Author's Notes: Here I am, trying to finish two different longfics, one of which concludes a FOUR-YEAR series...and I just can't get those final scenes of Infinity War out of my head.

SPOILER ALERT - Seriously, this is your last warning. If you don't want to be thoroughly and completely spoiled, hit the Back button now!

Canon Note: Like most of the movies, Infinity War skimped on the emotional reactions of the characters who lived and a proper reaction to the ones who died in the Snap. Particularly Sam Wilson, and that cannot stand. Here follows my gap-filler. Probably the first of several, all loosely-connected to the immediate aftermath for a badly-needed dose of catharsis.

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Steve Rogers had seen soldiers die before. He'd seen civilians, men, women, and children, die before. Far too many times, for that matter.

He'd once even thought he'd seen Bucky die before.

But what had just happened…the confusion, the shock, then a human being simply dissolving into ash before Steve's eyes…it was too strange, too sudden for his mind to comprehend, and he'd seen some pretty damn strange things in his lifetime.

Next to Vision's colorless body lay another patch of ash, just like the one Bucky had become.

Thanos wanted to destroy half the lives in the universe… that's it? Just a snap of the fingers?

No, no, it couldn't possibly be that vast, that total. The purple bastard must have just gone after the men and women who'd challenged him. That had to be it.

Someone was shouting nearby, a familiar voice, desperate. Steve didn't know much Wakandan, though he'd tried to learn a little in the free time he had. Bucky was almost fluent.

Bucky was almost fluent? Or had been?

He recognized General Okoye's voice, even though she sounded as horrified and desperate as Steve felt, and the he recognized what she shouted because he'd heard it spoken enough in the palace on his visits: "Wam kumkani!"

My king…

The leader of the T'Challa's bodyguards, charged with protecting him above everything else, cried out for her king once more, bewildered, desperate…then she fell silent.

Out on the battlefield, there were no more roars of slavering monsters or the rumbles of ships, but there were shouts and calls – the Wakandans calling and calling to each other, confused, unable to understand.

Bruce breathed, "I saw…Wanda, she just…disappeared, dissolved. And there were people back on the field, they were turning to dust!"

And Steve knew. This is everywhere. It's just…done. Half of the lives in…the world? The galaxy, the universe? Just…reduced to ash?

"Oh God."

Thor was the one who knelt beside Vision and gently lifted his torso to free his now-gray cloak, and draped it over him. Somehow, that reminded Steve how to move.

He pulled himself up onto his knees. Think, Rogers. Think. What now?

Bruce was here, Thor, Nat, Rhodey…who else was missing…?

Sam…

He tapped his com. "Sam, come in?"

Silence.

"Sam?"

Rhodey murmured, "I couldn't find him."

Energy that'd drained away from shock burst back into Steve's body, and he scrambled upright, sucked dry air into his lungs and bellowed, "SAM! SAM, WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"Steve…" Nat murmured, but Steve didn't look at her. He knew what she wanted to say, but he couldn't hear it. He just started walking.

"Sam, come in?" Rhodey tried his com. No answer.

"Might've been an EMP," Steve muttered. "Maybe the coms are down."

"He got thrown that way." Rhodey pointed, and Steve trudged with him, past the…patch, where a gun and ash-dusted ground were all that remained of Bucky. Steve stared at it as they passed, but he didn't stop.

Bucky was…gone. Sam had to still be here somewhere in these woods, he had to be. He was probably hurt. He probably needed medical – Okoye came out of the undergrowth, walking stiffly, mechanical as if she'd forgotten how to move and was having to concentrate on it.

Steve knew the feeling. "Where's T'Challa?" he asked.

She didn't say a word, just stared at Steve with horror and disbelief in her eyes that was all the answer Steve needed. T'Challa too. T'Challa, and God knows how many of his people.

Okoye turned slowly back towards the field. She'd have to go tell them their king was dead. Did she know what lay ahead of her? Did she have any idea of the scale of it?

Steve wanted to tell her, even held out a hand to stop her, but the sound that came out of his throat was just a weak croak, and she didn't look at him again. She just walked, slow and methodical, towards whatever came next.

