“People’s lives matter,” Steve responded. He was the guy that believed in the good of all, not the good of some. Or even the good of most. That had always been a sticking point between himself and those above him in the chain of command.

It was why he never played real well with others. Not even the people that called him their leader. Those days were likely really far behind him now.

Just as well.

Steve stood in the home of the people Bucky was stealing from, looking at photographs on the wall. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen them, these modern day photos. So realistic, like you could reach out and touch someone. He frowned at how happy these people looked and then followed Bucky back to the car.

It wouldn’t be long now before they hit civilization again, he was told. They were almost out of the wastes of Canada. There had been a bomb dropped here decades ago. It was safe enough, but no one had moved back. Perhaps understandable. It all just made Steve sad. And quiet.