May, 1961

In which Steve has a revelation.


Peggy finally found the photo album she was looking for in a box in the back of the closet. How it had gotten all the way back there, she wasn't sure—it was the most current one. Well, 'current' was a bit relative. She flipped to the last page with anything on it, which contained a photo of Steve and James and the sand castle they'd built on their holiday to Florida three years ago. So, 'current' was stretching things, but that was why she was getting the book out anyway. The children had another week and a half before school got out, Steve's classes at the community college were finished for the summer, and the S.H.I.E.L.D. offices were closed for another week for renovations after something Howard had done in the lab knocked out all the power and brought down a wall. She had a nice block of time at home, and while she was certainly enjoying relaxing in the quiet with Steve, she was also taking the opportunity to get some home projects done. And today she and Steve were updating the photo album.

"Sorry it took me so long to find this," Peggy said as she walked back into the living room. She expected a little jab from Steve about her compulsive need to tidy up the closets whenever she went to find something, so of course it took her a long time, but he didn't say anything. He was staring at the photo in his hands so intensely that she wasn't sure he'd even heard her come in.

Peggy walked over, careful not to tread on any of the photographs he'd already gotten out and spread across the carpet where he was sitting. She leaned over to peek at the photo in his hand—it was one he had taken of her and the children back at Easter. Other than the memory of how long it had taken to get James to stop fidgeting with the collar of his Sunday shirt, there was nothing in particular that struck her about the picture. Certainly nothing to explain why Steve was staring at it like he'd seen a ghost.

"Is everything alright?" Peggy asked, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"I know I took this picture," he said, still looking at the photo. "But there was a lot happening that day, and I don't think I saw it after it got developed. I never realized…" He shook his head slowly, a disbelieving smile turning up the corners of his mouth. He huffed a soft laugh, and his voice was not entirely steady when it returned. "These are my kids," he breathed.

Peggy felt her eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. What a terribly strange thing to say. "Yes," she said slowly, having no idea where this was coming from, or where it was going. Steve didn't seem inclined to say more, so she prompted, "Were you expecting photos of someone else's family?"

"No, I mean, I always knew they were your kids," Steve said. "I just never…" He shook his head again. "I never wanted to think about who their father was. Most of the time I was just happy that you'd had such a good life, but sometimes when I was feeling really low, it just killed me that it wasn't with me. It was hard to be the bigger person sometimes, you know? I never met your husband, but there were times I just hated that guy. Not once did it ever occur to me that…that I was that guy."

"Darling, you're not making any sense," Peggy said, dropping down to sit beside him. She knew he didn't get sick, but she still instinctively put a hand to his forehead to check for fever. The gesture seemed to snap him back from wherever he'd gone, and he turned to look at her, smiling brightly though moisture swam in his eyes.

"It was me, Peggy," he breathed. "It was always me."

"What are you talking about?" Peggy asked, still concerned.

Steve held up the picture. "Do you know how many times I've seen this picture? In the future…or my past, or…When young me would come visit old you, this picture was on your table. I used to stare at it and wonder what it would have been like, being the one beside you watching those kids grow up. I would wonder what sort of songs you would sing them when they were babies, or think about them snuggled up in your lap while I told a bedtime story…imagine I was the guy behind the camera. It hurt, but it was such a nice dream, I couldn't stop myself. So I kept looking." He looked down at the picture again and then back up at her, a tear escaping from the corner of his eye. "I saw that picture so many times it's seared into my mind, and they're the same. The same kids. My kids. They were always my kids. That life you had was with me. Is with me," he corrected himself. He smiled happily. "I'm supposed to be here."

Peggy smiled back, understanding now, though the joy in that final statement made her heart ache for him. She put a hand to the side of his face. "Darling, after all this time, did you still doubt that?"

"No," he said, shaking his head, though not hard enough to dislodge her hand. "No, I knew this was right." He was still smiling joyfully. "I've known it was right since the moment you opened your front door and dropped that teacup on the porch. I've known it was right with my heart and my soul and with every bone in my body." He looked down and ghosted a finger along the edge of the picture. "This is just…I've never had actual, physical proof before. But this is it. Backing up what I already know." He looked up at her again and he was still crying, but his smile was overjoyed. "This is the universe that tore me away from you confirming that I was always supposed to come back."

He turned and set the picture to the side, then took her face in his hands and kissed her with an intensity that stole her breath away. "I love you, Peggy," he whispered, holding her close against him. "Always. It's always been you."

"You've always belonged with me, darling," she replied, kissing him back. Steve smiled at that, and she did too, resting her forehead against his and looking deep into those shining blue eyes. "About time the universe got the memo."