A/N: My muse had an idea and forced me to write this instead of working on my other stories (which I will finish!), but I like how it turned out - let me know what you think at the end :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel
The gentle music floated around the room, lulling the guests into a peaceful silence. Several couples occupied the wide space reserved for dancing, of which Steve found himself watching the strangers with slight jealousy. Sipping his champagne, he tugged on the uncomfortable collar of his dress shirt while his eyes scanned the room. Tony and Pepper were amongst the intimate group of couples, the strawberry blonde had her head resting on Tony's chest while his arms encircled her waist tightly.
The setting was lovely and reminded Steve too much of the bittersweet vision Wanda had conjured months ago. Classic jazz that entertained a more lively crowd, the Commandos laughing in the background, bright flashes from cameras to document the night, and Peggy… her hand extended towards him as she asked, "Are you ready for our dance?"
It had been so tempting to take fake-Peggy's hand and go home with her, so tempting. But alas it had been nothing more than a magic-induced tease, and here he stood in a similar setting reliving his regrets. What if he hadn't crashed into the ice? What if he had tried harder to stay by the love of his life's side? Steve's thoughts spiraled onward until a warm hand clasped over his, effectively distracting him.
"Hey," his partner greeted him, worry lacing her green eyes. He hadn't heard her sneak up on him and he tensed for a moment before realizing it was just Natasha.
Her red hair fell in soft ringlets, framing her delicate features. She had been letting it grow out since the Ultron fiasco so now it was at her shoulders, leading Steve's eyes to the pale green dress she wore that night. It hugged her curves in all the right places, and even brought out the sparkle in her eyes he noticed once his eyes moved back up to lock with hers. At that moment the blond realized just how beautiful Natasha's eyes were as he found himself hypnotized by them.
"Steve, are you okay?" Her moving lips caught his attention and he shook himself out of his daze to answer.
"I'm fine." He sent her a smile that she didn't buy.
"So that's why you're standing alone in a corner single-handedly drinking your way through Tony's alcohol collection?" Nat gestured towards the several empty glasses he had accrued throughout the night on the table beside him.
Shrugging sheepishly, "I can't help it that my metabolism is too fast for me to get drunk."
"Where's Thor and his Asgardian ale when you need him?" She quipped before pulling the nearly empty champagne glass out of his hand to set it down. "Come on, we're gonna go dance."
"Nat –" He protested, but she shut him up with a glare.
"No complaining, Captain Sour-pants," her grip on his shoulder was firm as she weaved them through the sea of couples until they were in the middle. "This is an Avengers Benefit Ball and we have to look 'happy and presentable'." She mocked Tony by mimicking a deeper voice.
Another slow song was just starting and she put her arms around his neck to pull him closer, while he awkwardly put his hands on her waist. "I don't know how to dance though."
Rolling her eyes, Nat instructed, "Just follow my lead and try not to step on my toes."
Together they swayed to the music, Steve trying his best to relax and just enjoy himself but he kept imagining another woman in his arms. Crimson lipstick, perfectly curled hair, and deep chocolate eyes filled with love… "The war's over, Steve. We can go home now."
"Steve," this voice was softer, the syllables of his name less clipped. Brown eyes morphed into green, with delicate flecks of hazel in them and a concerned one replaced the loving gaze. Stumbling as he shook himself out of his daze again, he mumbled "sorry" as a painful grimace came over Nat's face. He'd stepped on her toe rather hard at that time.
"What's going on in your head?" His partner asked him, but he knew she must have an accurate guess. "Is it about Wanda's vision?"
Natasha was the only other soul he'd confided in about what he saw that day, just as he had been the only one she told the entirety of what she saw as well. He suspected that Clint and Bruce knew portions, but Steve had been the only one to successfully pry the whole truth out of her about a month after Sokovia in a late night at the new compound. It had been one of their new rules of the partnership to be established; there had to be transparency between them so they could effectively lead the new team.
It was rather annoying at times, like this when he didn't feel like talking about it but he knew she'd beat him up until he did. To honor the rule, he exhaled deeply, "Yes."
Thankfully Nat got the hint that he wasn't in the mood for discussing it, but still saw the pain in his gaze. Like the times before, Natasha's hand came up to play with the hair on the back of his neck soothingly, like how Steve's Ma had used to comfort him when he was sick as a boy. Steve leaned down to nestle his face in the crook of her neck while Natasha murmured an old Gaelic lullaby in his ear until he was able to rid the vision from his mind entirely. It was a system they had developed when one of the two was having a bad day and needed help freeing their mind of demons. She typically used Gaelic for him while he would use Russian for her. Steve had never admitted to himself before, but the fact that she recited his Ma's native tongue to him in times of distress was touching, it was a special part of their friendship that he loved and cherished deeply.
