Peggy remembers thinking that Steve was not enough.
Peggy remembers truly seeing, for the first time, why Steve was exactly right.
Peggy remembers watching as Steve threw himself onto a grenade. Remembers him screaming in pain and still going through with that crazy German's plans. Remembers him going into enemy territory without any training and saving four hundred men (all because he wanted to save one).
Peggy remembers the Commandos and Steve only ever failing once - when Barnes died.
Peggy remembers his tears being real and wet and all because he couldn't save his best friend.
Peggy remembers kissing him before he jumped on the plane - remembers talking to him as the plane crashed and he died.
Peggy remembers almost having something with him - remembers losing a chance at life.
Peggy remembers thinking that Steve was not enough.
Peggy remembers a lot. All of it is painful.
Steve can't do it.
Steve can't visit her.
Steve can't stand anymore heartache.
Steve can't step foot in her nursing home.
Steve can't call the nursing home. Can't look at her file. Can't bare to think that she lived and he doesn't know how. Can't stomach that if he did visit her, it would be more likely she was out of her mind and in the past than there with him. Can't talk to her family, can barely look at Sharon, can't even acknowledge that she named her two sons Steve and James.
Steve can't do it.
Steve can't do a lot.