Work Text:
Steve can see his mother's face so clearly each time he closes his eyes. He dreams of her hands wiping away sweat from his forehead. He dreams of her voice and he dreams of her smile. Her eyes are always kind, just like he remembers her. In his dreams she tells him she loves him.
He wakes up missing her, aching with the loss of her. He misses her touch, her gentleness. He misses her. Years might pass, decades might pass, but Steve still misses her.
There is no one like Sarah Rogers. There is no one like his mother.