There was something oddly ....empty ....about this house now. Liv knew that feeling would eventually ease away, but for now the house that Steve and Lucy had made their home in New York felt empty without Peggy. Even filled to the brim with children, it was still missing that vital piece that had been her great aunt.

The funeral had been a gentle affair, filled with Peggy's own choices for hymns and readings, attended by a number of surprising faces. It had certainly been a surprise to see Tony there, and with him, a few others who made up The Avengers - not there to see Peggy on her way, but there to support Steve, who was their friend and in pain over his loss. Johnny's sister and her husband had come as well, there to help support Johnny, who had been so fond of the old woman. So many people that the church had been filled to bursting, and the graveyard crowded beneath the summer sunshine as they laid Margaret Carter to rest beside her brothers.

Liv barely recalled the wake; the myriad people who shook her hand and offered condolences, who wanted to talk to her and to Lucy about the Peggy they had known. It had been a relief when the wake had trickled to an end, and they had been left in peace. Left to return to pick up the pieces left behind in the wake of that loss.

So here she was, hours after she should have been asleep, standing beside the bed in Peggy's room in the Rogers' house. Her fingers gently touched the coverlet, feeling the softness of the wool, smelling the sweetly floral scent that had always clung to the woman who was the closest she had ever had to a real mother. Liv hadn't cried, not a single tear, too busy being strong for the children, for Johnny, who had been devastated when they had been given the news. For ten days, she had been silent and strong, and now, all alone but surrounded by the memories of her great aunt, she could feel the tears rising. But they would not fall.

Johnny was asleep, exhausted from the emotional drain put on them all over the last few days. He'd really tried to keep it together for Liv and Lucy's sake, for Steve, for the kids, but in the end, his grief had gotten the best of him, and now it was simply exhaustion. Steve, on the other hand, had hardly shed a tear since the night Peggy had passed away so peacefully right there in her bed, with Steve and Lucy at her side, her hand held in his. Like Liv, now that they were home, he felt restless and found himself drawn to Peggy's room, as if he might find some remnant of peace there in that place where she had spent her last years.

What he found there was his sister-in-law, her fingers gently stroking back and forth over the coverlet that Peggy had made herself when she'd first come to New York, silent in the darkness. They had all thought that Liv would be the first to crumble among them when they lost Peggy; that she would be the most inconsolable. Yet here she was, silently saying her last goodbyes with dry eyes, exhausted but unable to sleep.

The room still smelled like Peggy, still held all her possessions right where she'd left them. It was almost as if the room was frozen in time and just waiting for her to return, like a memorial to the memory of Peggy - not the agent, but the woman they had all known and loved. Not expecting to find anyone there, Steve came to a halt in the doorway. He wasn't quite sure why he'd strayed here, except that he'd felt drawn to the room, as if it was the one place where some presence of Peggy still lingered.

For a long moment, the silence dragged on, broken only by the tight control of Liv's breathing as she lingered by the bed. "She always said that if we had a baby, she'd make a quilt like this for it," she said very softly, and in her tone was all the pain and sorrow she'd been holding so tightly to herself for days. She raised her head, looking toward the window. "I half-expected her to be sleeping here when I came down."

Steve hovered in the doorway, unsure if Liv was talking to herself or if she'd sensed his presence. He wasn't Johnny or Lucy, and he wasn't quite sure what to say to her that might give her some comfort, but he knew she was hurting as much as anyone - perhaps, even more. Maybe they were more alike than anyone realized, always trying to be strong for everyone else around them, even when they felt like they were falling apart. Steve's chest tightened at the implication in her words - that Peggy was gone and wouldn't be able to fulfill her promise, but maybe Steve could fulfill it for her. "Maybe you should have it then," he said quietly from the doorway.

Finally, she glanced at him, acknowledging his presence with a sad smile. "Not yet," she said quietly. "You're not ready to let go of it yet." She looked down at the gentle back and forth of her fingers against the quilt. "I don't mean to intrude," she apologized in her soft voice. "I couldn't sleep. I can leave, if you would rather be alone."

