Steve knew it was too late. New York was going to be decimated and he couldn't get out in time. He could make it to a certain nursing home however.
He knocked on the door and peeked inside. "Peggy?"
"Steve? You're alive!" She gasped, like so many times before.
"Yeah, and I never got to dance with my best girl." It was a small thing, inconsequential to some, but he never had forgotten that promised dance.
"Of course," she replied, tears threatening to spill over, "but I'm afraid you'll have to do a little more than lead."
Steve gently lifted Peggy from the bed and helped her to stand. Familiar old tunes floated across the room, nearly drowning out distant explosions.
Their first few steps were shaky, but Peggy and Steve finally got into the swing of the music.
The explosions were getting closer. "Steve, did you hear something?"
"Hm? No." He couldn't let her know. It was the least he could do to make up for being 70 years late for this dance.
Peggy frowned. "I could've sworn I heard something."
Steve turned so Peggy couldn't look out the window. He could see clouds of smoke glowing orange underneath. It wouldn't be long now.
The next blast rattled the room. "What was that?" Peggy exclaimed. "Steve, what's happening?"
He looked down with sad eyes. "Peggy, I had to have my last dance with my bes-"
I AM SO SORRY.
I don't own any Marvel characters.
