Lively jazz music filled his ears as he stepped into the dance club. Couples were twirling around the floor. Lightbulbs flashed brightly from cameras, which made him flinch at the suddenness of it. Walking slowly through the club, he saw groups of people at different tables throughout the club all talking and laughing rather loudly to be heard over the band. Someone even popped champagne. There wasn't a sad face in sight.

From what he could gather, this wasn't just an ordinary jazz club. No, this was a celebration. Banners hung across the ceiling, shouting victory. Men in uniforms were reuniting with their wives and friends who had survived. Celebrating their win. And a quick glance down at himself proved that he was supposed to be one of them. He was dressed in his uniform - not his Captain America one, but his Army one. He hadn't worn it since he became Captain America. Hell, he wasn't even aware he still had it.

Only that wasn't the only thing that was off. Against the one wall, two uniformed men were getting into a bit of a tussle. There were two other uniformed men at a different table - one who was wiping off a wine stain of the other with a cloth napkin. At first glance, Steve could've swore it was a man trying to stop the bleeding of a bullet wound. Another champagne bottle popped, echoing off like a gunshot. The flash of the cameras were as bright as the explosive devices he came in contact with on the field.

"Are you ready for our dance?" he heard a familiar voice ask from behind him. Turning at the same time another camera flash went off, he came face to face with Peggy. His Peggy. Not the older version of herself, the one who barely remembered him, but the one he remembered. The woman who didn't take no for answer, stood up for what was right and never made him feel less than. The woman who he promised a dance to some seventy-odd years ago. Her hair was pulled back in curls, lips painted in her usual red and she was wearing a blue dress that accentuated all of his favorite parts about her.

Before he could answer, or take hold of her extended hand, another bright flash went off. A shrill ringing pierced his ears. He ducked his head down and away, glancing behind him only to catch sight of Q standing on the other side of the room, by the exit. She was dressed in the same outfit she had worn on their non-date date. The butterfly hairpin twinkled under the lights of the jazz club and she gave him a smile that made his heart leap to his throat.

Without even realizing it his feet moved toward her and away from Peggy. The music of the jazz club faded away into a slow song - the one that had been playing while she danced around in her socks in his apartment in DC: "Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again." He reached for her, wanting to be close to her again, hold her in his arms.

"Hi, baby." she greeted him warmly. Lovingly.

"Steve," Peggy's voice made him turn - the sudden loudness of the jazz club filling his ears once more, "The war's over." she told him while he stepped back over to her, "We can go home."

"We are home." Q reminded him and he looked back over his shoulder at her, seeing now that she was standing on the porch of a house. One with a swing and a blooming garden.

"Imagine it." Peggy got his attention. Her face was full of longing. Longing for a life the two of them should've had together. Could still have together, if he chose her.

"Steve," he felt Q's hand on his arm, her grip firm but still soft, "Why won't you come home to me?" she asked, voice wavering a bit.

"You're already home with me." Peggy's hand laid on top of his shoulder. Her eyes were insistent, telling him to make the right choice. He had to choose between her and the life he wanted in the past or Q and the life he dreamed of when he woke up in the present. He was being torn between the two lives he lived, but only one had a future.

Another bright lightbulb flash went off and suddenly, he found himself in the middle of the dance floor. First he started dancing with Peggy, all classically done up and looking like they belonged right where they were. They danced liked they should've before he went into the ice: one hand on her hip, the other holding her hand.

But when he spun her out, Q spun back in with her wild waves flying out behind her and her bright outfit standing out against the rather drab color scheme of the club. Her hands wrapped around his neck and he found his snaking around her waist to pull her closer to him. She was all laughter and fun love while Peggy was subdued smiles and serious love. Both women were incredible in their own ways and meant something to him at different points in his life. And he loved them both.

This went on for a minute or two. His partners switching out whenever he dipped one or spun out another. Peggy, Q. Jazz club, slow song. Classic life in the past, modern life in the present. He was beginning to get dizzy. Dizzy in love.

Then the room went quiet. Deadly quiet. Peggy and Q were gone - as were the rest of the patrons of the club. Leaving him standing in the middle of the dance floor, alone. Because in truth, he didn't deserve either of those women. He deserved to be alone. Forever.

