Steve stood at the edge of the ruined compound, shield still strapped to his arm, his knuckles white around the edge. His chest heaved. His eyes were scanning, searching, desperate.

Beside him, Bucky swayed on his feet. Blood streaked his temple, but he didn't seem to notice. He was looking at the same spot. The same empty patch of scorched earth.

Not the snap. Not the gauntlet. But something softer, gold and warm, pouring from the sky like dawn breaking through storm clouds. The air trembled. And then they started coming back.