heroic_jawline | Arlington Cemetery, Saturday afternoon

Steve couldn't let this weekend pass by and not pay his respects, which was why he was at Arlington Cemetery, paused in front of the monument to the Howling Commandos. After his return from the dead and at his insistence, the fairly gaudy statue of himself had been taken down, but the rest of his men's names were still carved into stone.

He stepped forward, the hat of his service uniform dripping raindrops because of course it was raining on Memorial Day weekend, and traced the letters.

James Barnes.
James Morita.
James Montgomery.
Gabriel Jones.
Jacques Dernier.

He reached into his pocket for change--four dimes and a quarter--and murmured quietly, "I know you're still out there, Buck, but let's keep up appearances, right?" as he placed them at the base of the monument. A man in a Vietnam veteran hat looked at the coins, then at Steve, and did a double take.

"Captain Rogers," he said. No one else would be leaving that combination of coins.

Steve's lips quirked up at the edges, ingrained polite acknowledgment of being recognized rather than any real pleasure. "Tough weekend for everyone," he said quietly. "Who are you here for?"

"Buddies I lost at Khe Sanh," the man replied.

Steve nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said sincerely. The man nodded back and turned away, heading for Section 35.

Steve let out a little sigh and walked back towards the parking lot. Next stop: Peggy's assisted living center. Maybe she'd remember him today.

[OOC: NFB, NFI.]