Reality in Motion

here now

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.