A/N: There is some fantastic art for this. You'll find it at works 554656

1. One hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin'

Captain America gives speech to crowd in New York. Photo: P. Parker.
NEW YORK, USA (Reuters) - Thousands of New Yorkers gathered today in Manhattan to pay their respects to the emergency service workers and civilians who lost their lives in last week's attacks. For the second time in this young century, the city of New York was the site of a tragedy unlike any previously occurring in the USA, and for the second time the citizens rallied to recover. One very old citizen was on hand to give a memorial speech. Eyes all over the world were glued to their television screens as Steve Rogers, the recently-awoken Captain America and de facto leader of the newly-formed "Avengers" who made such a difference in the attacks, spoke humbly of the heroics of those who gave their lives in defence of their city - in defense, some might say, of (continued p.2)

There was a public funeral for the dead police officers and firemen of New York. New Yorkers being New Yorkers, the procession route had been crowded with volunteers as soon as the city had had its chance to catch its breath; all the fires extinguished, the citizens turned up with every possible tool and cleaning implement they could think of. Their ranks held everyone from engineers and construction workers to inspect and secure buildings whose original blueprints had not included gaping holes in their walls to teenagers with brooms and thermoses of coffee. Other parts of Manhattan were still a shambles, but by the gorgeously sunny Saturday afternoon the route was clear, passable, and either safe for crowds or roped off. Being underground, the subway had not been badly damaged by what the Twitter-verse was calling #etsinnyc , and proved invaluable for ferrying construction supplies and workers to and from the hardest-hit areas where rubble cluttered the streets.

Steve rode the subway in from Brooklyn for the procession, alongside a bunch of folks who, but for their clothes, weren't a whole lot different from the people he'd ridden the subway with a few months ago. Decades ago. This would take some getting used to. Stark - Tony, he reminded himself - Tony had offered to fly him in to City Hall to save time, but he'd turned down the offer. Today wasn't about him, and being flown in by a bright red-and-gold rocket-man in full view of everyone would be disrespectful. Even if, he had to admit to himself somewhat sheepishly, the ride itself'd be pretty fun. Maybe another time. For now, he was content with holding on to a hanging strap and being just a face in the crowd of people crammed into the subway carriage. Being able to see over the heads of most of the throng was nice, too.

He let the current carry him out of the train and up the stairs onto the street and around an area surrounded with concrete dividers and caution signs, towards the cordon surrounding a stage in City Hall Park. People were milling about on the grass, but they all seemed to be behaving themselves. A small child, of that age where Steve had trouble telling boys from girls, was staring at him, so he waved. The kid waved back, and his mother scooped him up, scolding him.
"Sorry, sir! I've been trying to teach him not to stare at strangers..."
Steve grinned. "It's fine, ma'am, I don't mind. I've been stared at by worse." He stuck his tongue out at the little boy, who giggled and responded in kind. "Er..." Steve looked guiltily up at the boy's mother. "Sorry. I hope he doesn't make a habit of doing that to people now." The woman sighed and ran her free hand down her face.
"Don't worry about it. I'm sure he'll pick up worse habits as he gets older."
"I've, uh, got to be going. Nice to meet you, ma'am. Handsome boy you have there." Steve beat a hasty escape and headed for the cordoned-off area, where there was a stage equipped with some microphones and a loudspeaker. There was bunting, too, the red-white-and-blue banded with black, and he cringed a bit. He did not have fond memories of bunting. At least there weren't likely to be any dancing girls. At least, he didn't think so. Things had gotten a lot more relaxed in the future. He liked it, mostly, but some occasions needed a certain dignity.

He dug the badge Fury had given him out of his pocket and showed it to the police officer who looked to be in charge. The cop checked the name against a list on a clipboard, glanced at Steve's face, and let him in, shaking his hand as he passed.
"It's an honor, Cap. We owe you one. Welcome back."
Steve gripped his hand in return, hoping that any smudges he'd picked up strap-hanging didn't transfer to the cop's white gloves. "Did my job, officer. Same as you. And thanks."
He'd gotten three steps further on when he heard the cop's voice call out to him again, confusion evident.
"Hey, Cap?"
"Yeah?"
"Ain't that a private's insignia? Thought you were a captain."
Steve looked ruefully down at his arm. "Wouldn't you believe it," he said, "what with everything, the Army never did get around to actually promoting me."
The cop roared with laughter, heedless of the disapproving looks from solemn passers-by. "I'd believe it, all right. Figures. Hey, you! Yeah, you! Sorry, buddy, you gotta stay over on this side of the cordon, VIPs and family members only past the line."
"I'll let you do your job, officer. Be safe."
"Thanks, Cap, you too. You on the list, sir? No? Then you're general public, an' you gotta hang out with the rest of 'em. Move it."

