Needless to say, the proposal did not go over well. No threats were explicitly exchanged, but Pietro knew the UN delegates weren't happy. Then again, he didn't really care. Technically, he wasn't even a US citizen. "Take a couple of weeks to sleep on it." the man who had explained the Accords said to them with a shiny smile. "I sincerely hope you'll come to your senses." They were shown out without any pomp or circumstance and left to their own devices.
"Well, that went well." Rhodey muttered. "I think we just pissed off the entire UN."
"It'll blow over soon enough." Steve replied tiredly. "Until then, I suggest we keep a low profile." They'd decided to regroup outside the Air and Space Museum, which had just opened for the day. "So, let's decide how we're going to spend our last day here."
"Air and Space." Sam and Rhodey said almost simultaneously, high fiving each other at the back of the group.
"I thought the American History Museum sounded very interesting and educational." Vision replied.
"I'm just not going to offer an opinion." Natasha said.
"I would like to see the National Gallery myself." Wanda added.
Pietro felt torn. On the one hand he really wanted to see the Air and Space Museum…but on the other hand he also wanted to spend plenty of time with his sister. Of course, there were also times he had to think about himself. "I vote for Air and Space." He went to join Sam and Rhodey.
"Okay-I think we've made this easy for ourselves." Steve said once everyone else had found a group. "Rhodey, Sam, and Pietro will head to the Air and Space Museum. I've been to the American History museum more than enough times so Nat can take Vision there. Wanda and I will go to the National Gallery. I've made reservations at a restaurant for 7:30; we'll meet there." Everyone seemed satisfied by these arrangements so off they went.
"You're going to love the Air and Space." Rhodey said as they got in line to join all of the tourists and school groups filing into the museum's front doors. "It has all kinds of cool airplanes." He was still chattering nonstop once they got inside…and Pietro's jaw dropped nearly to the floor. Wherever he looked there was something to see-airplanes decades old hung from the ceiling in brought colors and loud beeps, whistles, and roars of motors gave the place an atmosphere of excitement.
Suddenly, an exhibit tucked in one corner of the room caught his eye-right next to a showcase of American planes of WWII. Inside Captain America, the title proclaimed in broad lettering. The True Story of America's First Super Soldier and Homeland Hero. Now in its last week! "What's that?"
Sam followed his line of sight and immediately made a beeline for the exhibit in question. "Oh yeah-Steve's exhibit. Come on-let's check it out." Before Pietro could stop him he was already halfway across the floor. He and Rhodey really had no other choice but to follow.
You're in Brooklyn, New York, in the year 1942. The United States has recently entered World War II. Morale is high but more soldiers are needed to go to Europe and the Pacific and fight the good fight. To inspire the American populace the government approves production of a serum designed to make even the unlikeliest of men into a trained and capable soldier of the Allied forces. Enter Steven Rogers: small for his age, underweight, and ill with numerous health problems. Even so, he's already applied for the army and several separate bases-and has been turned down every time. Even so he isn't willing to give up and willingly submits himself to be the world's first recipient of the super soldier serum.
They wound their way through the exhibit carefully, passing pictures of old training facilities and all kinds of photos of Steve-Steve with the Howling Commandos, in his old uniform, and with a brown haired woman Pietro could only assume was Peggy Carter. Old propaganda posters stared out at him, proclaiming in bold letters Captain America wants YOU to join the US army.
Rhodey pulled them into another alcove where a movie was playing on loop. A soldier had been interviewed; in small print under his name it read that he had been a soldier liberated during one of Captain America's raids on a German base. "He was an inspiration to us all. You felt better…safer, even…when he was around. He really was a symbol-to all of us-of not only just what it meant to be a soldier and a comrade in arms but also an American in general. I owe my life and freedom to Captain America and I know I'm not the only one."
Pietro couldn't help remembering a day in Seoul, Korea, when Captain America had given him the benefit of the doubt. He could have had them arrested and shipped to the US in chains-but he hadn't. He'd given them an opportunity not just to shape up but to be heroes. He supposed they weren't really so different; the three of them had been experimented on in an attempt to protect their country (at least, that was what he'd thought he'd been signing up for). The difference was that Captain America had become not only a symbol but a hero; he and Wanda would never so much as be mentioned in a history book. Not as heroes of Sokovia, anyway. As Avengers…that was a different story. All because of Steve.
