Saving Spider-Man // A Fanfiction

Chapter Six: 1943

Peter and Steve walked down the street together, taking in the city. Peter was shocked by it all. Going back in time was no light matter, and he knew this because he had already stopped to throw up--twice.

"Hey, kid, do you want to do anything special before we get you back to your time?"

"I thought you didn't know what to do next."

"I don't, that's why I'm procrastinating."

"I don't know. What do you suggest?"

"Oh, I don't know. What don't you have in, uh, 2017?"

"Well, let me see. We don't have newsreels or ice cream parlors."

"Alright, you wanna see a newsreel, kid?"

"Uh, sure."

Ten minutes later the odd pair were making themselves comfortable in a dark theater that was packed with people. Someone behind Peter was smoking and he was having a coughing fit right as the reel began.

"Shut it, kid!" Someone yelled from the crowd.

"Shut it yourself!" Steve yelled back. Even though he clearly wasn't able to defend himself physically, Peter could tell that Steve could hold his own verbally.

The smoking man behind Peter put out his cigarette and the newsreel continued on in relative silence. Peter had never realized how absolutely terrifying it must be to live in a world at war, where the next news coming in might be that your friend or brother or father was dead. It made him appreciate his relationships all the more.

He vowed right then and there that when he got back to the year 2017 he would build a Lego set or ten with Ned, that he would apologize to Aunt May, keep up with Mr. Stark, and maybe, just maybe, even tell MJ that he liked her. But the last one seemed like more of a pipe dream.

When the newsreel finished, Steve and Peter headed outside. "So what did you think?"

"Depressing, Mr. Rogers."

"Eh, don't call me that. There's a mean guy in my neighborhood that everyone calls 'Mr. Rogers'. Call me Steve."

"Ok, Steve. Can we eat? I'm starving."

"Yeah, there's a diner not too far from here."

At the diner, Steve ordered a shake and burger for each of them. "So, uh, Steve, what do you do?"

Steve sighed. "It's not what I do, It's what I want to do. I want to join the military. I want to fight for my country. They won't let me though."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm too short or weak or asthmatic. It's always one of those."

Just as he said this, a car sped by the diner and rained bullets on the exterior. Many of the inhabitants of the diner screamed. Peter pushed Steve to the ground out of the line of fire and ran on to help the other people. One by one, each person was quickly dragged to safety.

It had seemed like a matter of minutes when in reality it had only been roughly fifteen seconds. The only person he hadn't managed to push out of the way was a dark-haired woman who actually had taken out a gun and fired back at the attackers.

When all was said and done, the woman stared at Peter. And Peter stared right back. "Who are you?" She spoke with a British accent.

"Peter. Peter Parker."

"I need you to come with me, Mr. Parker."

"Who are you?"

"I'm agent Peggy Carter and you're exactly who I've been looking for."

Peter, Steve, and the agent were all in the car just moments later. "You said you've been looking for me?"

She shook her head. "No. I originally was to peruse the general population for brave and good people, but I think that I've not only found brave and good but also strong. The United States government is looking to create a super-soldier. I can't wait to waltz in there and tell them I have one already."

Peter gulped. What had he gotten himself into?

Steve sunk sullenly back into his seat. Peter didn't notice.