Steve and Rhodey turned back to the woods and kept on looking. Even as slow as she was moving, it would only take Okoye a moment or two to clear the trees and see what was left – or not left – of her people on that battlefield.

She didn't make another sound. They could hear shouts and calls, also wails and screams of anguish in the distance, but nothing close by.

They kept looking, digging through the undergrowth, peering through the trees. They spun around with a surge of hope when they heard footsteps approaching – but it was only Thor, with a dazed Bruce out of armor a few paces behind him. "My friends." His voice sounded like he was dragging the words out with the last air in his lungs. "I fear our friend Sam is gone too."

Steve shook his head immediately. "No. No, we'll find him."

As they turned back to their search, that…walking, talking, gun-slinging raccoon came up behind Thor, holding Bucky's gun. Steve looked away. "This belong to someone?" he heard the raccoon say.

Steve wished he couldn't hear Bruce answering. "It – it was Bucky's. Steve's friend, his best friend."

"Oh." Steve flinched when the raccoon caught up with them and held the gun out. "You want this?" Steve backed up. He couldn't answer.

The raccoon shrugged and wandered away, and Steve figured he'd take the gun, but instead, the raccoon put it carefully back on the ground, right where it had fallen. Steve turned away faster and stumbled. Rhodey caught his elbow to steady him.

Bucky was… but Sam wasn't. Steve had seen Bucky…go. Not Sam. So Sam must still be here somewhere.

They skimmed the edge of the forest and unconsciously started assuming a more methodical search pattern, covering the ground, but in the process, they had to see the battlefield.

There were civilians out there now, people calling out names, crying out to each other. M'Baku and a few Dora Milaje were trudging in the midst of it, giving orders. A warrior from the Border Tribe brought a civilian woman to what looked like just a bare patch of ground amid the fallen invaders, but then she threw herself down with a howl. Rocking back, she had a cloak in her arms. It would've been vivid blues and colors; Steve had admired their craftsmanship when he saw them up close. But it was gray with ash. The warrior stood with his hand on her back as she wailed.

Wife? Daughter? Sister?

Steve and Rhodey turned away and continued searching.

Sam had to be here. There had to be a sign of him. Something, if he'd disappeared, something would be left. Bucky's gun had fallen to the ground. Cloaks and weapons littered the battlefield.

There's no sign of Wanda or T'Challa, the half-dead rational side of Steve reminded him, but he shoved it out of his mind. It was too much, too many good people, too many innocent people who'd only tried to defend their homes and defend their world and do the right thing. Not Sam too. Sam had to be somewhere.

They were working their way back towards the Avengers as the sun set. Bright floodlights now illuminated the battlefield as the Wakandans carried out the same search. The cries and screams and roars of rage went on as more people joined in searches for their friends or their families. Some found bodies of men or women who'd died fighting before Thanos had struck. They quieted and calmed faster, gently arranging their loved ones and calling for stretchers to carry them.

There were some wounded and still alive. That gave Steve the first pang of something like hope in hours. There were shouts and rushes of movement when a living person was found; everyone around him or her dropped their search to help. Wakandan medics appeared and soon one of those amazing hover shuttles flew down to whisk the injured away.

As full darkness descended, Rhodey stopped. He made a noise in his throat, a little like Steve had when they'd met Okoye, like he'd forgotten how to use his voice. Steve looked where he was looking and saw it:

In the shadows of leaves, something glinted red, but like glass, not like the armor the Dora Milaje wore.

Like the shiny red accents of Sam's suit and goggles.

Steve tried to run, but it was more like a stagger, and they fell into the same area they'd been searching before, where Rhodey thought he'd seen Sam thrown by Thanos.

They'd seen nothing in the daylight, but the lights illuminating the battlefield reflected off something half-buried in the dirt.

They clawed at it, pulled it up between them…

…it was Redwing.

Rhodey pulled the leaves aside and shined a light on the ground. The bushes were broken as if someone had fallen into them, but there was nothing there. Steve half-crawled toward them, and picked a leaf, pulling it into the full light.