The warm water suddenly turned ice cold, jolting him out of his memory. He stepped back from the spray to take a deep breath in, pressing one hand against the wall of the shower. The memory of what the woman with the red hands, the Maximoff girl, had made him see was still fresh in his mind. While he had been in plenty of fistfights before, never had he had his mind played with like that. It made him feel entirely too vulnerable and he wished he knew of some way to defend himself against it.

The vision itself was something that was going to haunt him for a while. Being forced to choose between the two worlds he had lived in, fallen in love in. Between two women who were completely their own persons and came into his life at different points. And while he knew he had made his choice with Q, it didn't mean he hadn't thought about the what ifs since she left him. What if he hadn't crashed the plane? What if he had been able to live that life with Peggy? And his wonderings were brought out and played out for him like a scene in a bad movie. One that he was stuck in until the enhanced decided it was over.

After he had finished his shower, he wrapped himself in one of the towels that he had been given and stepped out into the guest room to find that a change of clothes had been laid out for him on the bed. He assumed Laura Barton, Clint's wife, had done that and was immensely grateful. A big part of him felt bad for just showing up in her home unannounced. She didn't have to be as welcoming as she had been.

And while she clearly knew all about them, none of them knew about her. Another SHIELD secret that made a slightly bitter taste form in his mouth. The secrets were never going to end, were they? Even among his teammates. The people he was supposed to be able to trust no matter what. But he knew he shouldn't hold it against Clint. He wanted to keep his wife and family safe while he saved the world. Steve could understand that.

Once dressed, he made his way outside. He needed to clear his head and couldn't very well stand in the shower any longer. Bruce and Nat still needed to wash off the dirt and grime of the battle in South Africa - and he had used up the last of the hot water. The fresh air and sun was a welcome change to the smoggy and dark, humid environment that they had faced off against Ultron and the Maximoff twins. Even just taking a deep breath was enough to calm himself a bit more.

There were two times where he pictured himself in a place like the homestead. A home with family he loved. First, before he crashed into the ice. He imagined him and Peggy settling down after the war, in a home together to begin building something good out of all the bad they had seen. A simple life, maybe, but nothing would come to harm them.

The second time was after he fell in love with Q. Visions of them having a family together danced in his dreams. Different than the life and home he pictured with Peggy. Somewhere off the grid, where no one knew that he was once Captain America. Somewhere he could just be Steve Rogers. A place he could return to after a long battle or whatever it was and know he was coming home to someone who loved him and kept him safe.

But that all disappeared. Once when he was revived from the ice seventy years too late. Again when Q left him without a goodbye. Now, he wasn't sure if he'd ever get anything like what Clint had. And maybe that was okay. Maybe he didn't deserve it.

As he walked down the dirt road, he heard the sounds of wheels crunching against the ground. Ears perking up, he looked down the path and saw a car coming toward him. He slowed to a stop, on alert. No one else was supposed to know about the homestead, Clint had made that very clear. And he wasn't about to let anyone who could be deemed a threat get anywhere close to Clint's family.

The car stopped several feet in front of him. He waited, fists clenching in preparation. He was sure he could take on whoever was in the car. It was only one car after all. The driver's side door opened, letting the man step out.

"You wanna get out of the way or do you want me to run you over?" Dawson called out, in his usual annoyed tone. He stood behind the open car door and rested his arm on top of it. The wind blew his long, shaggy brown hair into his face, but he hadn't changed that much since the last time Steve saw him.

Still, Steve's fists didn't unclench; either out of skepticism or anger, he wasn't sure. This could be another one of the enhanced mind tricks. Or it could not be and Dawson could be standing there, reappearing after over a year, acting like nothing had happened. That explained the anger.

Hearing the another door open, his eyes flicked over to the passenger side of the car. As soon as his gaze fell on her, he swore his heart stopped for a moment. Q stood behind the door of the car, one hand holding onto the top like she was trying to hold herself upright. Her wild waves gently blew out behind her thanks to the soft wind, and even though she was still quite a few feet away, he could still make out the features of her face. Somehow Dawson looked the same, but she looked extremely different. Not wearing any makeup, there were dark bags under her rather sunken eyes. Her lips were chapped and he bet the way she was chewing on her bottom lip didn't help. She didn't say anything, just locking eyes with him the way she always did before.

