Poor Steve Rogers

Nightmares

It was another one of those nights were Steve would wake up drenched in cold sweat and trembling. Another nightmare of the war. A war that in the end left him alone. He was shaking and panting in his dark bedroom. He hated waking up like this, scared and paranoid that something would happen. Always on alert and always having to fight for everyone and everything. He wanted to join the war to protect the world and look where it got him, by himself with no one to talk to. On shaky legs, Steve walked to his window and looked out into the night sky. Steve Rogers. Captain America. That was his title and thats what he was and thats what he would always be. Sure he lived with the Avengers would had come to be his friends and who were his teams mates but no one would really understand what he felt. How he felt...... He was alone. He slowly made his way back to his bed. He was tired. Tired of everything. Tired of fighting. He tries to go back to sleep but his head has other plans. So he lays there, holding back sobs and choking on tears, wishing he could be home again, with his ma, with the hollowing commandos, with peggy, and with his bucky.