"Thank you so much for agreeing to watch Peter," May said. "Ben and I haven't had a night out in so long and-"
"There's no need to thank me," Rebecca interjected gently. "Peter is always welcome here. I've told you that."
"Alright Peter," May said, crouching down to give her nephew a kiss on the forehead. "You be good for Mrs. Proctor, okay? I'll see you in a little while." Rebecca and Peter waved goodbye to her until she disappeared down the hall.
"So, your aunt tells me that you guys went to the Stark Expo recently," Rebecca said as she closed the door. She had heard about the Stark Expo, of course- it was the only thing most major news outlets would talk about, and was therefore inescapable.
"Yep!" Peter replied excitedly. "There were these big robots that went crazy and attacked people. One of them almost got me."
"Goodness!" Rebecca exclaimed, mostly for Peter's benefit, as she'd already heard about all of this from his aunt. "Were you scared?"
"Nope!" Peter replied. "I blasted it right in the face. Pow!" He mimicked firing a repulsor. Rebecca frowned. She wasn't sure how she felt about Tony Stark. He was a little too much like his father for her tastes, and not all in good ways. She wasn't sure if he was a good role model for Peter.
Rebecca noticed Peter eyeing her pendant curiously. A moment later, she felt a stab of pain in her heart. Apparently every so often the wound of her brother's death felt the need to remind her that it was still there. Instead of speaking, she gestured with the pendant, to which Peter nodded, eyes wide. The corners of Rebecca's mouth turning upwards in a sad smile, she went into her bedroom and retrieved the box of photographs and other mementos of the Howling Commandos days from under her bed. She didn't look at them much anymore, mostly because her arthritis made kneeling down to get the box difficult. Resting the box against her hip, she made her way back into her living room. She sat down on her couch, transferring the box to her lap as she did so.
"Here," she said, patting the couch beside her. "Sit." Peter sat, looking puzzled. Rebecca pulled a photograph out of the box and tilted it so Peter could see it.
"These are the Howling Commandos," she told him. "That's Jim, and there's Frenchie, and Dugan and Monty and Gabe." She pointed to each person in the photograph as she named them, skipping over Steve and Jimmy, in the middle, knowing that Peter will ask about them.
"And those two?" Peter asked, pointing.
"Those are my brothers," Rebecca replied. "Steve and Jimmy." Peter studied Steve's unifrom, squinting.
"Why's Steve dressed like that?" he finally asked. Rebecca considered how best to answer. She knew that Peter would most likely know Steve as Captain America, but she didn't like to talk about him in that context, because to her he wasn't Captain America, he was just Steve. She sighed.
"Let me put it this way," she said. "You probably know Steve better as Captain America." Peter's eyes widened. He stared at the photograph again, comprehension dawning on his face.
"Captain America was your brother?" he asked excitedly, his face the very picture of pleasant surprise.
"Well, not biologically," Rebecca replied with a chuckle, "but he was Jimmy's best friend, so he was around all the time, and eventually he just became a part of my family, especially once my parents took him in after his mom died. He was like a brother to Jimmy, and it wasn't long before I thought of him that way too."
"That must have been hard for you then," Peter said quietly, "when he crashed that plane." It was a surprisingly perceptive statement from one so young.
"It was," Rebecca agreed, nodding. "Jimmy died only about two weeks before that, so to lose Steve too, so soon after, was difficult for me and everyone who knew and loved them."
"When I learned about Captain America in school," Peter offered, "they only referred to your brother as his best friend. They never even told us his name."
"That doesn't surprise me," Rebecca said, "but I think Jimmy would have preferred it that way. He was never one for the spotlight, my brother. I think he would have rathered that people remember him as the person who was always by Steve's side, always there when he needed him, than anything else. He would have hated for anyone to call him a hero. If there's one thing he would regret, I think, is that people only remember Steve as a hero, never as a man. They remember Captain America, but they've forgotten Steve Rogers."
" I'll remember Steve Rogers," Peter said, shyly, his voice quiet.
"Well thank you Peter," Rebecca said. "That's very sweet of you."
"Do you have any stories about the Howling Commandos?" Peter asked.
"I have lots of stories about the Howling Commandos," Rebecca replied, forcing a cheerful tone into her voice. "Which ones would you like to hear?"
"All of them," Peter said, yawning and lying down with his cheek resting against Rebecca's leg. "I wanna know everything about them."
"Alright," Rebecca replied. She'd always been good at storytelling- growing up, her younger brothers had always preferred her bedtime stories to anyone else's, even their mother's- and it her voice soon settled into an easy rhythm that had Peter drifting off to sleep before too long. Rebecca smiled down at him and eased herself slowly off the couch, being careful not to jostle him. She tossed a blanket over him, then went to her room to put the box of mementos back in its place under her bed. Returning to the living room, she sat down in the armchair across from the couch where Peter slept and settled in to wait- for him to wake up or for his aunt to come to collect him, whichever came first.
He's a good kid , Rebecca thought. Jimmy would have liked him.
Some hours later, there was a knock on Rebecca's door. Peter lifted his head from the couch, blinking groggily. Rebecca got up slowly from her chair, her arthritic joints protesting loudly, and went to answer it.
"Hello May," she said. "Did you and Ben enjoy your night?"
"Yes, thank you," May replied. "How was Peter?"
"An absolute angel as always," Rebecca said. "You may want to put him to bed when you get him home- he fell asleep on my lap while I was telling him stories about the Howling Commandos. I suspect he's quite tired.
"No, I'm not tired," Peter protested, overhearing, but his statement was without conviction, and punctuated with a yawn that made it less than convincing.
"Peter, come over here and say goodbye to Mrs. Proctor," May told him. "It's time to go."
"Okay Aunt May," Peter said, sliding off the couch.
"Goodbye Mrs. Proctor," he said, hugging her around the waist. "Thank you for the stories about the Howling Commandos."
"You're welcome Peter," Rebecca said, patting him affectionately on the head. "You're welcome over here to hear them anytime you want." She exchanged her last goodbyes with him and his aunt and closed her door behind them, alone in her apartment once again.