He couldn't argue with that, a sad frown on his face. Maybe he'd be ready to let it go before Liv and Johnny's baby was born, but no, he wasn't quite ready just yet. It didn't seem fair somehow that Peggy had lived here with them, that Lucy had been able to share so much more time with her than Liv had, but it had just made more sense for Peggy to stay with them, and Liv and Johnny had made the choice to return to Rhy'Din. "No, I ....I'm the one who's intruding. I'm sorry."

"It's your home, Steve," Liv pointed out gently. "And you knew her better than I could ever have hoped to know her." She sighed - a soft, sad little sound in the gloom, finally taking her touch from the quilt on the bed, tucking her arms about herself. In the light from the window, the miracle of her pregnancy was obvious - still small, but growing bigger as they advanced into their second trimester. "I wish I'd been here," she said suddenly, and for the first time, she felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes threatening to break free. "Was she peaceful?"

"That doesn't mean you loved her any less," Steve pointed out, lingering in the doorway, unsure if he should stay or go. I wish you had, too, he heard himself say in his head, though the words didn't quite reach his lips. They had all known Peggy's health had been failing and that it could have happened any time. There was nothing they could do now to change that. "Yes," Steve replied, his voice barely audible. He had revisited that night every night in his memory and his dreams since Peggy had died, and though he knew there was nothing they could have done to have made her passing easier, she had died with a smile on her face. "Lucy thinks she was waiting for me to-to tell her ..." He broke off, not trusting his voice.

"....that you loved her." Liv didn't need her sister to tell her that; in some ways, she'd known Peggy better than Lucy would ever have done, more easily able to read the woman's moods and hear what she wasn't saying. She drew in a slow breath, remembering something she'd promised, more than a year ago. "She wanted me to show you something."

Moving with sudden purpose, Liv stepped around the bed, opening up the chest of drawers to take out Peggy's private photo album. Flicking on the little lamp, she flipped through the pages, beckoning Steve to join her. And there, on the silent page, was a young Peggy Carter smiling at the camera, seated at a table laid for a formal meal, couples dancing in the background. One of those couples was Howard Stark and his bride, and beside Peggy, in the place set next to hers, was a framed photograph of Steve himself. "She said our father wanted you to see him get married, so she took you to his wedding as her plus one."

"Yeah," Steve confirmed, not trusting himself to say anymore than that. He thought he'd cried himself out, but the truth was, like Liv, he hadn't cried much at all. He hesitated, his heart aching with grief and a little bit of fear, as if he was afraid of what it was she wanted to show him, but if Peggy had wanted it, then he couldn't very well deny her that.

He stepped into the room, flooded with memories, as he moved over to see what it was Liv wanted to show him, surprised to find it was just a photograph, but a photograph that spoke volumes. It wasn't just a photo of Peggy, but of Howard Stark - the man who had fathered Liv and Lucy and who had once been one of her closest friends. It was a bit of a shock to see it there, to see them both smiling for the camera, along with the woman Howard had married. He found his eyes growing misty at the sight of that photo, as memories flooded his mind and stabbed at his heart. "He was a good man, Liv, no matter what anyone says," he told her, his voice a little shaky.

Steve was quiet a moment, while Liv tried to console him. A few years ago, he might have pulled away from her embrace, but he remembered what Peggy had told him and leaned into her a little. He'd never had a sister, until he'd met Liv, and though it seemed Steve was the eldest of the group - the one everyone looked to for guidance and leadership - he was, in fact, the youngest and often feeling more than a little bit lost in a world that had moved on without him. "She told me I didn't have to be strong all the time," he whispered, sniffling back the tears. "She told me ....Oh, God, Liv ....I miss her so much." His voice broke on the last word, and the flood inside him gave way.