Emotions rolled over him like waves crashing against the shore. One after the other, in a chaotic moment before being pulled back out only to crash again. Over and over and over. Anger, love, worry, sadness, happiness, guilt, anger, sadness, joy, concern, love, love, love, anger. He couldn't decide which emotion to focus on, they were all too much. It was too much, to look at her, to see her again after a year without her. See her again after knowing what she had been through. See her again after she had left him without warning.

Instead of saying anything, or acknowledging either of them in any way, he turned and walked back down the path he had come up. Clenching and unclenching his fists, his mind filled with questions. What the hell they were doing there? Why now of all times did they decide to come back? What did they want? What was he supposed to do? So much for clearing his mind.

As Steve walked away from them, Q glanced over the top of the car to meet Dawson's glance. He let out a deep sigh as Q continued to chew on her bottom lip. Tears were filling up and threatening to spill over. While he was a bit empathetic toward her and what happened, he knew Steve wouldn't be very happy to see them. She should've known as well - what with her ability to read people or whatever. But maybe she suspended what she knew in hopes that he would surprise her. Surprise her with a better reaction than what they were given.

"This was a fucking bad idea." she muttered, wiping under her eyes and then getting back into the car. Dawson followed suit and they both sat in silence for a long moment before she spoke, "I don't want to do this."

"We're already here. You already saw him." he pointed out with a gesture to Steve's ever retreating back.

"And you saw how he looked at me!" she cried out, bursting into tears as she did so, "Fuck!" she pressed a hand against her forehead, leaning her elbow on the window. "God, can we just go?" she asked, rubbing her hand over her forehead. A headache was coming on and this reunion was not going to help it.

"Uh, no." he answered without any sympathy, "We're here. We had to do this eventually. And eventually is now, so." he put the car back in drive and started down the rest of the driveway. Q didn't even both fighting. She was too focused on Steve's reaction.

A lifetime seemed to have passed between them, even though it was only a little over a year since they saw each other last. He hadn't changed a bit. Still wearing clothes that were too tight on him - though she figured that was a byproduct of where they were. He had started wearing his hair back the way it was before she met him: in the superhero swoop. She hated that swoop. It made him look too formal. She liked the tussled hair look he had started donning when they were together - she could run her fingers through it without worrying about messing it up too much.

Even with the year that passed, he still wasn't very good at hiding his emotions from her. Or maybe he was and she was just able to see them better thanks to the effects of the serum. She could tell he was going through a bunch of them at once - always coming back to anger. God, he was so pissed at her. And for good reason too.

He didn't even say anything. Not that he needed to, or that he was supposed to. But she at least expected a hello. Stupid of her to expect something from him after taking away everything. Maybe she should've said something first. Too late for that.

Only having ever seen pictures of the homestead, it was clear when they pulled up to the house that Clint had done some work on it during his free time. It looked less like a SHIELD safe house and more like a home. A pang of jealousy went through her; she knew she would never get a chance at something like that. Not anymore.

Thankfully, there was only a few people outside when they got there: Clint, his son, Laura, Tony Stark and Steve. Not enough people who knew what happened and would hold it against them.

"Agent Proctor, hi." Laura greeted her once Q got out of the car. She was obviously surprised - why the hell would Q be showing up out of the blue to the homestead? The last time the women saw each other was years prior when Q did a home visit to make sure everything was in place and the family was safe. She was surprised that Laura remembered her.

"Hi, Mrs. Barton." Q addressed her respectfully, even though there were only several years in between them. She gave Laura a timid smile, trying to pull herself up a bit straighter and look as professional as she possibly could despite her current state. "Sorry for dropping in unannounced." she gestured lamely toward the house. Laura shook her head, holding her hands up as she did,

"It's alright. Don't worry about it. We have plenty of room." she assured her warmly. Like the mother she was. Q smiled at her and then nodded as Dawson shut the door of the car, already brandishing a finger at Tony.

"You," he glared at him, "I have some choice words for you, buddy." he let out a dry, scathing laugh. Tony's eyebrows rose at Dawson's greeting that sounded much more like a threat, "We need to have a very serious talk." he seethed out, having let his frustration stew for the entirety of a red-eye flight and drive through rural Missouri.

