I’m always Gwenning. (webangst) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2015-02-26 14:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | peter parker, steve rogers, zz:status complete |
Filling in the blanks (Steve Rogers/Peter Parker log)
Peter licked over his lips.
He watched the young woman behind the counter pull a fresh pizza pie from within the depths of a stone oven and set it down in front of him. The pie sizzled beneath the lamps that would keep it warm.
Pepperoni and cheese hit the young hero like a ton of bricks and Peter couldn't help himself.
"Excuse me, miss," Peter said, getting the girl's attention before she could step too far away. "Gimmie that one please. I'll take the whole thing."
The girl nodded, smiled and began to box the pizza up for him.
Satisfied, Peter moved to the counter and paid for the box of pizza. He had a job now, so the money in his wallet was no longer asked for as it had been the couple of times before. It made him feel better to be working for his dough instead of just taking it.
The proudly earned pizza then was sat in front of him.
"Thanks!" Peter grinned, picking up the box. He turned around and froze in his tracks.
No....it couldn't be. That face was so familiar and being native to New York it was hard to mistake.
--
Steve was going through his wallet, which he no longer wondered about, and checking how much cash was in it. He hadn't been living in the "present" long enough for this to feel like anything less than a fortune, though he knew that it was a pretty standard amount of money to be carrying. His bank account since working for SHIELD had seemed less and less real as time went on, and he had stopped seeing any real cost - the numbers were too large for him to consider them legitimate. Especially when countered by technology reports in the billions of dollars. That kind of currency was simply unthinkable to a man who had grown up during the Great Depression.
He was pulling out enough to pay for the pie he and Harleen had shared for lunch, and then some extra bills (since the pizza smelled good enough that he was hungry again), when he looked up, hearing the person in front of him get his meal. He expected to step up to the counter, but instead, the young man froze, eyes wide, jaw hung slightly askew.
Steve had seen that look before. It was almost familiar, gently soothing. At least he wasn't a complete stranger in this world.
"Hi," he said, giving the young man a warm smile. He didn't mind being recognized - it had been part of his life for a long time now. Moreso now that he was also associated with the Avengers.
--
That...that was Steve Rogers.
Begin fangirl in three...two...
Peter cleared his throat and shook his head to get himself into check. This was not the time and place to freak out. He had freaked out enough with Tony Stark the night before, and had geeked out enough for the both of them.
"I-I uh, yeah...I'm totally in your way..."
Peter took a moment before he turned to the side slowly. In a matter of seconds the webslinger had constructed a spider web, attached to the counter and the floor. He set the box he'd purchased snugly into it and then turned back to the girl at the counter.
"Whatever this guy gets, it's on me. He's a national Hero. An Avenger!"
That was a high honor to heros like Peter Parker. Peter turned to Cap and nodded, "It's the least I can do. From one hero to another, the pepperoni is exquisite." Peter, when standing next to Cap, was by no definition of the word a hero. He was small time. Very small time.
--
Steve blinked at the construction the kid produced, and was about to comment on it when the boy continued and made his announcement. The 'national hero' laughed a bit, running a hand through his hair with a bemused look. "That's not necessary, really. I just, uh... wanted to pay for a pie your delivery guy lost earlier. He was rude to someone, and... well, it's not important. Just the pie and a couple of extra slices."
His eyes kept flickering back to the... web. That was... different. He poked at it with one finger, feeling the adhesiveness when he withdrew, and grinned. "That's... that's pretty cool. How'd you do that?"
He slid the hand holding his cash toward the girl at the counter, hoping she would take his money and let him pay without the kid buying. It didn't feel right, someone trying to buy his food just because he was Captain America. That wasn't why Steve did what he did.
--
The girl looked at Peter, then down at the money that the other man was offering her. Peter grinned and nodded at her, "Go ahead. This guy is just humble. That's all. He deserves way more than he lets himself claim," Peter replied.
The girl nodded and accepted the cash she was being handed, putting it into the register. Then the girl turned and began preparing the slices to go.
Peter looked at the web, and then back at Steve, "I usually don't do that stuff in public, but around here I figure identity issues don't really matter too much. I'm Peter Parker, your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. At your service, Steve Rogers."
Wait until he told Tony about this!
"I don't think you've heard of me. I'm not as big as you guys, I'm the little guy that runs around cleaning up the mess on the street level. Street-hero is what Tony Stark called it, and I guess that's actually a pretty accurate way to put it. It's nice to meet you."
