'Why does it always rain when you mourn?' Steve thought absently, staring at the darkened sky with pity, huddling closer to Banner beneath the black umbrella. Bruce made a fleeting glance at him before gazing back to the headstone that lay in silence only a few feet away, nudging closer to the Captain to keep dry as the rain pelted the large stone slab. The bright flowers dimmed in the dark weather, and none could bear to keep a happy thought as the floral arrangement got battered with rain drops, petals beginning to peel from the tight bud. None uttered a word; even Tony Stark stood in solemn stillness, wrapping a reassuring arm around Pepper as she cried into his shoulder.

Thor was the first to peel off, taking Jane, Darcy, and Erik along with him. The next was Clint and Natasha, who caressed the gravestone affectionately before departing without a sound. A few nameless agents departed as well, tears hidden in the rain that poured from the sky and swollen red eyes concealed effectively behind dark tinted Aviators. None of Coulson's counterparts seemed to notice, even less care, as their once crisp black suits were now drenched and sagged heavily on their fit bodies and sloshed lightly as they made their leave.

After many more moments Tony and Pepper made their swift exit, Stark shuttling the sobbing woman into one of his many sports cars and driving off without another word. Only three men remained; Steve gritted his teeth as the name of a man he barely knew grabbed at his soul, Banner's eyes exchanging from the Captain to Fury, who stood in the downpour, hands clasped behind his back as his good eye scanned the granite slate.

As the commander took his place beside Rogers, Bruce moved forward to touch the stone in respect. As he moved back he held the parasol out to the blond, who shook his head. Banner nodded before ascending down the hill, eyes cast down to ensure stable footing on the muddied earth.

The two men stood in silence as their clothes clung to their bodies, rain pelting their beings but neither uttering a complaint. "He was a good man, Rogers. It was a shame you never got to know him well." Fury muttered, watching the letters intently as if they were to change. Of course they never would, but neither stopped looking at the grave with unreadable emotions plastered on their faces.

"I've heard, sir." The statement was drawn out painfully slow as a hand squeezed his shoulder, the commander turning from the site and left the Captain alone in his thoughts.

Captain America kneeled before the gravestone, his fingers gently tracing the rough black letters that etched themselves neatly into the grey rock. 'Phil Coulson' he outlined, sighing. "I've heard much about you, son. Good things indeed. A rebel at times, but loyal and trustworthy. You'd have made a fine soldier, Coulson." He muttered to the slab, slicking the stray strands of his hair from his face.

So much he wished to have known this man, this Phil Coulson, this man who knew everything about him, but he himself knew nothing about in return. He wished that he had paid more attention to his mindless drabble and his quirky outbursts, listening to the man who had idolized him instead of standing there awkwardly without a reply. He wished…

He wished he could have saved this man.

"Coulson, I'm sorry. I know it is far too late… but thank you for your respect. Thank you for… for being on my side when I awoke from the ice. I think that your enthusiasm about me made me dread this new age less, making me remember that there is still good men in this dark world. Thank you, soldier. You are my idol." Steve Rogers said with the utmost sincerity, shedding a tear for a man he knew not of, but held in the highest regard.

"I've got a present for you, son." Captain whispered, fishing a small black box from his saturated suit pocket. He held it before the grave with a small smile. "Just like you asked. Stark made this box especially for your cards, so the color and the state you left them in will never tarnish. I signed them for you, Coulson."

Steve proceeded to dig a small ditch a couple of inches below the tombstone, his muddied fingers moving with precision to extract the murky dirt from the soft ground. When he reached the desired depth he lowered the case into the hole, shoveling the muddy earth back into the dip. He held a hand out in the rain to wash away the grime, slowly standing to tower over the gravestone, his eyes never peeling from the name that etched itself into his memory.

He stood proud and tall in the downpour, his hand shooting to is forehead in a final salute. He stood there for a few moments, a great feeling of calm showering over him as Coulson got the send off he deserved. Roger's hand slowly lowered to his side as his lip quirked into a small grin. "They're vintage, as you told me before, so take good care of them."

Then Captain America descended down the hill, his heels digging into the soft ground he walked upon, making sure not to step on any of the graves that stood in his path. He shoved his hands into his pockets, silence once again filling the air, but the atmosphere ten shades lighter. Steve made note of that fact, and as he finally made it to the asphalt driveways where a car waited for him he looked back.

The sun broke through the clouds as the rain receded, a vibrant rainbow dancing gently above the hill where the fallen agent was laid to rest. The darkness in the clouds dispersed, leaving only the blue sky and the marvelous sun that peeked through the thinning mist. A true, large smile crept onto the Captain's face as he witnessed this spectacle, knowing his words had not gone unheard.

"I knew you would, Coulson."

So please review and tell me how you feel... This was totally out of my element, but i think I did alright.

Your fellow fanfictioner,

~ILJA~