A shadow loomed over me. At first, I thought that I was under water again, slowly freezing to death in an explosive aircraft seventy years ago. When I glanced up, I realized that it was just a girl. She looked so familiar, that I almost turned away as I felt a hollow pang in my chest.

"Are you Steven Rogers?" she asked. "Captain America, I mean."

I've been getting that question a lot lately, after the battle in New York City. Every time I thought of how many innocent people died in just a few short hours, I got a massive headache.

"Um, I prefer to be called Steve, actually," I replied, fiddling with my empty coffee cup.

"Oh, well, Steve, I was wondering if you could sign this." She held out an old newspaper article. There was a picture of me on stage. I was wearing my old spandex suit, which, like the one I wore just last week, was red, white and blue.

I took the marker she held out and signed, 'Sometimes, people just might need a bit of old-fashioned, Captain America'.

She smiled and held her hand out. "Thank you, Captain. I'm Peggy."

My heart nearly stopped. Without meaning to, I crushed the cup in my hand. Could she be related to her? The girl couldn't be any older than twenty.

"Is your name, by any chance, Carter?" I asked, my voice sounding somewhat desperate.

"Uh, yes, it is."

"Were you named after someone in your family?"

"After my great grandmother," Peggy said. She seemed a bit taken aback at my questions.

I took a deep breath. I covered my face with my hands. A few long seconds later, Peggy tapped my arm.

"Are you alright, sir?"

I shook myself out of my shock. "Is your great grandmother still alive?"

She looked uncomfortable. Her eyes, which looked so much like her great grandmothers', were shining with tears. I averted my gaze. Once she composed herself, I stood up from my seat and wrapped her in my arms. Peggy took another deep breath.

"She passed away a few years ago. I had visited her in England every summer."

"England?"

Peggy nodded. "She said that there were too many bad memories here in America."

I knew exactly why she had moved back.

"One day, she fell ill, and we travelled back to England straight away," Peggy continued. "She told me a story about her times working in a military boot camp. There was this scrawny kid, who was apparently the cleverest and selfless person she had met. He was quiet and passive… and tiny. Then, he volunteered to be the guinea pig of this… this experiment."

I thought back to the temporary, yet excruciating pain that Dr. Erkin's invention caused. Yet, I thought, if I hadn't been turned into the super soldier I was today, I could've been with my Peggy. I could have died with her, rather than end up in this confusing, modernized world.

"Do you want to know what the last thing she said was?" Peggy said. "'He's late'."

I lost all restraint. Tears that hadn't been shed over half a century, poured down my face. I collapsed back onto my seat. For a few minutes, I let all my emotions out. Through my mind, I thought of the last few words we had said to each other. I was on the aircraft, descending into the Arctic, while Peggy was back in New York. I heard her tears through the phone, and it was all that I could do to stay strong. I wanted to say more.

With a shuddering breath, I wiped my face dry. The young Peggy was standing there awkwardly.

"I- I can leave," she offered, turning around.

"No, stay. Please."

She sat down on the chair across from me. I ordered a hot chocolate for her. The café staff knew me well enough now, because I came here every day for a near month.

I then looked at her face, and thought of my Peggy. "Could you teach me how to dance?"