Steve didn't know what to say, how to admit he wasn't really okay. He'd spent his whole life doing just the opposite, doing everything he could to prove to people he was better than he was, that he was capable of anything even though it usually hurt his back or gave him asthma attacks or made him so tired he fell asleep before he could eat and Bucky had to make him breakfast. But he looked up to her, to Peggy who was there and looked so worried. For him. She didn't care that he wasn't strong or brave, she just wanted him to be okay. And that hit him hard, like a real, strong punch in his chest, that she didn't care if he wasn't perfect or that sometimes he hurt. "Nightmares. Everyone's gone. My fault." he whispered, the thoughts a little broken, not sure really how to say it still, but voicing what was really at the heart of the worst of them. The guilt that he'd hurt people, that he couldn't save others and that he'd end up alone.