She held him then, as the dam finally burst and the flood poured out, knowing he needed to let this first rush of grief go before he could truly share it with her sister, his wife. She'd held Johnny this way when they'd heard the news; Fliss, and Alexei, and Maria, too. Even Lucy had cried on her shoulder when they had come face to face the day after that awful loss.

Perhaps it was true, what Peggy had said about her - perhaps Liv really was the strongest of them, simply because there was nothing special about her. All she had were her born human senses and sensibilities, with no genius intellect or given gifts to cloud them. She knew pain and she knew happiness, and she loved without conditions or expectations. They needed her to be strong, and because they needed it, she was strong, secure in the knowledge that they would all be there to catch her when she let herself be weak again. Steve needed this time to catch up with himself, to find the balance between loss and life. She could give that to him, without expecting anything in return. He was her brother now, and one thing Liv had always excelled at was being a sister.

Steve felt safe there with Liv, knowing she wouldn't condemn him or blame him, knowing he didn't have to pretend to be anything or anyone but who he was. He let the tears come finally, allowing himself the cleansing release to finally acknowledge his own pain and loss and let it go. Even when he'd awoken from the deep sleep, all the shock and pain of knowing his friends had gone on before him, he hadn't shed a single tear.

He'd felt angry and hurt and confused. It was only after he'd met Lucy that everything seemed to have come together, that with her help, he'd finally been able to make sense of the losses. And then, he'd had Peggy back. Even though he couldn't love her the way he might have once wanted to, he was grateful to have had her back and even more grateful that Lucy had welcomed her into their home and their lives with open arms. They'd become a family together, and together they'd made Peggy happy. That was all that had mattered in the end. In time, the grief and loss would fade, and he'd be thankful for having known her and for the memories they'd made together. But right now, lost in his grief, he clung to Liv, like a child to his mother or a brother to a sister, and let her hold him until his tears ran dry.

As the first storm subsided, nothing had changed. He wasn't suddenly a weakling in the eyes of the sister who held him; he was still the same strong, compassionate man he had always been, with or without the serum. Gentle hands wiped his face dry with a soft tissue as Liv smiled at him. "I thought maybe you needed that."

"Sorry," he found himself apologizing, despite Liv's lack of condemnation or blame, but he wasn't only apologizing for that. "I'm sorry you didn't get to say goodbye," he added, looking as remorseful as he felt. "I know how much she meant to you."

She drew in a slow breath, calming herself before her own urge to tears came forth. "So long as she was happy and at peace, that's all that really matters," she told him quietly. "Wanting to say goodbye ....that's my selfish wish, and having it granted would only have made her stay longer than she was comfortable to. She didn't need to say goodbye, because she hasn't really left. It'll just take time to be able to understand what she's saying, now we can't see her anymore."

"You really believe that?" he asked, a little in wonder of that kind of faith. He'd been raised with a strong Christian background and still considered himself to be a God-fearing man, but he wasn't quite sure what happened after someone died, no matter what religion might have taught him. He only knew they were gone.

"Steve, how many times in the last week have you asked yourself what Peggy would do?" she asked him in her gentle voice. "And how often when you've asked yourself that have you had the answer right there" I would rather believe that some part of her is still here, making sure I don't make mistakes, than have to let go of her completely."

Steve frowned thoughtfully at Liv's question, one hand wiping the last of his tears dry. He was done crying for now, but he didn't think he'd ever be done grieving. "I never thought of it that way," he admitted, unsure if Liv was right, but too soft-hearted to tell her she might be wrong. Besides, they'd probably never know for sure anyway. "She said she'd always be here, but ....I don't know what that means." His gaze drifted around the room a moment before returning to Liv, the photo album still resting in his lap. "This room is like a shrine to her memory."

"It can't stay a shrine forever," Liv warned him carefully. "A few months, perhaps, but any longer and you'll risk never letting her go. Everything comes to an end, Steve; it's the way of things. But just because one stage of life has ended, it doesn't mean that another one hasn't begun in some manner."