--
Steve sighed lightly, but acquiesced the payment with good grace. He stuck his cash back in his wallet, wallet back into his coat, and offered the young man his hand. "Nice to meet you, Peter Parker," he said. He tilted his head a bit at the title, the vigilante name he'd heard before. Steve wasn't based much in New York anymore, but he still read newspapers and visited when he could, and there was nothing wrong with his memory.
"Don't say that," he said, shaking his head. "I've read some of those stories about you. Never had the chance to meet you, of course, but that's some damn good work you're doing. New York needs someone like you." He looked to the girl at the counter himself. "This guy's a hero too, don't listen to him talk himself down."
He grinned back at Peter. "I'd buy you a slice, but looks like you already beat me to it."
--
Cap...cap had heard of him? Of him?! Peter was trying his hardest not to blush. Or faint. No fainting.
"Heh, thanks. I'll keep it up of we ever get back. In the meantime I'll hang out around here and try to maintain a low profile." It was hard to be discreet when he was seeing a girl that stood out in a crowd. But he would try.
And then his eyes slid to his pizza, and he nodded, "Beat you by eight slices, actually," he replied with a laugh. "Next time. We can take turns buying each other lunch. A lunch for heros or something corny like that. We could start a club or something for people like us that like pizza."
--
The faint reddening of cheeks was noted by the soldier, and he clapped a hand on Peter's shoulder with a laugh of his own. "I just put away half a pie myself," he said, "but I'll definitely get you next time." He nodded towards the tables. "Have a seat with me? I only just got here myself, and no one's been able to tell me much about the place. Just enough to know it's not like home."
Few places were, of course. New York City was special, to anyone who had ever lived there, or even visited.
Seemed strange that the kid was trying to 'maintain a low profile' by announcing himself as Spiderman, in public, but hey, Steve wasn't anyone to judge. It was far, far from the Tony Stark method of vigilantism, practically producing his own trade goods. Steve's product endorsements had sold war bonds and raised money for soldiers - nothing he would ever regret doing.
He'd liked what he'd heard about this Spiderman character, and was interested. The kid wasn't too old - Steve would place him just around twenty, give or take three years - and while Steve was technically 95 years old, he'd really only been about 25 himself when he'd been frozen. Most of his maturity had come from experience. No man could fight in a war without being changed by it, and World War II hadn't been just any war.
And Steve Rogers hadn't been just any soldier.
"If I'm not keeping you from anything, of course," he added, not wanting to interrupt if the young man had plans.
--
"And you're still hungry?!" Peter replied, his grin widening. Cap was a pretty big guy, in size and muscle. Peter could out lift Steve easily, but when it came to actual physical and stamina, Cap took the grand prize.
"Sure. The place by the window gives you the best view of the street," Peter offered, taking his pizza out of the webbing. Also, he cleaned up the web mess, balling the organic rope into a mass and carrying it with him.
"No, you're not. I'm off from work today." Peter settled into a seat, set the pizza box in front of him and waited.
When Steve had his slices from the girl at the counter and had taken up the seat across from him, Peter nodded, "So what do you need to know?"
--
Having a metabolism four times the normal rate made things like eating a necessity. Cap shrugged a bit. "Comes with the territory," he said. "Gotta feed the machine."
He settled comfortably into the seat, glanced out the window to get his bearings, and then gave Peter his attention. He could take his time eating, since he did have the earlier slices. This was just a way to top off the tank.
"Not sure, exactly," he admitted. "I just sort of... woke up here. In an apartment. A pretty well-decorated apartment, with a bunch of my stuff, a wallet with a driver's license, cash, and my motorcycle." He gestured with his chin at the bike sitting at the curb outside. "All the ID looks legit, but..." He scowled a bit, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "It just doesn't sit right with me. I don't know how I got here, but it's like there was an entire life already waiting for me?"
His voice softened, keeping the following conversation fairly private. "Last time I woke up like that, it turned out I'd slept through 70 years, and I was indebted to a system that I had nothing to do with. Turned out not to be so great."
He was grateful to SHIELD for the care they had provided, of course, but he was still a little bitter about how things had turned out. Learning that HYDRA had infiltrated the program from the get-go was intimidating, and could really cause some trust issues down the line. Steve didn't want to end up like Nick Fury, never trusting anyone or anything. But the way to avoid that, was to get information.
