She could never forget the man he once was, both incredibly young and incredibly old at the same time, the will stronger than the body but now he’d tasted the other side of being a soldier and the body was strong, his mind wasn’t ready for the pain. Or she thought, at least. She heard tales, of course, of soldiers doing things to themselves after withdrawing from battle. Of things they’d seen, heard, done… all of it haunting them into their graves and it killed all of her to think that it was happening to Steve. She was terrified, always terrified. His fingers curled into fists held the tension and pain and anger she felt beyond the scared little boy.
Peggy was never scared of him, though. He could never hurt her. He could never touch her in those ways, even though she’d seen and felt some men do that to women, her Steve could never hurt her so she wasn’t scared as she dug her fingernails into his back, though stopped by the shirt, “Take a breath, Steve. Think. Look, and listen.” One of her hands released him to pull his fist from behind her back and pressed it onto her chest. “Feel that going a mile a minute? That’s real, isn’t it?” she swallowed, hoping some semblance of reality could filter through his haze of fear. “I’m real, aren’t I? And I’m not going anywhere.”