Well, now that the MCU has revealed that they’re about to… do whatever they’re planning to do with Steve Rogers, it’s a good time as any to admit that Steve Rogers’ ending in Endgame — time-travelling back to the past and retiring with Peggy and all — managed to make us all blue-screen, and not in a quiet, dignified way like when Tony snaps his fingers.

Let’s get something clear: yes, Steve is a soldier all his life. Yes, he has the right to lay down his armor and choose what makes him happy. But does he have to do it with a time machine?

And the “dance”: it’s pretty, it makes people cry. But it also undermines a decade of character development, contradicts the franchise’s core themes, and hopes the audience might confuse nostalgia with growth.

Let’s break down why.

*Spoilers ahead for Endgame (and everything before Endgame, obviously).

1. The ‘Man Out of Time’ Decides Actually, He’d Like a Refund

Steve Rogers’ story has always been about being “a man out of time.” From the moment he wakes up in the 21st century, his arc centers on learning to adapt, to move forward, to build a new life while carrying the quiet sadness of what he lost. That melancholy is baked into his character — it’s supposed to be there. The tragedy of missing that dance with Peggy is what makes him Cap.

And then Endgame says: “You know what? Here’s a do-over.”

The first Captain America film ends with that “I had a date” line. That loss is part of his identity, and that emotional weight is carried through his entire journey. To then un-bake that tragedy because he’s sad enough is a huge step back with a pretty bow on top.

2. Everyone Else Had to Eat Their Vegetables, But Not Cap

On a larger scale, Cap’s time-travel retirement betrays one of the MCU’s most consistent themes: every hero must integrate loss into their lives and grow through acceptance.

Tony doesn’t get to unmake his weapons-dealing past. Natasha doesn’t get to undo the Red Room. Thor doesn’t get Asgard back. Banner doesn’t get a cure for Hulk. Doctor Strange doesn’t get to heal his hands with magic and restore his former life, even though, technically, he could anytime he wants.

The message, repeated across dozens of films, is clear: you don’t get to rewind; you move forward. And up until Endgame, Steve Rogers’ story is the forerunner of this theme. He wakes up seventy years too late, loses everyone he knew, and has to build a new life anyway.

Then Endgame decides: “Actually… nostalgia gets a do-over.”

Not for everyone, though. Oh no, just for Steve.

3. Erm… Peggy Carter Told Him Not to Do This

All three Captain America films go out of their way to show Steve moving on.

In The First Avenger and The Winter Soldier, Cap keeps a little notebook where he writes down things he wants to explore in the 21st century: music, movies, cultural touchstones, etc. That’s a man actively cataloging a new world he wants to be part of.

Civil War even tries to set up a relationship with Sharon Carter. Yes, it’s awkward. Yes, it’s Peggy’s great-niece; we don’t need to open that can of worms. But it’s still a narrative choice pointing toward Steve building a life in the present. It’s proof that the “dancing with Peggy” thing was a last minute improvisation, not something that was built into his character’s arc at all.

In The Winter Soldier, he visits Peggy in the hospital, and she tells him: “The world has changed, and none of us can go back. All we can do is our best, and sometimes the best that we can do is to start over.”

The film treats that bit of wisdom from Peggy as something Cap needs in order to make his next choices. Then in Endgame, Cap goes ahead and… goes back?

Steve. Steve. That’s not what Peggy meant.

4. It’s Ethically Squishy

Now, the logistics, because they’re a mess no matter how you slice it.

If Cap travels back to the main timeline (which the film implies), he’s inserting himself into the life of a Peggy whose Steve is still in the ice, presumed dead, and canonically meant to be found decades later. This is a Peggy who might still be holding out hope that her Steve could one day be rescued.

So: does Cap tell this Peggy that her Steve is still frozen out there? And if he does, are we sure Peggy wouldn’t go looking for ice-Steve instead of settling for the time-traveling version? And if he doesn’t tell her — if he just shows up and says, “hey, it’s me” — that… erm… isn’t exactly honest?

This whole situation feels as weird as if Doctor Strange traveled to a different universe and grabbed a Christine for himself before that universe’s Strange had the chance to meet her.

Yeah. Squishy.

5. Which Peggy? Which Steve?

The movie doesn’t specify when Cap goes back to be with Peggy, which creates even more problems.

Is it immediately after past-Steve crashes the plane? Because if so, we’re talking about a 39-year-old Steve — a man who’s spent over a decade in the present being an Avenger, who’s been through Loki, Ultron, the Sokovia Accords, Tony’s dramatics, Thanos, etc. — showing up to a woman who last knew him as a 27-year-old kid who’d just gotten the serum. He’s fundamentally not the same person anymore.

