This is a drabble that hit me while rewatching The Winter Soldier tonight. His face says it all to me. Don't hate, review if you'd like and enjoy your summer!

The first time it happened, Steve's eyes welled up and his chest felt tight, tighter than it had during one of the many asthma attacks he'd suffered pre-serum. His Peggy, aged and bedridden, but still beautiful; the woman he'd once gazed at with equal parts trepidation and admiration. She was with him one moment and a million miles away the next; the Alzheimer's whisking her off like a tide. When he'd called the nursing home to see if he could visit, the nurse had sighed sadly, informing him that yes, he would be allowed to see Peggy but that she might not know him. He'd been puzzled, figuring that she would at least remember him despite the seventy years that had passed. The nurse patiently explained that Peggy had Alzheimer's, a disease of the mind, and that she had nearly as many bad days as good. He'd read up on the disease, scouring the Internet for a few days before he gathered the courage to make the drive to Rest Haven.

He'd stepped into the room, dressed in blue jeans and a white t-shirt topped with his signature leather jacket. Peggy had stared almost through him, before raising a shaking hand to her mouth and gasping his name. He'd smiled, pulling the bouquet of flowers he'd brought from behind his back and moving towards her bedside. She'd sassed him, asking why it had taken so long for him to visit and gesturing at her bedside table where there was a collection of newspaper clippings related to his reappearance. He'd hung his head, apologizing for being late once more. They'd laughed and caught up for hours, and then suddenly, right in the middle of a story about her granddaughter her face had fallen blank.

She'd turned, raised a shaking hand to her mouth and gasped his name with wonder. He'd bitten his lip and forced a smile, reaching for her hand and holding it between his much larger ones. He'd assured her once again that it was him and apologized for being late… and they'd begun to catch up all over again. Before long visiting hours were over and he made his goodbyes, promising he'd visit again soon.

He made it all the way to the front entrance of the nursing home before he broke. He leaned against the outside wall, scrubbing his fists over his face and trying to breathe deeply through the pain. Steve was physically fine, he knew, the super soldier serum made sure of that. But it hurt. He'd come back, waited in the ice for seventy years to make this date and he was too late. Peggy had lived a whole life without him, a wonderful life, and now she was being made to forget it. Life was funny that way, he was finding out.