Chapter 4: The Encounter

The days following his visit to the Smithsonian passed quickly for John, but the emotional impact of what he saw at the museum stayed with him. The image of Steve Rogers, the stories of Peggy Carter, and the sacrifice of Bucky Barnes had left a deep impression on him. During one of his walks around the city, he learned by chance that Peggy Carter was still alive. The information seemed almost unbelievable: the woman who had fought alongside Captain America, a living legend of World War II, was still here in Washington, living in a private nursing home.

The idea of ​​visiting Peggy kept coming to John's mind. He felt he had to see her. Not out of curiosity, but because he wanted to thank the woman who had fought alongside the man he admired so much. Maybe, somehow, that could give some meaning to his own journey. It was an impulse he couldn't ignore.

The private nursing home was in a quiet part of Washington, surrounded by tall trees and well-kept gardens. When John arrived, he was greeted by a kind nurse who escorted him to Peggy's room. She told him, in a soft, concerned voice, that Peggy was not the same as before. Her memory came and went, and she might not remember everything, but she was still lucid at times.

John entered the room quietly, hesitantly. There, sitting in a wheelchair near a sunny window, was Peggy Carter. Her hair, now white, was pulled back into a soft bun. Her gaze was lost on the horizon, but when she heard the door, she turned her head slowly, with a curious smile, almost as if she was used to receiving unexpected visitors.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Carter," John began, approaching cautiously. "I didn't mean to disturb you, but… I needed to meet you. My name is John Hawke."

Peggy looked at him for a moment, the smile still on her face, but her eyes took a moment to focus on him. There was something familiar in her expression. Even with the years and the frailty of her health, she still seemed to radiate the same inner strength that had made her one of the most respected figures of World War II.

"John…" she murmured, trying to process. "You said you… needed to see me?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm a captain in the Special Forces, in the Green Berets, and I've always greatly admired the work you did… and what Steve Rogers did and stood for. He was a great inspiration to me." John gave a soft smile. "I just wanted to say that in person."

Peggy tilted her head to the side, her eyes now more attentive, as if John's words had pulled her back to the present.

"Steve…" she whispered, her lips forming a delicate, nostalgic smile. "Steve Rogers. He was… very special." Peggy looked at the young soldier in front of her. "A captain, you say? Do you… serve like he did?"

John nodded, feeling the weight of the comparison. "Yes, ma'am. I… try."

He was always someone who inspired me to put my teammates first, to take care of my men, just like he took care of the Howling Commandos.

Peggy kept looking at him, as if she were seeing something beyond his uniform.

"Steve… always believed in people. He believed in you, even if you didn't believe in yourself yet." Her voice was soft, but full of memories. "War shaped us… all of us. But Steve… he was special. He never left anyone behind."

She smiled once more.

"And it seems you don't either."

"I try to do my best," John replied humbly. "I don't have his skills, of course, but… I try to follow the example he left."

Peggy watched him for a moment, as if she were evaluating his words. There was a clarity in her eyes that John hadn't expected. It was as if, even with time and the hardships of age, she could still see who he really was.

"What makes a great soldier… isn't the serum or the strength," Peggy said, more lucid than ever. "It's the heart. Steve was like that, and I feel like you are too."

John felt a lump in his throat at those words. Here was Peggy Carter, a woman who had known the real Captain America, and she was comparing him to him. Not for his power or fame, but for his leadership and the care he had for his men. That meant more to him than any medal or promotion he could ever receive.

Peggy looked away for a moment, as if lost in her own memories again. John respectfully remained silent, waiting for her to come back to the present, but not wanting to force anything. After a few moments, Peggy looked at him again, her expression soft.

"Do I know you?" she asked suddenly, her tone slightly confused.

John smiled sadly. "No, ma'am. I'm just a young soldier, inspired by the stories of your time."

Peggy nodded slowly, as if processing the words. She reached out a trembling hand and touched John's, a gesture of kindness and affection.

"It's good… to see young men like you… following the right path," she said with a genuine smile. "Steve would have been proud."

"That means a lot to me, ma'am. I just hope I can live up to his legacy one day."

Peggy smiled again, though her expression was a little distant, as if she were looking back into the past. John noticed that those moments of clarity came and went quickly. There was a comfortable silence between them, the kind of silence that didn't require words but was filled with respect and understanding.

"I've heard a lot about your work with S.H.I.E.L.D." John continued, breaking the silence gently. "You were one of the founders, weren't you? It must have been quite a challenge."

"Oh, yes… S.H.I.E.L.D…" Peggy murmured, her eyes shining with memories again. "So many struggles… so many difficult decisions… But it was necessary. The world needed an organization that could… keep the peace… that did what was right."

John nodded, feeling deeply connected to that story. He knew that the world he lived in today was largely shaped by the actions of people like Peggy, Steve, and the other heroes of that time. He, like many others, was reaping the rewards of what they had sown decades ago.

As time passed, Peggy began to speak more erratically, her memories blurring together and, at times, becoming completely lost. Even so, John remained by her side, listening attentively and respectfully. She spoke of the war, of the Howling Commandos, and even mentioned Howard Stark, as if it had all happened yesterday. There was something comforting about being there, hearing those stories directly from someone who had lived them.

Finally, after a long moment of silence, Peggy looked at him again, with a sweet smile.

"Thank you… for coming to see me, John," she said, her voice soft, almost maternal. "Not every day is so bright for me… but today, I am happy. You brought back good memories."

John took her hand gently. "The pleasure was all mine, ma'am." I feel honored to have been able to meet you.

"Come visit me more often, will you?" she asked, her voice full of warmth. "I like talking to young people like you. It's good for the heart."

"I promise!" John replied with a sincere smile.

As he prepared to leave, John looked at Peggy one last time, feeling an unexpected peace. He knew that this encounter would stay with him forever, a reminder that the legacy of Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter went far beyond the battles they fought. It was about how they inspired the generations that followed, to never give up and to always believe in what was right.

As he left the clinic, John looked up at the clear blue sky of Washington and took a deep breath. He wasn't Steve Rogers, and he never would be, but he was on the right path, and that, for him, was enough.