She smiled a little sadly, “Don’t be. He’s perfect.” She ran her thumb over Steve Jr’s little fist. “It explains a lot, actually. He probably misses his mother but knows you’re his father.” Peggy chuckled and reached behind her to find his favourite bear, “Poor thing must be scared of me.” She handed the baby his bear and laid her head on Steve’s shoulder. “He’s the spit of you, though. In every way.” Peggy had thought it might have been her, one day, but she supposed there was more to be thankful for than that. It wasn't as if they were going to have children, anyway. Maybe the little one was the island's way of giving this to them, even if the baby wasn't hers. She'd love him all the same.