Peggy stirs in her sleep. "Daniel…" she says sleepily. She feels a hand take her own and frowns. This hand was large and smooth and most definitely did not belong to her husband. "Daniel?" She says again, her voice clearer and sharper.
"Peggy," a voice says and she feels her throat constrict.
"Where's Daniel?" She rasps, feebly trying to pull her hand away from the visitor.
"Peggy look at me," the voice says, growing more insistent.
"He was right here." Peggy feels a thumb stroke her hand.
"He's gone. Peggy, look at me," she hears the voice grow worried. Slowly, Peggy blearily cracks an eye open.
"Steve?" She asks, her voice filled with wonder.
"Hey." Steve says quietly.
"Steve," Peggy sighs happily, looking at the man beside her. He has a photo frame in his hands and places it on her blanket. Daniel. She looks at the photograph of her long since deceased husband, her free hand reaching out to stroke the frame.
"How are you?" Steve asks, his voice still soft.
"I'm not some fragile doll, Steve. I'm old, not dying." Peggy's voice is full of spirit, or at least that's how she imagines it. She sounds old and tired, but she isn't through with life just yet. She feels the mattress shift and looks to see Steve getting up. "Don't leave," she asks quietly.
"How could I leave when I still owe my best girl a dance?" Steve smiles, though his eyes are tired.
"Steve, what's wrong?" Peggy asks, her voice softened by age, the words not coming out as sharply as she'd intended.
"You are dying, Peggy." Steve doesn't meet her eyes.
"Dying can wait," Peggy says dismissively, though she fears the effect lost since she is lying in a hospital bed. "There's too much that needs to be done." A small smile briefly lights Steve's face and Peggy grins. "I've plenty of life left in me, Captain."
"Yes ma'am. Agent, ma'am." Steve salutes solemnly. Peggy laughs.
"Oh Steve," she sighs. Peggy pushes the photograph towards Steve, who reaches for it and places it back on the small table, deliberately angled so Peggy can still see Daniel. She smiles. "Life is short. I look at the photographs and I can remember every detail." Peggy motions for Steve to pick up the small stack of pictures on the table. "My brother and his wife, Michael and Jane. Sharon's grandparents." She laughs softly, though it soon becomes a cough. "I'm fine." Peggy shakily takes the picture. "Oh, and there's Sharon as a child, with Michael." They continue to leaf through the pictures, Peggy fondly reminiscing when she could, and Steve quickly bringing out a new picture when she couldn't. More photos of Michael, Jane and Sharon. Howard, Maria, and a young Tony Stark. Edwin and Ana Jarvis. There's even a sketch of Bernard. It's only when Peggy regales Steve with multiple adventures caused by Bernard that he finally laughs.
A loud ringing breaks the comfortable atmosphere. Steve looks around for a telephone; Peggy sees his eyes light up when he finally fishes a small mobile from his pocket.
"Newfangled technology," she swears he mutters.
"Tony," Steve says into the phone, rising from Peggy's side. "Uh huh. Fine." He hangs the mobile phone up.
"Duty calls?" Peggy looks into Steve's tired eyes and knows that she was right.
"I'm sorry, Peggy." Steve clasps her hand in his once more.
"I'm not going anywhere. You still owe me a dance, Steve." Peggy drifts to sleep once more. Steve stands, still looking at her. She wasn't his oldest friend. She wasn't an old flame that had been doused. Steve didn't know what Peggy meant to him anymore, but he still loved her dearly. Peggy, Bucky, and himself were all that remained from their days in the War. Steve loves Peggy, and seeing her laying so fragile in the hospital bed reminds him that he had only known her for a year or so in the War before he had gone under the ice. The world had passed him by, but she had lived through it all. World War Two. The Korean War. The Cuban Missile Crisis. Even the constant technological advances. Peggy Carter… Peggy had lived these events, and had more than likely been involved, first with the S.S.R, then the formation of S.H.I.E.L.D. Steve hung his head, thinking. Peggy Carter had been a superhero in way that he never could. And what he knew about her barely scratched the surface of who Agent Margaret Carter was.