It was dark, and there was something in the emptiness. She could feel it, (a presence) breaths away from her face. She couldn't see though; she groped in front of herself in vain, shouting into the endless void, praying that something would happen, for surely something was better than this never-ending nothing.

And then her stumbling proved successful, because she tripped over something that had not been there moments before. The presence beside her, breathing in her ear, let out a long, slow chuckle, and then the darkness brightened to dimness, and she could make out the shape of a desk and a cabinet and a shelf. As she looked around in confusion, something shoved her back and she was falling again, falling back into the nothing.

And then she woke up.

Panting, sweating, heart beating erratically in her chest, Peggy scrabbled at her blankets. They were too constricting, tying her down to the bed she was trying to escape.

There was something in the room with her.

She heard the shuffle, the intake of breath, the nearly silent chuckle that broke gooseflesh out on her bare arms. There was something there, and she couldn't move, she couldn't scream, she couldn't do a damn thing.

And just like the savior he had been to so many others before he disappeared in the ice, Steve was there, flicking her light on and crawling into the bed with her. He took her rigid shoulders in his large hands, massaged away the tension as best as he could. He guided her down onto her back, leaning against the headboard with a frightened, unsure expression on his face.

His thoughts were plastered on his face: should I stay, or leave?

The very notion that he might leave her alone in the dark with that godforsaken chuckle bouncing around in her skull was enough to get her moving again.

Her hand latched onto his arm painfully, her nails digging into the flesh of his forearm. Her eyes were manic, her breathing ragged and fast, her voice earnest and convincing.

"Don't you dare."

So he didn't, and he stayed right there, wrapping her up in his arms.

Howard didn't like to sleep. There was something about being alone at night, with the shadows playing games with his imagination against the wall, the wind sounding suspiciously like a soft chuckle that he recognized from somewhere, but where, he wasn't quite sure, that made sleeping through the night nearly impossible.

So, he managed with catnaps during the day, passing out at the workbench with Tony beside him, or on one of the sofas in the lab with Bruce puttering around quietly in the background. There was always someone nearby, never complete silence. Even the simple sound of another living heartbeat kept the dreams at bay.

And he didn't want to bother Tony with something as stupid as sleeplessness. He knew for a fact that Tony suffered from insomnia, even more so than he did. No matter what time of day or night, Howard could ask Jarvis where Tony was holed up and he would get an answer that the man was working on some project or other, tinkering away until the sun rose once again and the circles beneath his eyes had gotten the chance to darken just a smidge more.

Tony had enough on his plate, without Howard coming to him with his own problems. Howard was no child. If Tony could deal with everything he did, then Howard could deal with a few sleepless nights.

That is, until he couldn't.

The dream was always the same. He opened a door, falling into a pit of black, and the chuckle followed him as he stumbled blindly through the gloom. He couldn't see, he couldn't feel, there wasn't even anything to hear except his own labored breathing and the ever-present chuckle that seemed to be laughing at his expense.

These dreams hadn't started until he wound up in the future, surrounded by people he didn't know and things he didn't understand and God, but he just wished he could go home. Peggy and Steve and, to a lesser extent Tony, were something familiar that he could latch on to, but he couldn't horde them to himself every hour of every day, and when he was alone, the dream crept back up on him, and it was like he was stuck in Hell, every time.

Jarvis woke him up this time, calling his name over and over until the darkness fizzled away into the grey light of early morning. Once he had opened his eyes, his face salty from tears he hadn't realized he had shed, Jarvis started his morning routine. Date, time, weather, news, anything to ground Howard in the here and now.

Howard blinked away the last remaining tears, scrubbing at his face as he stumbled into the bathroom. He hated that dream, he hated it with a passion so fierce that he didn't have anything to compare it to.

He wondered idly if Peggy had the dreams as well, or if he was alone in this, too.

Oh, Tony tried. Steve tried. Even Peggy was trying, as she worked to find her own place in this strange, new time. But Howard couldn't help but feel dangerously alone in all of this. What he wouldn't give to be able to sit with his mother if only for a few minutes, her long fingers stroking his hair calmly. Even his father would be a welcome sign of normalcy, though he hadn't really thought of the man in years, now. If he could just hear his father's gruff voice, going on and on about how no one wanted fresh produce anymore and how America was going straight down the crapper and just what was wrong with all these young people nowadays, anyway? He would weep in joy because it would be ordinary, it would be normal, it would be sane.

And as the days passed, he was feeling less and less sane.

Tony ducked into the kitchen on the common floor, wondering why all the people from the past were looking so glum this morning. Howard was staring into his bowl of cereal but not really seeing it; Peggy was curled up on her chair with a cup of tea, arms wrapped tight around herself and he noticed the slightest tremor ripping through her muscles as he passed. Steve was staring between the two, looking conflicted and frightened, unsure what to do to help, but wanting to so badly.

Steve gave Tony a brief look, filled with all the meaning he needed to get his question across: do you know what's going on? Tony shook his head, taking up a spot behind Howard and carefully placing his hand on the man's shoulder. Howard jumped like he had been shocked and turned hazy, too-wide eyes on Tony.