Or does he go back years later, after Peggy has built her career, grieved, moved on, maybe even dated other people? In which case, she’s also not the same person.

Either way, disclosure is required. Peggy has a right to know she’s dating Future-Steve, not OG-Steve. And it would be a surprise if she chose the former over the latter.

Now, we could argue that Steve Rogers doesn’t always think these things through. The man does have a tendency to go low-key feral when he wants something badly enough (see Civil War). But if that’s the case, let’s not pretend this is some grand, justified fairy-tale ending. It’s an impulsive decision with uncomfortable implications.

6. The “Destiny Loop” Argument Is Wobbly at Best

Some fans might argue that Cap’s ending is a “destiny loop” — that he was always meant to travel back, that his past self was always meant to wake up and go through the journey only to return to the past again. It’s a closed loop. Nothing to worry about.

Except… doesn’t Hulk imply in the movie that if you try to interfere with the past, you create an alternate timeline?

And even if we accept some version of predestination… actually, you know what? We can’t. We can’t count on every Steve Rogers across every timeline to make the same choices. We can’t count on every Nick Fury to find Steve in the ice at the exact right moment. If every version of an individual across all timelines is destined to do the exact same thing, then why does Doctor Strange need to run a cosmic Google search through 14 million possible futures to find one way to beat Thanos?

“Destiny loop”? It just doesn’t quiet hold up, does it.

Also: if Cap was always Peggy’s husband in the main timeline, chilling in the background this whole time… does that mean he just sat there while Hydra infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. and didn’t do anything? Was he having dinner while Bucky was out there assassinating the Starks?

Steve, what?

7. When Your Soulmate Is Actually Just a Metaphor

Here’s the most important point: the “romance” between Steve and Peggy is built almost entirely on longing and metaphor, not actual connection.

MCU romances are mid, but they’ve managed to give us substance in a few cases. Tony and Pepper, for instance, have conversations that aren’t just about the Iron Man suit or Tony’s ego. They argue, they challenge each other, they have differences, they exist beyond Tony’s missions. At least by the end, we all know Pepper is allergic to strawberries and Tony relies on her to remember his social security number.

Steve and Peggy? We get almost none of that. Most of their interactions involve Peggy boosting Steve’s confidence, giving him tactical advice, and telling him to believe in himself. Tony and JARVIS get more narrative elaboration, if we’re honest.

If anything, Peggy reads more like a mentor than a love interest.

The later movies make no effort to show us the interactions that might’ve happened between Steve and Peggy before he went into the ice. Maybe a scene where she compliments his sketches? Maybe a talk about their different upbringings? We get nothing of the sort. When Cap wakes up in the 21st century, we never see him seek to know the woman Peggy became — the strategist who co-founded S.H.I.E.L.D., the leader who made hard decisions, someone who built an entire life without him. We never see him talk about her with anyone, even his closest friends. We don’t see him engage with her memory in any meaningful way beyond looking at old photos and visiting her in the hospital, during which the conversations are, again, mostly about her inspiring and consoling him.

Their entire “romance” is carried by a single missed dance and the tragedy of lost potential. That’s more of a metaphor than a relationship. In the context of the story, Cap seems to be more in love with the idea of Peggy than the woman, which explains his unwillingness (or his lack of interest) to know her beyond that fixed point where they met each other in the war, to learn about who she became after him. All the more proof that while Peggy is an important mark in Steve’s life, she’s never meant to be something to return to.

Also, Cap kisses someone else not long after Peggy’s funeral. Make of that what you will.

8. The Avengers vs. One Missed Dance

Are we really expected to believe that Steve Rogers would abandon Bucky, Sam, Wanda, Peter, Bruce, etc — the people he fought alongside, bled with, went to war for — to be with a woman he kissed once in the 1940s?

From a narrative perspective, it’s baffling. The Avengers are Steve’s found family. They’re the people we care about, the relationships we’ve watched develop over multiple films. This is where Steve’s emotional life actually exists. These characters are the arena in which his values are tested and enacted. Yet he chooses an idealized past over them.

From a story standpoint, it’s thematic withdrawal.

Retirement isn’t the problem. Cap has earned his rest, he could put down the shield, pick up a sketchbook, hang out with Sam and Bucky, etc. Just don’t do it with a time machine.

Bottom Line…

Steve Rogers’ ending in Avengers: Endgame might make a lot of viewers walk out of the theatre feeling warm and cozy; but nostalgia and a slow dance aren’t the same as a conclusion. And somewhere out there, the Ancient One is absolutely not impressed, Doctor Strange is raising an eyebrow, and Peggy Carter is disappointed.

The tragedy of Steve Rogers was always that he couldn’t go home. His character is not defined by what he deserves to gain back, but what he carries forward. That was the point.