The next part of the exhibit focused on a different person in the Captain's life-James Buchanan Barnes, also known as Bucky. Best friends since childhood. Sam sighed as they looked at a picture of a young Steve and Bucky playing stickball in the Brooklyn streets circa 1930. "I still can't believe I lost the trail."
"Don't worry." Rhodey said reassuringly. "We'll find him again. He can't stay hidden forever."
"What are you talking about?" Pietro asked, sure he was missing something.
The two older Avengers exchanged a look. "Never mind." Sam said after a while. Pietro nodded because he felt it was best not to pry-not because he particularly liked being left out of whatever the big secret was.
The whole exhibit was at odds with everything he'd learned as a child about World War II, where Captain America had been a symbol that led men to throw their lives away by the thousands. But now, with everything he'd learned about not only Steve but also what it really meant to be a superhero he was beginning to realize that those deaths had been anything but meaningless.
He left the exhibit feeling almost enlightened-and realizing just how much Steve had kept hidden from the team. But…maybe that was alright. Maybe Steve had never really been the bad guy after all.
It seemed Rhodey and Sam felt the same way; they stood in silence for a few minutes once they finished looking around as though paying tribute to all of the Captain's fallen comrades. Rhodey was the first to shake himself out of it and say "Let's go see some airplanes!"
So, with nothing better to do, everyone agreed.
~V102~
"It's beautiful." Little pink and white water lilies floated across the crystal clear surface of a lake while a blue wooden bridge arched overhead. The painting looked so real; Wanda could almost imagine reaching out to touch it and getting her fingers wet instead.
"Water Lilies." Steve said, reading off the plaque to the right of the painting. "Monet. I know what you mean."
She admired the way the brush strokes had been used to indicate depth and movement on a still canvas; she would give almost anything to have the skills to paint something even half as beautiful. "I love Impressionist works. There was an exhibition of their work in Moscow when I was nine; my parents spent all of their Christmas bonuses just so we could go. I wasn't really an artist then but my mother was. She said we would always regret it if we didn't go. And when we saw all of those beautiful paintings…I realized how right she really was."
"Are you a painter?"
Wanda shook her head. "Paints and brushes were too expensive. I draw, mostly. Sketchbooks are cheap. But…that exhibition is what got me into art. I thought that if people could make things that beautiful-things that people would pay good money just to come and see-there was no reason why I couldn't try too." She realized how close she was getting toward talking about things she'd never talked about with anyone else and moved on to the next room, full of Renoirs, to provide a distraction.
Steve nodded. "I've never been creatively inclined myself, but it's always nice to dream."
"You can't be that bad."
He laughed. "You'd be surprised. You wouldn't be saying that if you'd seen some of the self-portraits I drew in high school."
"Now I actually want to see them. Do you still have those pictures?"
"…Maybe."
"Will you show me?"
He gave her an almost teasing smile. "It depends. Will you show me one of your drawings? We can compare ideas."
"Mine are really nothing special."
"I'm sure they're better than mine."
She was quiet for a moment, thinking about that proposition. She wasn't excited to show him her drawings-they weren't masterpieces by any stretch of the word-but she was interested in seeing Steve's terrible self-portraits. "Maybe. We'll see. Do you think the UN is going to follow up on their threats?"
"I don't know-but I assume things are about to get much worse for us." Then again, that was nothing new. They continued on to the next room, which seemed to specialize in modern art.
"You didn't have to come with me, you know. I could just as easily have come myself."
"It was no trouble. I've never actually been to the National Gallery myself before; it's a new experience for both of us. Besides, I think Sam, Rhodey, and Pietro need a bonding day; it seems they'll get along very well." Wanda certainly hoped so. It had been too long since he'd had a real friend. It gave her more pleasure than it should have to be able to say that; by bits and turns, she'd remembered more and more until she had an almost complete picture of her life-but there were still blank spots. She could not, for example, remember anything about the Battle of Sokovia or where she'd been for the last year. That was the worst of all-with every day that went by she was more and more certain that it had something to do with the cartel. There was something strange about it all but she couldn't quite lay a finger on it.