"I want you to have her quilt," Steve told her, without hesitation. Though he hadn't asked Lucy, he didn't think she'd protest. The quilt seemed to mean a lot to Liv, and he thought it only right that she should have it. After all, he and Lucy had plenty of memories to cherish, while Liv had nothing.

She blinked, surprised that he would be so ready now to let go of something he had not been able to bring himself to let go of not an hour before. "A-are you sure?" she asked uncertainly. "I-I wouldn't want to take anything that you would rather keep, Steve. I know how much she meant to you."

The quilt still smelled like Peggy, but then the entire bed and room still smelled like Peggy, and his offer came after she'd showed him the scrapbook. He had a feeling Lucy wouldn't mind, that Lucy would understand and know how much Liv needed it. That was the truth of it - Liv needed it more than they did, and it was the least he could do. "I'm sure, Liv," he assured her, a small, sad smile on his face. "She'd want you to have it." Somehow, Steve knew that was the truth of it. Maybe Liv was right - maybe Peggy was still around somewhere influencing their decisions.

"Thank you." She leaned forward and hugged him gently, kissing his cheek affectionately with a sad smile of her own. She'd leave the quilt there tonight, but when they left, it would be coming with them.

Peggy wasn't a quilt, after all. She was a person and no matter how many of her things she'd left behind, none of them could replace her. "I think it's me who should be thanking you," he admitted quietly. There had been a time when that show of affection might have felt awkward, but it didn't anymore.

Liv squeezed his hand gently. "You should get some sleep," she told him. "Lucy will miss you if she wakes up and you're not there." Remember to be present for the living, while you mourn the dead. Her smile turned a little rueful as she touched the gentle swell at her waistline. "I should get some sleep."

He smiled again, a smile that was warm with affection for the sister he had never had. "You should, too. Johnny will be frantic if he wakes up and you're not there." He closed the scrapbook, but didn't set it aside. He planned on taking it with him to look at in the privacy of his own room and remember. "Thank you for this and for everything."

"I won't. I don't," he told her quickly, his heart aching to know that she worried like this. "She knew, Liv," he told her, lifting a hand to touch her cheek. "She saw it in your eyes, and heard it in your voice. Some things don't need saying, Livvie. They're said without words. Look at Maria, if you don't believe me. She tells you she loves you every time she looks at you. It was the same with Peggy. She knew, just like every mother knows." Just like my mother knew, he thought to himself with an unexpected pang of grief. Though Peggy wasn't truly Liv's mother, she was about as close to a mother as Liv and Lucy had ever come.

She held his gaze for a long moment, understanding that flicker of pain in his eyes perhaps better than he would have liked. But then, Liv had always understood Johnny, right from the start, even when they had barely known one another. She leaned close to kiss him softly, nuzzling close. "I love you."

He smiled, though his own eyes were growing misty with tears for some reason he couldn't quite comprehend. "I know," he told her softly, tracing her cheek with a warm fingertip. "I love you, too," he echoed before kissing her back, his lips warm and surprisingly soft against hers, tasting the salt of her tears.

Nestled close, Liv sighed softly, more content in Johnny's arms than she had ever been, knowing that their family, their children, were not so far away. In fact, one of them was closer than she thought. The first hint of a visitor was the dip of the bed by their feet, evidence of a small person climbing up to join them. Maria knelt between their feet, her little face worried as she looked at her parents. Though her hands didn't move, the question seemed obvious.

Liv smiled. "I'm not hurting, little one," she promised their daughter. "We're just a little bit sad, that's all."

Johnny couldn't help but smile as Maria came to them, found them, found Liv, as if she knew without being told that she was needed - that Liv needed her, needing to know she was loved by those that she loved. "What are you doing up?" he asked her, wondering if Alexei, too, had woken, or Fliss or even Bella. Johnny had sensed that there was something special about Maria right from the beginning, but he was only just starting to grasp what that something might be. "Come on. You might as well join us since you're already here," he told her, knowing Liv wouldn't protest. They had already talked about getting a bigger bed as, more often than not, they awoke in the morning surrounded by their children and one very affectionate dog.