--
"No kidding. Powerhouse on, my friend." With that, Peter nodded and he opened the box of pizza he had purchased, digging in heartily.
"I had almost the same thing happen. Except I was in the jungle and then all of the sudden I crash landed a block down from here. I met an angel, Castiel...we shared a pizza."
Then Peter made a face, "I had the keys to my Aunt May's place in my pocket. Like it was here waiting for me. Sure enough. And a press pass and ID badge to The City Voice where I already had a job."
Peter shook his head, "I haven't seen any sign of impending doom, and you're not a Cap-cicle anymore. We are all here together in the same time. Maybe it's not a bad idea for us to start forming a team of some kind. You know, like the Avengers but not. Cause as much as I love the Hulk....you know...I haven't found anyone to match him. Who else do we know that's here who would be willing to help?"
--
An angel? That made Steve pause, mid-bite. He'd met Thor and Loki, who were supposedly gods, but had remained devoutly Christian. Now hearing about an angel? That was... different. "An actual angel? Who liked pizza?"
Definitely an interesting place.
"I haven't found anything like a job yet. I'm not sure what I'd do, honestly. I've been a soldier most of my life." He rubbed at his forehead for a moment. "Maybe something with drawing. Did some cartoons for a while. I'm a pretty good artist." He chuckled. "Only the only thing I was any good at, back when I was a kid."
He took another bite of his pizza, mulling over the idea of a team. Steve was partial to teams. He liked working with others. That's what made soldiers - teammates, companions. People were stronger as a group. He knew he was also a solid leader - there had been plenty of experience to go with that, plus his tactical intellect and military knowledge was hard to compete with. He smiled sadly at the mention of Bruce. "Dr. Banner is a great man. I don't know anyone that could match him or the Hulk. But I don't really know who else might be appropriate." He glanced back at Peter with a shrug. "So far, I know you, and a psychiatrist working at a place called Arkham. And I don't think she's exactly the type we'd need on a team like this."
--
Peter nodded.
"Yeah. He said his name was Castiel and I bought him and I a pizza to share because he couldn't afford one of his own."
Then he pretended to flex his arms at Steve when the former soldier mentioned not knowing anyone that could compare to Hulk. "What I lack in size, rage, green and muscle mass I make up for in about everything else. But don't take my word for it. You would have to judge my skill for yourself."
And then the Spider thought, "Well, we know Tony Stark. And Megan, my girlfriend, she's an X-Man. And there's Logan, he's an X-Man too....Peter Petrelli..." He was trying to think of all the people he knew from the island.
--
Steve blinked. The kid had mentioned Tony Stark a moment ago, but he hadn't realized that Tony was here. New York was a nebulous enough place to consider that Peter might have run into the billionaire playboy there. "Wait a second - Tony's here too?"
And then the other names that were being rattled off. Steve recognized a few of those as well. He hadn't realized... "You were on the TARDIS," he concluded. "I didn't realize that. I'm sorry. I didn't get to know a whole lot of the others staying there, unfortunately. But, yeah, I did meet Petrelli. He seemed like a good guy. Are you sure they all made it here, too?"
--
Peter was mostly babbling thoughtfully at Steve but it wasn't until the recognition hit the solider that Peter nodded, "Oh yeah! We were fixing machines all night the evening before last in his tower..." It wasn't a huge deal...well, that was a lie. Peter adored the fellow scientist and inventor.
He had squealed at least once.
Peter shrugged, "It's hard to say if everyone made it. I'm not exactly sure. This place is huge and the buildings keep moving. But there has to be a way to see if everyone is here or at least a way to see who made it."
Like a phone book?
--
Steve had the same idea. "Maybe a phone book?" He glanced to the counter and got up from his seat, making his way over and quietly asking the girl there if he could borrow the shop's phone directory. A moment later, he returned to the table, the thin volume in hand. He set it down between them and picked up his second slice of pizza, turning the pages to see how current the information was.
"Well," he said, chuckling. "It must work the same as everything else here. My name is already here, and I only arrived this morning." He turned the book for Peter to take over looking, since the young man was the one with the names. From his jacket pocket, Steve withdrew a small notebook and a pen to start making a list.
Tony Stark, huh? He'd have to at least give his fellow Avenger a call. He and Tony didn't always see eye to eye, but they could work together. New York had proven that. And Steve had built up a grudging respect for the man after seeing the Iron Man suit disappear into the wormhole. Enough to be ashamed of his accusation that Tony wasn't the type to make the sacrifice play. When the chips had been down, that's exactly what the man had done.