With a wave, Steve made his way up to the stage, where he could see Tony. Fortunately the man had forgone the Iron Man armor and instead was wearing a suit Steve was pretty sure cost more than the annual rent on his new Brooklyn apartment. He was staring down at some kind of device, but Pepper was on his arm, and waved him over.
"Steve! How are you?"
"Fine, Ms. Potts." he said. "Nice day for it, isn't it?"
She rolled her eyes, smiling so he'd know she was teasing him. "Please, Steve. It's Pepper. Ms. Potts makes me sound like the teapot in Beauty and the Beast."
He smiled back at her. "Haven't seen it yet, Ms. Potts."
"Oh, you'll love it. We'll have to fix that, won't we Tony. Tony! Put that away, you can work on it later."
"Huh? But it's - oh, hey, Cap, when did you get here?"
"Just now, act -"
"Right, right, hey, Steve, you should meet the mayor. Mike! Mike, this is Captain America. Steve Rogers. Steve, Michael Bloomberg, he's running this thing, oh, hey, big screens going on, we should go sit down. You look weird in a normal uniform, by the way."

It took a while for the procession to reach them at the park. Steve recognized the route as the one that had been used for the ticker tape parade at the end of the war; it had been one of the first bits of footage SHIELD had shown him when he'd woken up from the ice. The crowds on the big screens that had been set up so that folks in the park could see the whole parade were huge and silent, arrayed in orderly rows - well, as orderly as crowds of civilians that size ever were - along the sidewalks. He guessed nine in ten of them were wearing black armbands. Good. It was odd, doing this, watching drummers and pipers playing on the screens, watching the police marching in their dress blues as though they were right there, and hearing the sound echoing off the buildings from far away and mixing with the cooing of the pigeons, who were taking advantage of the large crowd to grab fallen crumbs. Howard would have been the first to have any of this, he thought, and half-smiled at the idea of Howard taking the back off of a television and ripping the wiring out. He glanced to his right, past the mayor, at Howard's son, who had put the device - "tablet", Steve thought, and felt a little guilty for marvelling at the gadgets on a day like this one - away and was staring at one of the screen, right hand white-knuckled around Pepper's left, jaw muscles clenched. Pepper was bearing up well, stroking her thumb along Tony's gently. Howard would be proud, Steve thought. His son was a good man.

The drums and pipes grew louder and, cued by the sight of them entering the park, Steve stood to attention. The sound drowned out the pigeons and put an end to the murmuring of the crowd, who'd already been standing but made a collective effort to slouch a little less. Steve caught sight of a homemade "I New York" sign off towards the right. The procession came to a halt, and Steve took a deep breath, straightened his uniform, and approached the podium, drawing some pages from his breast pocket and nervously unfolding them.

It took a while for the applause to die down, and the blush was still on his cheeks when he started to speak.
"My name's Steve Rogers. I guess you probably know me more as Captain America, but that's not so important right now. I'm here like you are, as a New Yorker who's grateful to a lot of heroes. I was honoured to witness the courage and compassion of the police officers, firefighters, paramedics, and ordinary citizens who did their utmost to protect their fellow human beings. I would be privileged to thank them in person, but far too many of them are not able to be here today." Nor were a lot of courageous, compassionate men and women he'd known. He'd looked up as many people as he could. A lot of them were in Arlington. "Their families, however, are.. On behalf of everyone, I'd like to express my thanks and condolences to the families of..."

(cont) their planet. There cannot have been a dry eye in New York as Rogers read the list of names which will be engraved next year on a memorial sculpture to be sponsored by Stark Industries, as announced afterwards by owner Tony Stark and CEO Virginia Potts who were also in attendance. Other members of the Avengers were occupied elsewhere, said a spokeswoman."