He could barely see it, but he could feel it, the same fine softness of ash that'd been under his hands where Bucky had fallen. Rhodey touched more leaves, and his hand too came away gray.

Bucky's armor, even his arm had vanished with him, but his gun had fallen to the ground.

There was no sign of Sam's wings, his headset, or anything…just ash and Redwing, its jets half-extended as if it'd been launching and then suddenly lost its connection and plummeted into the dirt.

If Sam hadn't been able to fly, if he'd been conscious, he'd have looked for any weapon left to throw into the fray. If nothing else, maybe Redwing might have distracted Thanos for a few seconds. Sam was a fast thinker.

Sam…had been…a fast thinker?

Oh God…

Rhodey clutched Redwing in one hand and put his free arm around Steve. Steve felt him shaking even through the War Machine armor.

"Steve? Rhodey?" It was Nat. Thor and Bruce were with her. Steve and Rhodey looked up, and she made only the smallest flinch when she saw Redwing in their hands. She didn't say another word, just came up to them and put her hand on Redwing too. Her hand was amazingly steady, but light glinted off the trails that formed on her face. She leaned into Steve.

"I'm sorry," Thor whispered. "My friends, I'm so sorry."

Some flicker of awareness struck Steve then, and he looked up at Thor. His voice was as hoarse as if he'd been screaming for hours. "Br-Bruce…told us…about Asgard. Your brother. I…'m sorry, Thor."

Thor didn't flinch. He joined them and put a hand on Steve and Rhodey's shoulders. "I…thought I'd seen the greatest evil any being could commit on that ship." He looked miserably at Bruce. "But I was able to see. I was able to know what had happen. The Titan still went past what I believed to be the limit of all evil today."

Rhodey relinquished Redwing, and Steve pulled it to his chest, wrapping it tight in his arms like a pillow or a baby. It was several more minutes and several failed attempts before he could get back to his feet.

By some unspoken, mutual choice, they all went back to the clearing where it'd happened, where Vision's body still lay covered in his cloak. No stretcher bearers had made it here yet. Steve didn't want to just leave him.

Rhodey paused again as they passed Bucky's gun. "Hey." His voice broke too, raspy and dull. "You want it?"

Steve shook his head. Rhodey blinked, looking confused as he looked from the gun on the ground to Redwing, clutched so tight to Steve's chest. Yeah, maybe that was confusing, especially to Rhodey, the colonel, the life-long soldier.

So Steve explained in a murmur. "That's not Bucky. It never was. He…he never wanted to be a soldier. He never wanted to go to war. He went…he had no choice. He…" He stayed because of me. He fell because of me. Then he had no choice at all of what he became. "He was good at it, even before…Hydra. Great shot." He took good care of his guns. The Howlies used to tease him, the sniper in love with his guns, but we all knew better. We all took care of our equipment, but Bucky didn't love them, not like some of the guys. He didn't love any of it. He wanted to go home. "He'd never have chosen it, given the choice."

He looked up and saw in Rhodey's eyes that he understood.

Redwing was different. Sam had loved his wings and his tech, but he'd made Redwing. Redwing was his pride and joy. Redwing was Sam's, a part of him. During those brief months – how many had it been? Two years, barely? – between Sokovia and Lagos, Sam had used Redwing as often for pranks and party tricks as he had for mission practice.

Thor gently gathered Vision's body in his arms. Steve kept Redwing against his chest. They left the gun on the ground. "At least somebody'll get a decent burial," Rhodey murmured.

The battlefield was full of activity as they walked into the light. The Wakandans were still clearing the bodies of their fellows who'd died before Thanos had struck. Some were removing dead monsters and debris.

Most were still searching. Especially the civilians, they were scouring the ground for some sign of their loved ones. Now and then someone found something, usually a weapon with particular markings or calibrated in some special way, and fell to the ground to cry into the ash, wail at the heavens, or roar into the distance. Others didn't make a sound after they found what they were searching for.

How many more people would find nothing? How many more would keep searching and searching, holding onto that thread of hope that would grow thinner and thinner as the hours, days, weeks went by and never quite be able to cut it?