"Yes, I think they do." They continued on, passing Renoirs, Monets, Manets, and Van Goghs-pieces of artwork that Wanda had only ever seen among the pages of books. By the time they were finished the sky had just barely started to turn pink, as if the sun was just beginning to contemplate whether or not to set for the night. No one else was finished yet and Steve didn't want to leave for their reservations too early.
"We still have almost an hour." he said, checking his iPhone. "Do you want to walk on the Mall for a while?"
"Sure." she replied, for lack of anything better to do.
They started at the Washington Monument and walked along the Reflecting Pool, passing monuments dedicated to the Korean War, the Vietnam War, and World War II. Steve was extremely quiet when they arrived at the latter, for good reason. "They call it the Greatest Generation for a reason." she added. She was Jewish on her father's side; she'd grown up hearing about how her grandparents had been persecuted by the Nazis and spent two years in a forced labor camp. If the Allies hadn't won the war, there was a very good chance she wouldn't be alive.
"It was a very different time-but I can't say the modern world isn't better in some ways. The quality of life is light years above what it once was."
"In some parts of the world yes-but in other parts it feels like we're still stuck in the Stone Age." Sokovia hadn't been terribly technologically advanced; her parents had bought an iPad for the family back when money hadn't been so scarce and it had lasted up until the shelling. "I still find it hard to believe that in some parts of the world people have more than they could possibly want and half a world away people have next to nothing."
"We're working on it. We're trying to change, really."
She nodded-but change felt like it was very slow in coming. Almost dangerously so. "Are we still Avengers?"
He shrugged almost helplessly, looking across the water at the white dome of the Jefferson Memorial glittering in the low dusk light. "Until they tell us that we aren't. I wish I knew for sure what will happen next, but I do know that we're going to keep doing what we've always done-saving people and protecting the world from danger-no matter what the United Nations says." It was a dangerous prospect in this day and time, but the intent still rang true.
~V102~
Dinner that night with Tony Stark almost felt hostile. While no anger was openly displayed, Pietro didn't need telepathic powers to sense the resentment growing just underneath the surface. "How as your day?" Tony asked, ordering a bottle of white wine at tableside. "Do a lot of sightseeing?" His usually genial manner seemed more than a little forced.
"Some." Steve replied coolly. "We're heading back to the base later tonight."
"I wouldn't get too comfy."
"Is that supposed to be some kind of a threat?"
"Of course not. I'm just saying that you've made a few very powerful enemies."
"Is that a surprise?"
Pietro was too busy examining the tiny little model spacecraft Rhodey had bought for him at the museum's gift shop (quite against his will) to pay much attention. It was modelled after the Apollo 13, with little doors that opened and shut and a little button you could press that would make the whole thing light up and make strange noises. He'd told Rhodey half a dozen time he didn't need it but his new friend had insisted-because apparently one didn't go to the Smithsonian and not come back without some kind of souvenir.
Rhodey sighed. "I don't know, Steve. It might be nice to have government protection. If something like Sokovia ever happened again, we won't have so much bad press. It could be helpful." Tony high fived him and gave Steve an almost triumphant look.
"It would simply cause more problems than it would fix. For now all they want is to control the team-but what if they started getting other ideas and decided we could offer them more? Pietro and I are Enhanced-what if the UN wanted to find out exactly what made us that way?" She shivered and Pietro rested a hand on her knee reassuringly underneath the table. Steve nodded once as if in silent thanks.
All Pietro could think was that shots had most certainly been fired.
They finished the meal in a very awkward silence. Pietro couldn't stop thinking about what Wanda had suggested. Though he knew it was purely hypothetical and would almost certainly stay that way…he still had nightmares about being in a cell separated from his sister. He couldn't let that happen. If that meant being on Steve's 'team', that's what he would do.
~V102~
They flew out late that night. Even with the lingering hostility that hadn't quite gone away. Tony and a couple members of his entourage came to see them off, but Pietro suspected that was just formality.
"I don't like this." Sam muttered, watching as Tony grew smaller and smaller out the window of the plane.
Pietro nodded. "Neither do I." He knew something big was coming-but he didn't know what it was. He just knew he had to figure it out soon, before it was too late.
Sorry for any inaccuracies in the Captain America story-it's been a really long time since I've seen The First Avenger.
Review, follow, and favorite! Thanks for reading!