Wartime visited many a horror upon the soul. And many an affront to the sensibilities of mankind. Peggy had seen a lot. A lot. But these past twenty-four hours had vexed her heart something fierce. Her pulse quickened, and the keening from the cliff-tops seemed treble as frenzied. Until (all at once) it was cut silent. An emptiness yawned through the ravine, punctuated only by the popping of Logan's bones and the re-flooding of his veins. And when Peggy moved again, she felt a stiffness in every muscle for how tightly she'd been wound.

"--It doesn't make any sense," she ventured. By now, she was standing over him. Decency demanded that she offer him a helping hand, and she did, though she knew the ache along her ribs would pay the price for such goodwill. "How long was I --" asleep. "The code ought to have been well and truly charged. After all, we..."

Peggy's attention had been too rapt upon him as he'd knit himself back together. Only now did she think cast a wary glance 'round them. She made the mistake of thinking one of of the metal security machines had done this to him.