"Sorry, cowboy, I have a previous engagement." Tony tilted his head at him, "But if you'd like to call and make an appointment, I'd be happy to see if I can fit you into my schedule." he finished rather sassily. Dawson narrowed his eyes at him, opening his mouth to say something else when Laura butted in.

"He's taking a look at our tractor." she tried to alleviate the clear tension between the two men, "You're more than welcome to help him out." she offered a solution for her to get her tractor fixed and to let Dawson say whatever it was he wanted to say to Tony in private. He glanced to Laura before looking over at Q, who shrugged. "Or if you want to get cleaned up first, we have a couple showers and I can lend you clothes if you need them. Lunch is still on the table." she continued to offer her house and home, the Southern hospitality coming out.

At the mere mention of a home-cooked meal, both Dawson and Q shared a look. It had been a while since either of them had anything close to it. And while Dawson really wanted to yell at Tony for creating some sort of technologically charged murder-bot, he knew Q would want to talk to Steve in private. They communicated silently before Dawson took in a breath and pushed aside his pride (for once in his life) and gave in first. He'd take one for the team for now. He gave Laura as warm of a smile as he could manage.

"I'll, uh, take you up on your lunch leftovers, Laura." he rocked forward on his toes, hands on his hips, "Thank you." he added lamely. She nodded and gifted him with what a warm smile was supposed to look like before beckoning him to follow her. Dawson gave one last glance over to Q, who stayed where she was; she could feel Steve's eyes on her.

Dawson climbed the stairs of the porch, she watched as Clint stepped in his path for a moment. He had pulled himself up to his full height and looked somewhat intimidating despite how he usually carried himself. There was a tense moment before Clint stepped aside, obviously not wanting to make a scene in front of his wife or his kid but giving Dawson enough of a hint to let him know that he was not happy with Dawson's life choices - especially concerning the ones that involved Nat. That would be a conversation for later.

The Barton family went with Dawson into the house, leaving Q with Tony and Steve. Steve grabbed another log from the pile and swung his axe down on it. For a split second, she regretted her choice to stay outside. Steve was wielding an axe and he was angry at her. She knew deep down he wouldn't do anything to hurt her, but still…

"Wasn't I paying you to help privatize global security?" Tony asked her with a step toward her and a tilt of his head, "Just so you know, you didn't give a two weeks which means technically you've missed over a year of work, so...you're fired." he said matter of factly, close enough to her to pat her shoulder with his hand. She flinched at the sudden, rough touch, her body too sensitive to handle it without warning. The traveling had been hard enough on her body, even with intense noise cancelling headphones and a black-out eye mask. She hadn't had enough time to recover, which made Tony's touch much worse than he intended it to be on her.

"Great. Make sure to send me the forms to fill out so I can collect unemployment." she muttered out. He barked out a laugh,

"Oh no, you won't qualify for that." he shook his head before removing his hand from her shoulder and walking past her to the barn, "Nice to see you, Girl Interrupted!" he dug into her appearance, making her wince. She knew she wasn't as put together as she used to be, but she had been through some shit.

Shaking off Tony's touch, she tried to refocus and settle the neurons in her brain as they began to rapid fire. But being outside was hard, especially in such a nature filled place like the homestead. Somehow she knew everything that had happened or had yet to happen. There was the sound and feel of the wind. A cold front was moving in despite the season. The way the ground was a bit soft under her shoes. It had just rained there. The sun pricked her skin while the taller pieces of grass tickled her ankles. Clint hadn't gotten the chance to mow the lawn. If she could describe the amount of smells around her, she would, but there were just too many. A buzzing sound flitted by her ear, making her flinch at the sound because it reminded her of the buzzing she heard in the Hydra facility.

Steve's axe came down hard against the wood he was splitting and she jumped at the harsh sound against the rather peaceful background. Her wide eyes flicked to his and noticed how he was looking at her almost curiously. Like he was confused by how she was acting. Which made sense. She was sometimes confused by how she acted these days.

They stared at each other in silence for a long moment. She could feel that her body was shaking slightly at the overload of sensations going on. He moved the wood he split to his pile and set up another log. She could already picture the motion and the sound that would come from his axe swing.

