"You never did," he says, but there's something melancholy in his voice. "--When you go back, when we both get out of here, if you don't remember anything about this place, I want you to remember you've got my blessing. I don't want you to wait for me, not for seventy years."

A large part of him wants to march up to the ninety-year-old Peggy Carter and ask for her hand in marriage so they can enjoy what time they have left together. But a larger part of him would rather she spent those years he now knows he was gone, happy, cared-for, and loved, even if it was by someone else.