"What's up?" he asked, his voice hoarse and rough. Tony's brow furrowed at that, and made a mental note to ask Jarvis if Howard had been screaming or yelling much recently when the others wouldn't hear him.

"You doing okay? You look like crap," Tony asked carefully, taking the seat beside Howard, watching the man's shoulders slump in exhaustion.

"Just haven't been sleeping real well, is all. Nothing to worry about, I'll just catch a kip this afternoon." Howard didn't sound very convincing, even to his own ears, but Tony let it slide. He wrapped a hand around the back of Howard's neck in a comforting grip and started stroking the skin right at the base of his skull.

"Come down to the lab with me and Bruce, we'll see if we can help you get some shut eye. Bruce is real good with all those relaxation things, deep breathing and Zen and shit." Howard gave Tony a shaky smile and shuffled after him without further complaint, his soggy cereal left forgotten on the table.

Peggy remained where she was, not having payed attention to the exchange. Her mind was miles, years, away, stuck in a black hole of fear and pain.

Steve took her free hand, prying it away from her ribcage. She lifted her eyes at that, wondering who was touching her. When her eyes met Steve's, she sighed and placed her cold tea back onto the table, untouched.

"What do you say we try to catch a nap? You look like you could use one, especially after last night. That must have been one hell of a nightmare." He paused, waiting for her to say, to do, anything, but she just stared blankly back at him, her face tight and pale. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.

Her face screwed up in aversion, balking at the idea immediately, and tugged her hand back, holding it against her chest as she pondered his offer. A nap did sound promising, especially after the night she had had. Maybe sleeping beside someone else would be enough to keep the dreams at bay?

"I suppose a short nap would be best," she finally agreed, evading his question, rising to her feet and tugging Steve after her. They settled on the sofa together, Peggy easily fitting herself down beside him, basking in his warmth and the solid beat of his heart that she could hear through his chest.

Maybe this would work, maybe it would be enough.

Of course it wasn't enough.

Peggy woke two hours later screaming. Howard woke a few minutes later in a similar state, panting and frightened as his gaze darted around the lab.

It seemed that just having someone else around while they slept wouldn't be enough, anymore.

"Howard! Howard, what's wrong?" Bruce jumped at the panicked sound in Tony's voice, making his way through the lab to find Howard clutching at his chest, face pale and sweaty. Tony kneeled beside the sofa, pained and frightened himself. "Kid, c'mon. What's wrong?"

"It's so… d-dark," Howard stuttered, clutching onto Tony's shirt, dragging him close and burying his face in the older man's chest. Tony wasn't sure that was really a helpful answer, but he took what he could get. At least Howard had given them something.

"Well, it's not dark here. Not now. See, you've even got your very own nightlight." Tony tapped the arc reactor in his chest and chuckled when Howard locked his gaze on it, smiling shakily in the blue light bathing his face.

"Yeah, it's not dark now." He still sounded unsteady, but at least he didn't look so pale anymore. Tony wrapped his arm around Howard's shoulder and pulled him close again, stroking a hand up and down his back until Howard was breathing evenly again and didn't look two seconds from passing out.

Peggy wasn't faring as well. She jerked into consciousness with a choked sob, her eyes watering as she looked around the room. There was something there, she was sure. It had been right there, right next to her, she could smell its breath, for God's sake, it was real

When something moved beside her, she threw herself from the sofa, landing on the floor in a heap. She wasn't so disoriented that she didn't think to land a wild punch in the nightmare's general direction, grinning wildly when she felt it connect with something yielding.

And that just seemed to release her from holding back. With a feral glint in her eyes and her hands stuck as fists, she turned back to the sofa and started punching. She was deaf and blind as she slammed her fists over and over into the monster. The thing that had stalked her dreams for nights; it was taunting her, laughing at her, and it was right there. When she felt something crunch beneath her fist, she felt the fog begin to clear. And then she saw just what she had been pummeling.

Steve.

It was Steve.

With a shaky breath, she pulled back and fell onto the floor once again. Steve was still moving, groaning and moaning about forgetting how hard she could punch. She was shaking so badly that she could hardly crawl away. Steve had black eyes, scrapes up and down his face, swollen cheeks.

There was no way he wouldn't be angry about this.

Hating herself even as she cowered in the corner, Peggy flinched when Steve got to his feet. She covered her head with her arms and made herself as small as possible. Steve's quiet footfalls brought him to her side, and then he was crouching at her side.

"Pegs?"

Slowly, ever so slowly, Peggy let out a shaky breath and brought her arms down, staring up at Steve with wide, pleading eyes. "What's happening to me?"

She sounded so broken, and Steve couldn't just sit by and do nothing. He collapsed next to her and tugged her into his arms, resting his chin on her head and rubbing circles on her back.

"I don't know. But we'll figure it out. I promise."

And, she supposed, a promise from Captain America was more than good enough for her.