree in Fine Arts by now and coursed Art Studio program at NYU. She already had a degree and people didn't know about it—nothing a couple of fake documents couldn't handle, so Sarah held her strings. Still, with her talent, she out stood other students easily.

"It's open, free of themes." Sarah's sigh sounded awfully strange to her mother.

"That was never a problem to you."

"I've been having trouble finding inspiration." Sarah swung her shoulders up and down once. "I don't know, I wanted to draw something I relate to. Maybe something that represents who I am. But everything in our life is a secret." The worried look Peggy gave her made Sarah pause and shake her head quickly. "I'm not complaining. I like our life. I'm just questioning my existence in an overall. I should be seventy by now. With children, maybe grandchildren."

"Is that something about Sharon?" Peggy suddenly inquired, Sarah shook her head.

"You know I get along just fine with Cousin Sharon. Even if it's weird I saw her in her mother's belly and now she's starting to look older than me." Sarah sipped her tea mindlessly. "I'm just trying to figure out why this happened to us. Don't come saying science, mom…" She warned before could Peggy could interfere. "With dad was different, he agreed on that. He went on that journey knowing all the risks. Same thing with Nat. Though I think she wasn't ever willing to that… But you and I? That was so unlikely."

"You're always so dramatic." Peggy let a grin escape, just like your father, she completed mentally with a shake of head. "We were in contact with his genetic material, you know that. You got his DNA directly. When Steve was put into that procedure, he knew there'd be risks. But neither of us knew how many. Dr. Erskine couldn't have predicted this, actually maybe he could. But it's late to find out. He created improved human capacities. We're here, Sarah, we're living just longer than others. That's it."

"Are we?" She questioned. "Are we really living or just surviving through? Because there's a big difference." Those words send a message to Peggy and, putting her tea down, the mother crossed her arms over her chest.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Sarah Grace Rogers-Carter." The full name sent a shiver down the girl's spine. "I will not ask again."

"A guy in my class. He kissed me." Peggy knew there was more, but she was unsure of wanting further details on that. "I remembered Gustave, when we spent those years in England." The guy had dated Sarah for a very long time and died tragically. Peggy never told Sarah that he was HYDRA. That hadn't neither been the first, nor the last, thing she kept from Sarah to prevent her from hurting. "I know it's been so, so long. But it reminded me what is to be actually liked by someone. On how many chances of building a family I've wasted already…" There was a desolated look in her eyes that actually crushed Peggy.

Reaching forward, Peggy held her hand over the table. "Don't you think I'd have loved for you to have children? Grandchildren running around the house, calling me grandma?" Her thumb caressed Sarah's palm softly. "But I don't think you should give up on the idea, Sarah. If you're question why are you here, why you age slowly, why the serum affected you… Why couldn't it be because the person you're destined to meet is actually living in this century?"

Sarah always asked herself how come her mother could be so strong, so brave. "You lost dad, mom. What if I already lost that one person?" Peggy always noticed how Sarah never talked genders, how she always had female friends that seemed closer than others. The idea had crossed her mind before. But the two spoke very little about relationships and she knew her daughter was adapted to the night-stands practice of this century. She wouldn't be surprised, to be real. Homosexual relationships weren't something of this decade or the previous, like people nowadays were used to think. They just were more out of the four walls than their ancients. Sarah was a versatile person, Peggy was open minded. If turned out to be the cause, she would always be proud of her daughter at the end of the day.

"I lost him, but I got you. You're my one true love, my darling." Peggy said softly, smiling, Sarah smiled too, but then she grinned and the mother knew why. "And if you're talking about something more than maternal love, you know I've been with other men along the years. Because I'm human and indeed, I have needs sometimes. It's good to be liked, loved. But my point is. All you need to be happy is yourself, Sarah. Neither me, nor a lover. Just you, my darling."

"I'm not unhappy with my existence. I'm just questioning it." She shrugged.

"I know, because you're an unquiet mind."

"Was dad like that?" Peggy nodded, chuckling. She had no idea how much. "I must have taken from him."

"Undoubtedly."

There were a few moments of silence, while their minds both lurked far and the teas sat untouched on the mugs. Peggy was the first one to break it, reaching for her drink, taking it down and bringing the mug to the sink. The cold water cracking her fingers when she turned the wrong thread, being absence minded. She cursed under her breath and that brought Sarah back, glancing her mother and grinning.

"Thinking about dad, huh." Peggy shrugged. Sarah knew she always got distracted when her thoughts went seventy years back, to the scrawny boy Sarah had seen through pictures—because even though she saw several photos of his muscular and improved self, she knew her mother always had admired the skinny figure her father had been. Sarah never forgot any of the stories about him and she admired him too, dearly.

"Finish your breakfast and let's go to Central Park. I'll go change." Peggy paused behind Sarah, leaning over and placing a kiss on her blond gold hair. "Don't take too long, my darling."

Sarah nodded and her mind wandered off again, she was also thinking back in time, though not so very long like Peggy had gone.

They were taking pictures of trees—that the leaves started to grow back with the start of Spring, when Peggy's phone rang, a call from Fury's direct line. The clock was striking eight am and when Fury was so punctual, it seemed a reason to be worrying about. She excused from Sarah and walked a few steps before picking up.

"Fury." She said in her polite tone. Nick Fury was a man she always trusted dearly and even though he wasn't always perfect, there wasn't anyone better to be in charge of S.H.I.E.L.D. than him.

"Morning, Agent Carter." He made a pause. "I'm sorry to be calling you so early."

"I've been awake for a while." That night, most of the night, honestly. "Is it everything alright?" On her short jog, Peggy found a bench to sit down. It was hard to read the signals through a phone call and she could never know what could come from it.

"Peggy, I need you to come into the base." Fury instructed, very clear. Peggy was opening her mouth to ask again what had happened when he continued. "We found him. We found Captain Rogers."

The deepest and most painful of all the sounds came.

"Agent Carter?"

More silence.