Fenway Park, an hour or two into the fighting—Peggy/Captain America
[Just outside Fenway Park, with the stadium rising up in the background, gargantuan and shadowless, as it might on 16mm film, grainy and highlighted, its high-wattage lights buzzing in the sun, Captain America stands alone near an entrance. By now, the red, white, and blue of his suit is torn, frayed, and scratched with dirt, blood, and sweat. Blond hair lies limp against his forehead and a weak stream of blood strings from his bottom lip.
He holds his shield aloft, the muzzle of his nicked gun protruding from underneath the curve of the thing, blasting successive shots at the onslaught of aliens.—The stadium, with its thousands of refuges and aid workers, sound roaring from inside, a home game in play, is the perfect place to attack. Aside from all the enforcement, of course. SHIELD is on the ground, the National Guard, everyone stationed and fending off the Marauders.
Overhand and from the shoulder, Steve looses his shield to pinball between two attackers, skull to skull and then back to him. But more come, and in no time, there are more than a dozen of the ugly things piling atop the man in the spangled suit.]