Yeah, Tony would be a good teammate. As would Petrelli. Steve jotted down the other names Peter had mentioned - Logan, Megan - and then glanced at the book. "See if Banner is here? He was on the TARDIS for a while, too."
--
"Great minds think alike, Cap!" He was thrilled that Steve was on the same wavelength as he was. It made their already blooming friendship that much better.
Then Peter looked over the book as it came to him, scrolling through the names.
"Banner....Banner..." Peter frowned. "No Banner. But there is a Barnes...." Peter tilted his head, "Yeah a Barnes, James. But no Banner, Bruce."
Shrugging, Peter shoved a bite of pizza into his mouth and studied the rest of the names.
--
There was a soft thump and a delicate clatter as the pizza slice and pen simultaneously slid from Steve's suddenly limp grasp. His breathing froze - hell, did his heart stop?
He stared at Peter, imploringly, confused and then wild as to why the boy was just sitting there. Just sitting there, not answering his demands, casually eating as though the world was still turning. His chest began to burn, and Cap realized he'd stopped breathing. Oh. Wait. He hadn't asked anything, had he?
"Barnes?" he stammered, the name coming out in a rush of air. "Did... did you say James Barnes?" He'd been wrong - the world was turning. Spinning, actually. Steve planted his hands firmly on the table to keep from falling over as it spun around him.
--
Peter paused mid-chew when the clatter of pen and pizza slice nestled into his ears. He blinked, finished eating the food in his mouth and tilted his head at Steve.
"Uh yeah. See for yourself. Why?"
Peter placed a finger on the name in the book, and turned it around for Cap to see. With those sharp eyes, Peter doubted the man would miss it.
And then his head began to feel like fire ants had taken over his brain. Peter winced and set a hand on the side of his head for a moment, "Agh. My Spider sense is tingling. That isn't good."
He didn't know why, or where exactly. It may not have been anything complex. Even a person with bad intentions walking nearby could trigger it. Danger came in many forms.
The pulse didn't last long though. And Peter sighed. "That was the strangest thing..."
--
Steve stared at the page. There, in black and white, just under where Peter's finger was pressed into the paper.
Barnes, James B. There was a phone number and an address listed. An apartment only a few doors down from Steve's own.
Oh, there it was. His heart was beating. In fact, it was pounding so hard against his chest that it was just about drowning out everything else. The room continued to tilt this way and that, and Steve no longer knew which way was up.
"Bucky," he said, the name falling from his lips with all the solemnity of a prayer. "Oh, God. It's... that's Bucky."
--
"Who's Bucky? He any good at fighting?" Clearly Peter had never heard of the Winter Solider. He had been to the Smithsonian, and had seen the display of tribute to the fallen friend of Steve, but didn't recall that the name and memorial were one and the same.
"Maybe we could add him to the list? And a few others from the jungle if you want. I think we could rally up a few more if we really tried. We could split the list and talk to them individually..."
Peter was babbling on again, unaware of his new friend's response to the realization of the name.
--
Peter's words were buzzing incoherently. Steve was still staring at the name on the page, but his vision was otherwise occupied, seeing a white mountain range whizzing past, his arms reaching out to the man clinging to the side of the broken train car. The man who tried to reach back, only to be ripped away by the wind, and dragged into the white abyss by gravity, screaming all the while.
Ice-blue eyes, killer's eyes, locked on him on the bridge of the helicarrier. "You're my mission."
Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky.
Too much noise. The echoes of battle in his head, the incoherent talk from across the table. Steve put up a hand, willing it all to stop. His eyes shut in defense against the images.
"James Buchanan Barnes was... is my best friend," he said, his voice breaking. "I..." He fought to breathe, opening his eyes and looking at the young man across the table. "I have to find him."
--
Finally it began to sink in. Peter stopped talking and closed his mouth, eyes watching Steve carefully as the man went through one emotion after another in the span of seconds.
Steve looked a bit pale, but Peter offered his friend an award-winning smile and nodded, "You should go get him then, tiger. Don't let him get too far before you track him down."
"We can catch up later."
--
Go get him.
Right. That was the thing to do. The only thing to do.
Steve nodded. "Thank you," he said, hands gripping the table as he got to his feet. He swayed once, fought against it, and steadied. Then he rushed out the door and to his bike. The apartment number was burning in his mind.
I'm coming, Bucky.