Laughing a little, Liv eased back from Johnny, pulling the covers down as Maria beamed happily, scrambling up along the bed to snuggle down between them. She, more than Alexei, was the one who seemed to delight in cuddling with her parents even when there was no reasonable excuse for being in their room in the first place. There was something very special about little Maria, certainly, but she was still very much a child. "Should we make space for Alexei, too?" Liv asked, smiling at Johnny over the little girl's head.

"We can wait until he gets here," Johnny replied, confident the little boy would come in search of his sister before too long, but for now Maria had them all to herself, if only for a little while. Johnny bent his head to kiss them both, one on the forehead and one on the lips, a smile on his face, despite the recent sorrow or maybe because of it. He had always wanted a family of his own, and now, because of Liv, he had one. He wondered if he could ever possibly love another child as much as he loved Fliss and Alexei and Maria, but he would worry about that when the time came, when their son or daughter was born. "You didn't have a bad dream again, did you?" he asked, using his voice instead of his hands, since hearing was not her problem, so much as speaking. It still angered him what they had done to her. He had never thought it possible to hate anyone with such dark rage as he felt for the men who had hurt their children, but they had met their end and Johnny would make sure no one ever hurt them ever again.

The little head tucked between theirs shook with exaggerated slowness, all of them aware that without putting a light on, it would be difficult for Maria to communicate with them. No nightmare, though. Her small hand rose, touching Liv's cheek, and then Johnny's, somehow managing to tell them that she had been worried they were in pain.

Liv gently squeezed for a moment, kissing the blond head affectionately. "I was sad," she explained quietly, "and Daddy was helping me to feel happier. He's very good at that."

Maria giggled silently, nestling against Johnny's chest.

Though she hadn't made a sound, Johnny could tell the little girl was giggling, and it filled his heart with joy. They had adopted Fliss and Alexei and Maria all for the same reason - because each of them in their own way were wounded and needy, and who better to love them and give them a good home but two people who understood their loneliness more than anyone" "Rumor is Uncle Steve promised chocolate chip pancakes in the morning, but if you don't get some sleep, you might fall asleep in your pancakes," he teased the little girl, tweaking her nose gently and playfully.

Pouting in her adorable manner, Maria promptly closed her eyes, doing her very best impression of being sound asleep for their amusement. Liv chuckled softly, kissing her hair once again as she met Johnny's eyes. "I can see I'm going to have my hands full with you two."

Johnny grinned back at Liv. "You already had your hands full with just me!" he countered, tickling a finger against the little girl's side, as if to test if she was really sleeping or just pretending, though he already knew the answer to that. It was only a gentle tickling, nothing that would get her too riled up. It was a long time until morning, after all.

The little girl's face burst into a bright, open smile as she squirmed, setting Liv to laughing once again as she gathered Maria back against her chest, little legs comfortably curved around the swell of unborn baby as little arms reached out to pull Johnny closer. "Shhh," Liv murmured, to both of them. "Sleepy time."

Johnny slid closer, so that he could wrap his arms around them both, brushing a too-warm kiss against each cheek before settling down beside them, with Maria snuggled between himself and Liv. "Goodnight, sweethearts," he whispered, a soft smile on his face. He wasn't sure what had brought the little girl to them at this hour of the night, but it seemed she was just what the two of them needed.

Maria's hand reached up to touch his lips briefly before the little girl sighed, settling comfortably into the warm cavity between them as Liv smiled at Johnny. It had been a long night for her, at least, but she felt better for having cried a little. She would miss Peggy - they all would - but the little person drifting off to sleep between them was reminder enough that they had so much to live for. Peggy had always said her greatest blessing was the family she had been given back in the last years of her life. With all their blessings, that family would continue on, generation after generation, thanks in no small part to the woman herself. There was no more fitting tribute to Peggy than that.

((Sad little scene, but with some happiness at the end. RIP Peggy - you will be missed!))