He forgave her, or more accurately relieved her of self imposed blame. Of course he would, that was Steve, not a man who was naive or dull but a man of a truly good heart. He had sound and logical reasons for how he felt, but logic so very rarely came to comfort for feelings. He might forgive her but she wasn't sure she could ever forgive herself.
She had lived with it every day since he was lost, the void the feeling of something missing. Just being near him, any version of him, was achingly soothing to that void. His touch was as soft and compassionate as always, though she knew he could just as easily handle a heavy weapon or, well the other Steve could have. Perhaps this one had not but he still had the spirit of a fighter.
"It only worked once for us, and I remember saying at the time that Erskine would have been pleased it was you. I hope she let you know that as well." There was no way to tell how divergent their lives had been with the way the project worked for him. But she could bet there were some constants, like her own feelings.
"So you knew her, all those years later? And she told you what had happened?" Would she have the strength to do the same? Could she recount the emotional memory of it to him when he looked so, young? Dear god, she would be a wrinkled old woman by then. Well into the end of her life, well past hope for anything between them. Fresh heartache overtook her for the bitter-sweetness of that reunion. The unfairness of it all was oppressive.
"When I was a little girl we were still recovering from a world war. We never thought such devastation could come again, let alone in our life times. When it did, I knew then that life was not about balance, things didn't just happen to those who deserved them. I lost my faith in so much, I learned life was not fair." Her eyes faded to that distant memory, then a slow smile spread across her lips, rueful and tinged with a bit of sadness, but a smile nonetheless.
"And then I met a skinny, toe-headed man who looked as though he might break in a stiff wind. And he did the one thing I thought was impossible." Her hand turned under his, as if by habit her fingers entwined his own. "He restored my faith. He gave me a reason to fight. And when I'd had a reason to die, he gave me a reason to live." Her gaze returned and leveled on Steve, as he was. Thin, drawn and still determined. He wasn't her Steve, but he was still the man who had changed her life.
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She had lived with it every day since he was lost, the void the feeling of something missing. Just being near him, any version of him, was achingly soothing to that void. His touch was as soft and compassionate as always, though she knew he could just as easily handle a heavy weapon or, well the other Steve could have. Perhaps this one had not but he still had the spirit of a fighter.
"It only worked once for us, and I remember saying at the time that Erskine would have been pleased it was you. I hope she let you know that as well." There was no way to tell how divergent their lives had been with the way the project worked for him. But she could bet there were some constants, like her own feelings.
"So you knew her, all those years later? And she told you what had happened?" Would she have the strength to do the same? Could she recount the emotional memory of it to him when he looked so, young? Dear god, she would be a wrinkled old woman by then. Well into the end of her life, well past hope for anything between them. Fresh heartache overtook her for the bitter-sweetness of that reunion. The unfairness of it all was oppressive.
"When I was a little girl we were still recovering from a world war. We never thought such devastation could come again, let alone in our life times. When it did, I knew then that life was not about balance, things didn't just happen to those who deserved them. I lost my faith in so much, I learned life was not fair." Her eyes faded to that distant memory, then a slow smile spread across her lips, rueful and tinged with a bit of sadness, but a smile nonetheless.
"And then I met a skinny, toe-headed man who looked as though he might break in a stiff wind. And he did the one thing I thought was impossible." Her hand turned under his, as if by habit her fingers entwined his own. "He restored my faith. He gave me a reason to fight. And when I'd had a reason to die, he gave me a reason to live." Her gaze returned and leveled on Steve, as he was. Thin, drawn and still determined. He wasn't her Steve, but he was still the man who had changed her life.