Steve Rogers stood alone, rain pelting him and rolling down his face. He wore his old army uniform, recovered by S.H.I.E.L.D., his head bowed in respect and grief. Headstones and flags surrounded him. He was paying his respects to his fallen comrades, the Howling Commandos.
"I didn't bring any flowers, but you guys don't mind, do you? You'd probably laugh if I did bring flowers, telling me that I was goin' soft. I brought you guys something else instead."
He pulled a handful of medals out of his pocket. "You know, they presented me with these after New York. Ones from our time and my new battles. I thought you'd appreciate this more."
The medals now adorned the graves, their dull shine the only color besides the flags. "You must be wondering where Bucky is, since he's not laying here with you. Well, he's alive, around the world somewhere. Hydra, remember them? They wiped his mind, and, uh, it's complicated. Don't worry, guys. I'll help him, I'll take care of him. That's what we always did, and I won't stop that now. And I won't stop worryin' about you all, either, though you're probably rolling your eyes and saying you're fine. I - I'll be back, too. I just found you again, and I'll make an effort to visit. No matter what, I'll be here for the Fourth of July. Maybe with Bucky, if I've found him by then. I won't leave you alone. No, I - I won't."
Steve reached up to wipe his face, tears mixing with the raindrops. Then he fell silent, closing his eyes and just being in the presence of his friends. He was startled from his state by a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see a man in a baseball cap standing there, his metal hand glinting from where it rested on Steve's shoulder.
Bucky cleared his throat. "I - I can leave, I just - heard you talking to the guys, and..."
He never got to finish, because Steve gave him a hug. "It's great to have you back, Buck."
Steve withdrew and they stood side by side in the downpour, among their comrades. The Howling Commandos united once more.