"I could ask you the same thing," Elaine pointed out. "I came down here because I heard you. But I'm up because it didn't seem like a very good idea to go back to sleep."

Steve grimaced. He was very familiar with that, after all.

"I see," he said quietly. "I came down here to try and clear my head."

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea," Elaine admitted. Her grip on her cane tightened the slightest bit as she shifted on her spot on the floor. "Does the punching bag help?"

Steve was quiet for a moment. "Sometimes," he admitted quietly. "But not all the time. Sometimes I just can't relax enough." He shook himself a little. "It doesn't matter. I don't need much sleep anymore."

"I imagine being asleep for seventy years will do that," Elaine mused. She shook her head a bit. "I like sleep. I like it a lot. Just... not at the moment."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Steve offered after a moment. "Whatever it is that's keeping you up. I'll listen, if you want."

"It's..." Elaine trailed off. "It's not important," she finally said, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"It is if it's keeping you awake at night," Steve said quietly. "It's important to me."

That made Elaine blush a little, but she still hesitated in answering.

"Nightmares," she finally said. "I keep... dreaming that I'm falling, only this time the only thing that saves me before I hit the ground is waking up."

Steve nodded. He'd thought this might happen. "I see. But you do wake up. You are alive. You will be okay. Maybe not tonight but you will be. The nightmares won't last forever, Elaine. I promise."

"It's even worse because I can't see," Elaine said softly. "I can't tell how far the ground is, and every second is worse than the last because I don't know when it'll end."

Steve sighed quietly. He'd only been in a situation a few times where he couldn't see, and he'd hated it. "Would it be any easier even if you could see?"

"I don't know," Elaine admitted. "It's been so long since I could..." She rested her head on her knees. "I kind of remember what it's like, when I dream. It's... spotty. I can see some things but not others, sometimes." She sighed softly. "It doesn't help any for this dream."

Steve nodded, staying quiet for a few moments. "Try thinking about something else when you wake up," he suggested. "Something happier. Maybe memories of your parents, or a childhood pet, or a friend..." He trailed off, aware how silly that sounded.

"You think it'll work?" Elaine asked softly. Of course, as soon as she asked it, it sounded like a stupid question.

"Maybe. Sometimes." Steve let out a sigh. "That's what I do. That, and remind myself who I am and what I do. Dr. Banner told me about that, actually." Steve smiled a little.

"Considering the source, then, it's excellent advice," Elaine mused. Her fingers idly played with the hem of her shirt.

Steve chuckled. "I'm fairly sure Bruce knows what he's talking about, with this at least." And on good nights, it even let Steve go back to sleep. But not tonight.

"Yeah, I think I have to agree with you," Elaine said. She smiled just slightly.

Steve sat there in silence for a little while longer before he looked over at her.

"So, since we're both up... Feel up to getting a piece of pie?"

That made Elaine smile a bit more.

"I think pie sounds like an excellent idea," she replied.

"Good. Let me go put on something a little more acceptable." Steve got up and took one of her hands to help her to her feet.

Elaine tensed slightly when she was touched, but relaxed quickly and accepted his hand.

"I should probably put on real clothes, too," she agreed, tugging at her tank and lounge shorts.

Steve chuckled quietly. "I'll meet you in the living room of your suite in a few minutes, then?" He led her back over to the elevator.

Elaine smiled.

"I'll meet you there, then," she said. She squeezed his hand gently.