"Please don't." she stopped him rather quietly, already tensing when he swung his arm up. He paused in the motion, eyes returning to her. And looking at her, really looking at her. God, she was pretty much folded into herself. Before, she always stood up straight - saying that it made her look taller and more professional so that more people would take her seriously. Her hands were shaking despite being wrapped around her midsection. Like she was cold, but it was a warm day out. He knew he didn't owe her any favors, but he still found himself setting the axe down on the ground. The Bartons had enough wood for now. "Thank you." she breathed out in relief, sounding unlike he had ever heard her before.

"What are you doing here, Q?" he asked one of the many questions filling his head, ignoring the one he really wanted to ask: Was she okay? She chewed down on her bottom lip before shrugging,

"I, uh, Dawson, needed to talk to Tony, obviously, and dragged me along with him. I didn't want to come here." she admitted, knowing he would take it as her saying he didn't want to see him - which was only partially true.

"You shouldn't have." he agreed with her, picking up the log he had been mere moments away from splitting. She nodded, not as surprised as she should've been by his answer. Her brain already catalogued it as a reaction to her statement. Along with others, but she was glad he went with the lesser of the evils.

"You can just pretend I'm not." she offered him an out, "We'll probably only be here for a few hours. I can stay out of your way." she told him with a tight smile. Despite his anger, his heart sank at the thought of her leaving again. She had just come back.

"No, Q, you don't have to..." he nodded to himself, "We're adults." he said matter of factly. She gave him a ghost of a smile, a joke on her lips,

"Some of us more like grandpas." she let her joke slip through, surprising herself even. When was the last time she had made a joke? She couldn't remember. He stared at her for a moment before scoffing and shaking his head at her attempt to relieve some of the awkward tension brewing between the two of them. It had lightened it a bit, but not completely.

"I'm gonna head inside." she said after a moment, excusing herself from the situation, "Wash off this red-eye flight." she gestured to herself, giving Steve a chance to let his eyes roam over her body again now that the car door wasn't hiding her from him. The clothes she was wearing were swallowing her, about two sizes too big, even though she had always had an average body shape before. Somehow her jawline had gotten sharper, skin dotted with acne scars he had never seen. Her hands continued to shake even though there was nothing he could think of that could cause them to shake like they were.

"How've you been?" he found himself asking even though she turned away from him. Footage of the cameras in the Hydra facility came back to him. While he was sure she had no idea that he had seen the things she had been put through - and now wasn't the time to discuss them, she turned back to him with a small, knowing smile as if she did know what he was referring to.

"I'm alive." she responded. He nodded, jaw clenching tightly at the thought of what she had been through. As angry as he was at her and the decisions she made, he still loved her and cared for her, which meant he hated seeing what Hydra had turned her into. How they had broken her down and left her to build herself back up on her own.

There was a beat of silence between the two of them, both of them locking eyes, wanting to say things that they couldn't or didn't or hadn't. Then, she stepped up to him, timidly placing a hand against his cheek. Feather-light, fingers twitched sporadically as if afraid of what she would feel or what he would do, her skin was warmer than it ever was. His anger and frustration rumbled deep in his chest, but he couldn't help but lean into her touch. Having gone without it for over a year, he didn't realize how much longed for it. As soon as he accepted her touch, her fingers stilled for the first time since he'd first seen her. Her eyes fluttered shut, letting out a slow quiet breath as if she was focusing on something.

"I'm here now." she assured him quietly, but also sounded like she was reassuring herself.

"But for how long?" he found himself asking, surprising both of them at how his voice sounded a bit rougher than usual. Almost broken, letting his hurt and ache peek through the serious facade he held onto for the first couple of minutes they had seen each other again. She opened her eyes at the question and searched for the small specks of green against his blue eyes. She didn't have an answer for him, and even if she did, she knew it wouldn't be what he wanted to hear.

So she didn't respond, just kept her hand on his cheek for another moment, finally feeling anchored for the first time in a long time.

A/N: A reunion of sorts! I hope you're all okay with it so far! And this is just the beginning of it tbh! It's gonna be slow and awkward and angsty for sure haha. Let me know if you have any thoughts or comments! Did you think it was going to happen differently, or was this how you pictured it? Tell me! And thank you to all those who have reviewed and continued to read and review! I love you all so very much. :)