You had just come home from work.
You were a bartendress and had been working a double shift.
The word tired did not seem to express well enough how exhausted you felt.
You were in the kitchen, grabbing a quick glass of water when you heard it.
The moaning.
You began to quietly slink to your bedroom, fearing the worst.
Then you heard the muttering.
You began to pick up your pace.
Inside, your boyfriend Steve Rogers, or Captain America was having a nightmare.
He was thrashing around.
You gave a breath of relief at his faithfulness.
Then you got on the bed and straddled him.
You put one hand on his shoulder and the other on his cheek.
"Steve?" you called, "Steve, baby, wake up."
The thrashing got worse and you began to shake Steve worriedly.
Steve woke up, swinging.
You jumped up just in time to miss his fist.
"HYDRA?" Steve asked.
"No, Steve. Just Allie," you sighed.
"Allie?" he asked, "Oh, God, Allie!"
You sat next to him.
"Steve, what's wrong?" you asked.
"Nothing," he muttered.
"That's not nothing. To come home from work and find you hitting air? Yeah, that's definitely something," you said.
"It's stupid," he said.
"Nothing is stupid when it comes to you," you said, comfortingly.
"I keep having flashbacks. To fighting Hydra. And I'm just scared...," he trailed off, "What if i lose you one day? It would be my fault."
"Luckily you won't lose me," you said.
"That won't stop the nightmares," he shook his head.
"I know what will," you smiled.
He raised an eyebrow.
You laid down on top of him and hugged him as tight as you could.
"I love you, Steve. More than I love Doctor Who," you said sleepily.
"I love you, too, Allie. More than anything," he chuckled, kissing the top of your head.
Needless to say, you both slept with ease that night.