Both Avengers were oblivious to the stares they were garnering from their close intimacy in a public space. Pepper whispered to Tony about how cute the red-head and the blond were while Tony just rolled his eyes and muttered about how he was going to lose the bet with Sam now. Wanda and Vision, who had been dancing a few feet away shared a knowing glance at their team leaders before going back to focusing on their embrace while Sam and Rhodey shared identical smirks since they had bet on Nat and Steve finally realizing their feelings for one another that night.
Steve allowed Nat's comforting Gaelic to lull him into a peaceful state, completely forgetting his surroundings. He stayed like that until the music changed abruptly to a shrill ring, pulling him back to the present.
"Darling," a clipped tone grumbled from beside him. "The alarm."
Blue eyes shot open to take in his surroundings. His itchy collar was gone, replaced by a comfortable and loose sleeping shirt. The couples around him had vanished and Nat was no longer in his arms, although her voice and touch still lingered in the back of his mind. This room wasn't the banquet hall.
This wasn't even 2015.
Four walls of flower-printed wallpaper surrounded him and the bed he sat in with a sleepy brunette snuggling into the pillow to his left. Dazed still, Steve shut off the alarm before slipping out of the bed and into the adjoining bathroom. The cold tile helped ground him slightly as he splashed some water on his face. Blinking in the dim bathroom lighting, Steve took in the gaunt look he still had even two months after coming back to the '40s.
It was just a memory, Steve reminded himself, feeling his heart weighed down by that realization. He was losing track of how many times he had dreamed of Natasha since he came back in time. Usually, it was in the form of nightmares, Steve and her being on the cliff at Vormir instead while he had to watch her sacrifice herself, or her getting shot in battle. Sometimes though they would be happy and peaceful, like the memory of that night, dancing together in each other's arms.
His eyes traced his reflection, focusing on the dark bags that still hung under his eyes from a lack of sleep these past few months. Nightmares haunted him nightly, and although she tried, Peggy wasn't able to help soothe him as effectively as Natasha once had. The only solace Steve seemed to have was dreaming of Nat and their happier times, which caused a mixture of shame and guilt to spiral in his stomach.
After all, Steve had come back in time because Peggy was the love of his life. Not Natasha.
The two Avengers had never gotten together despite the teasing and bets made by their teammates. Sure they had a close friendship – closer than some – but it worked for them, especially when leading a team or being on the run like they had been for years before Thanos had attacked. They still checked in on each other during the five years following the snap, but they had separate tasks; he was helping people rebuild their lives while she went back to leading a team.
And then she hadn't come back the day of the time heist, Clint's bloodshot eyes meeting Steve's to confirm their worst nightmare had finally come true.
Steve could still see himself standing on the edge of Vormir with a nearly empty case Bruce had given him, holding the glittering stone in his hand. It had been warm and calmed him as he stood in the place his best friend and partner had died in. The color of the exterior reminded him of her hair set aflame in the sun, and for several moments Steve had been tempted to keep it because it was the only real piece of her he had left. Bruce's words were a harsh reminder though, so Steve had winded up his arm to throw it back, only to never follow through as small voice in his head told to not let go.
Now standing on top of the toilet and removing the ceiling tile quietly to not wake Peggy, Steve pulled out a slightly dusty box that he had yet to tell his new wife about. Opening it revealed the Soul Stone, which still glittered brightly of its own accord. The smooth edge of the stone instantly brought a calm to Steve that he hadn't felt in months, not since he'd last seen Nat.
Setting his eyes on the stone once again, the connection he felt for the smooth rock flared to life again. Rubbing it with his fingers, it glowed brighter at his touch and Steve allowed himself to finally make the connection the dreams had been trying to for months with a wave of remorse. Peggy may have been the love of his life once, but she had gradually been replaced by the woman who became his partner, best friend, and confidant.
In the end, it was Natasha who was the love of his life. Not Peggy.
Clutching the last piece of her that he had left, Steve broke down into harsh sobs against the cold tile floor. Tears flowed freely down his cheek, desperately missing her touch and soft lullabies, ignorant to the fact that the stone seemed to be crying alongside him.
Peggy woke an hour later to find the ceiling tile still misplaced, dust scatted across their normally pristine lavatory, and her crying husband curled up on the floor. An odd-looking stone was in his palm and her hands automatically went to begin rubbing soothing circles on his back, while trying to take the stone away, which sparked almost hostilely at her touch. Pursing her lips in confusion, Peggy just watched helplessly as Steve held onto the stone tighter, only reluctantly allowing his wife's comfort. She stayed silent until Steve cried himself out and drifted off into a gentle slumber against the floor, leaving her to have a suspicious thought that this Steve that had come back was no longer her Steve anymore.