Had finding Redwing been a tiny fragment of mercy in a world where everything good had dissolved into ash and tears?

As they moved closer to the city, Steve spotted a vaguely-familiar face: a woman who'd often been at the palace with T'Challa. Steve had seen her on TV when T'Challa visited Vienna again. Some sort of assistant, she'd carried a tablet everywhere, taking notes on the king and his staff's orders. She'd spoken perfect English – and perfect Russian to Nat, and seemed to have a smile for everybody, even the foreign strangers in Wakanda's midst.

She wasn't smiling now. Her face was the same dull, empty, numb shock that everyone else displayed. Wakandans were gathered around her as she stood with her trusty tablet, speaking in low voices as rough and dull as Steve and his friends had when they managed to speak.

He couldn't seem to catch many words at all…then he realized it was because the Wakandans were giving her names.

It wasn't right that Steve had fought beside so many Wakandans, men and women with such spectacular courage and brilliance, and he knew barely a dozen of their names. He wondered if more than half a dozen of those whose names he'd known were alive now.

Steve just stood there until someone murmured, "Avengers," and she looked up.

"Avengers." Her voice only shook a little. "My king…is dead."

Steve's throat tightened suddenly with all the sobs that he should've been crying for hours, for T'Challa, for Bucky, for Sam, for Vision, for Wakanda, for all of them. He half-wished for the numbness to come back, because he should say something, make his deep condolences, his…apologies?

Is this our fault? Are we to blame?

Nat spoke up for them all. "We are so deeply sorry. King T'Challa was a truly great man, and he deserved better than what Thanos did today. Your entire nation deserved better."

Now the woman trembled. It wasn't right that Steve had never thought to ask her name. "It is…the whole world." Breaths caught around them, but Steve felt only a dull churning in his guts as she confirmed what he'd already suspected for hours. "People…disappeared. Wakanda is in chaos. Every city, every nation is in chaos. Lord M'Baku and Princess Shuri are…trying to learn… they ask for names, of any person who was seen…disappear."

Yes, that made sense. Steve was dully relieved to hear Shuri had made it. Well, maybe being alive was less of a good thing now, but wherever T'Challa had gone, Steve would like to think he'd be glad his little sister had lived.

Bruce spoke up in a trembling voice. "You want…there was just the Avengers around me."

She nodded. "Please tell me all their names. My princess wishes to know."

"Okay. Vision – he didn't disappear, he's…his body's…here. Wanda Maximoff, I saw her…go. Buck…" Steve flinched and felt someone's hands on his shoulders from both directions. "Bucky Barnes."

Someone said a phrase in Wakandan, the very first phrase Steve had learned after Bucky recovered: "Ingcuka."

White Wolf. It made Steve think of that little river village where Bucky had lived, full of curious kids and rather violent goats and locals who were surprisingly cheerful about the strange white man T'Challa brought there and the white visitor who came to see him. Bucky'd been happier than Steve had seen him since Brooklyn.

What'd happened to those kids and their families? Were they alive? Who had they lost?

"I'm sorry, Captain," said the woman, her voice snapping him back to the present. "Did White Wo- I mean, Sergeant Barnes, did he have any relatives who should be notified?"

Steve shook his head. Only one of his sisters had had a child, and the nephew had died before Steve ever came out of the ice. After D.C., Steve had pondered whether to be sorry or not that there was nobody else left who remembered Bucky Barnes and should be told what'd really happened to him. Not that it would've been safe. He hadn't even dared to tell Peggy. "No living relatives."

She nodded, making notes on her tablet, then looked curiously at Redwing in Steve's arms, and that brought a new rush of agony and memories. Steve's voice failed on the first try, but he managed to say it: "Sam Wilson."

"Falcon. American," Rhodey added. "He has family."

God. Sam's mother, his sister, her family, his nephew... if half the world's population was gone, were they even alive?

She dutifully wrote it down, then looked up. "Do you wish our ambassador in America to notify his family who are left?"

Steve didn't have to think about that. There was so much that needed thinking about, figuring out, but not that. So many priorities, but he'd just have to make time for this one. "No. I'll tell them myself."

~Fin~